Lucien just grunted, and curled up in a ball again. If he didn't know better, he'd have said his mother had been there from the certain feeling he got from the room, but he knew that it was simply his shadows. His mother had been such a calm, patient person for a reason. The shadows were easily upset. If he got angry, so did they. Almost like flames. But flames were easier to handle, easy to figure out what their next move was even if they did get out of control. But with shadows, it was deadlier than playing with fire. So the statement humans used, 'Playing with fire,' As a dangerous warning to get hurt, shadows were even worse.<br/><br/>He could feel them crawling onto the bed, taking a more stable form just from being around him. It was strange, the way shadows acted, even more so like they were alive, that they could think on their own without a second thought or a need to be controlled, not even needing to be told what to do. And the shadows were cold, they always brought about chilly air and breezes, unlike fire, which people would've perhaps seen as weird, with the two mixing. But for Lucien, it was a normal thing.<br/><br/>Lucien watched, easily seeing in the darkness of the room the small, black form of shadow that had formed itself as another small dragon, just like the fire had. It curled around his wrist and hand as if to comfort him, hissing small words in a barely audible tone, tough to him he found them soothing, and closed his eyes again, letting himself go silent completely.