Brave to speak at all. Words they aren't certain they care for, even, though unlikely this bug truly knows that. This one looks nothing like a Godseeker.

The Lord of Shades fluidly curls around the edge, as though the facsimile of a body-shape is truly lain across the Void rather than the peak of their whole.

Looks nothing like a Godseeker. Sounds nothing like a Godseeker, in reverence or voice. The Abyss can't deaden how he sounds like someone who fell asleep shortly after consuming pieces of glass.

A trap, they consider again, of bug rather than binding. One clearly expecting attack first.

--Parts of them nearly preen at the threat they are and seem, if only for the novelty. The small Knight was rarely seen as such.

And the small Knight was, at times, impulsive. A trap to spring, and wounds the tangled netting of wood may cover to study; they pause only to hold a pointing claw steady, and snap the bindings from neck to chest in a single lash.

The shell beneath it is red. Not an internal light from the eyes, but catching just enough shine from the exit to be similarly noticeable.