The last time he ever dreamed, much less trapped himself in his own nightmare felt like eons ago -- which wasn't that far from the truth. Centuries, eons, eternities, it all was the same to him. Years without sleep had severed all ties with any sort of dream state. But he knew other beings had dreams, he saw it in their limbs as they twitched in their sleep and their eyes as they fluttered beneath their eyelids. Not that he watched people as they slept, but he did. What else was he to do with twelve hours of night?

      Nayru didn't wake up to a looming spirit staring down at her this time. Yet the unkempt feline lingered not too far away, busy exhuming worms and grubs, and trapping them within recycled containers ranging from tuna cans to discarded cups. Most passerby never questioned their commander's childish methods, their concerns either ignored, refuted with a defensive "leader business", or simply answered with a deranged glare. Scooping up his most recent find -- an iridescent pillbug -- Beck coddled the isopod for a moment, entranced by it scuttling across his branded paw pad with ticklish legs. Flipping his paw over as the pillbug crawled to the edge of his palm so it wouldn't fall and escape, Beck studied it blaze trails through the mud and soil caking his fur. A notched ear swiveled to the direction of where a nearby creature left her overgrown home in a royal flurry, eager for the boy to stalk over and investigate. Distracted instincts were far more focused on the roly-poly at first, inky nose tetchily sniffing at its glossy, armadillo-like shell instead. It was only when the regal forms of their resident "gods" approached to confront Nayru did he tilt his head up to watch.

      Lifting his muddied paw to ease the isopod onto one of his bony shoulders, Beck stumbled to his feet, not bothering to brush away the grime collected on his underbelly, darkening his front, or smudging his freckled cheeks. He quite easily slipped under Fenrisulfr's legs to get a better view, mindful of his pillbug passenger as he squirmed past the taller hellion. Blurred eyes failed to make out the finer wrinkles portraying a frown on the princess' features, but her uneasy posture was enough to give him a clue. Still, just to be sure, the poltergeist crept closer until he was nearly under her chin, blinking owlishly up at her before croaking out, "Why the sad face?" He didn't remember what was so bad about dreams, they were just weird hallucinations, right? Maybe she had a visit from that one villain he could recall watching on a screen -- although he doubted Nayru would have caught the attention of that sweater-wearing freak. Once more raising a scarred paw up to his shoulder blade to capture the scrabbling isopod, he offered his discovery up to her wordlessly, swiping a pallid tongue over his teeth in an effort to stop any vibrant chemicals from leaking out of his disfigured maw.