The first time he'd met her, she'd been a shy flier, focusing on keeping straight and level in the air. Moth had been like he always was, spinning and tumbling and playing, but she'd not joined in - later he had realized it was because she was in the air as he was on the ground; uncertain. She had learned, though, and while a lack of knowing had kept her from doing barrel rolls, it had never seemed to cripple her mind. True, Moth was about as thick as a stone slab when it came to "seeing" the emotions of others, but he'd not perceived her as afraid, just... hesitant. Not so well trained. Not wanting to fall from the sky and land on something hard and become a splattered mess of blood and flesh. When it came to the latter, Moth certainly approved, but the reason his mind dredged up these old facts was that he'd never seen her scared like this before. He stubbornly believed that her lack of aerial grace had been due to lack of proper training, and not cowardice; he wasn't sure if he could call this cowardice either, but she smelled of fear and her body was nearly trembling beside him. To each thing he said or did, to the faint sigh of the cool wind, she seemed to flinch or jump or.. something had clearly spooked her, and when his question just sent her jumping into him and pressing her muzzle against his neck he guessed that being in a cave with a stallion is inappropriate was off the list of things that bothered her.

He sort of wished it had been that, though - it would've been so much easier to deal with than a mental cave troll. The other options weren't all that pleasant either, and things he probably had even less control of. She probably hadn't chosen to get all spooked, and because he had already pegged her as not being of the cowardly type, he had a hard time imagining that she was afraid. So was she? And if so, by what? Anxiety radiated off her and it didn't do much to slow the pounding of his own heart, yet he didn't dare move. Moth stood frozen, torn between the desire to comfort her (which he'd just fail at) and to not startle her by moving. That, and her warm breath on his neck, kept him locked in place, listening to the drowned-out sound of water dripping on rocks. Moist air rolled into his lungs, his breath light and shallow there in the dark; he wanted to draw deep breaths but feared they'd shudder, feared that the heaving of his sides would push his feathers against her side in a disconcerting fashion, reminding her of whatever it was that made her so skittish...

She pulled back a little, and one tan ear flickered towards her. He didn't really dare move yet, but she seemed to have collected herself enough to speak. "I don't like the dark. So much can lurk in the shadows." That.. was it? She was afraid of the dark? Of this pleasantly cool, unpleasantly wet cave? In truth, it was better than a thousand of the other reasons his spinning mind had come up with, and as he frowned his heart began to slow in his chest. Moth drew a couple of deep breaths in through his nostrils, but found only a few scents: the pair of them, stale rock, moisture. Nothing untoward. "Hey," he spoke quietly, softly, in the darkness; his nearest wing unfurled towards the dripping cave roof before spreading out to settle across her back. He hoped it wouldn't startle her. "Nothing to forgive." He grinned; too bad she couldn't see, but it was a reflex and one he wasn't about to start curbing just because no one was there to see. "I think it's only me lurking in here."

But, uhm... He didn't want her in here if she was going to be on edge, skittish and afraid - the reason he'd gone in here was to be able to rest out of the abominable heat, yet in the vicinity of the spring. He knew that he ought to sleep a little, drink some more, find a bite of grass to eat, and then get on his way to wherever Onni lived now. But, apparently, sleeping in a cave was out of the question, and he wasn't sure he could or should push himself all the way to her home already. His delirious sleep on the mountainside could hardly have been called restful, so it didn't count. Underneath his thick forelock, Moth's 'brows drew together in a slight frown. "We could always go out again, if you'd rather that..?" Moth was loathe to leave the dark coolness of the cave, but the last thing he wanted was for Onni to be anxious. He did, however, want to find some place to sleep. You didn't go about dancing with death without consequences, and the magic he'd been spelled with was wearing off. The trek down the mountain had sapped even more of the strength he didn't own, and his mind was already sluggish with it. Being worried about Onni would sure keep him awake, but he'd rather sleep.. before his headache caught up with him again.