He gently put the changeling down on the ground in a heap of unconscious, vaguely creepy pain. The light was weird down here. There was no sunlight, and all artificial light was usually indoors, much to his relief. There was nothing but the bioluminescence of the multihued plant life that covered the ceiling like starlight, and the strange, shifting, colourful light that pulsed within the chitinous walls that covered everything. In the back streets here where all was darkness, what little light there was pooled from the distant streets where the changeling public roamed and milled. The strange soft hues cast shifting, flitting shadows everywhere where they were brightest. Here though? Here they were barely enough to cast a shine on the weird analogous skin these changelings had, differentiating them from the overwhelming blackness.