Would it be considered terrifying to stand in an unknown space, completely blackened with no notion of what was going on around, while the armies of hell came marching toward you?
It might depend on what one was used to on a daily basis. For starters, lack of sight was never a problem for Morir. He never knew anything else, couldn't remember having ever seen anything but blackness reaching out endlessly before him, around him, above and beyond even when he still had eyeballs. It was more likely that a sudden invasion of light, color and shapes in his mind would scare him from his senses - because how, after all, do you explain something you have never seen before?

Perhaps it disappointed the instigator behind the clamping, scratching and screeching to find that the obsidian youth didn't panic as noises erupted around him. Rather, he simply froze in place as ears pinned even tighter against the poll, orbless eyes pinching painfully as the echoes drummed maddeningly against the skull. The masked head rose back and up, head stretching high to let him taste the air suspiciously, long tresses swaying like silken curtains from the neck as they fell back toward the shoulders. Behind tensing flanks that whip-like tail snapped furiously, daring whoever to come out of hiding.

In the midst of the ruckus, the sound of hooves clapping and sliding down a stony path was drowned out, leaving the descent of the Wormfodder unnoticed until she spoke. Morir lowered the head with an angry snort, head turning toward the sound of her voice with a look of contempt on his face; the ears remained pinned as he slowly managed his large bulk of a body around.

"Hilarious bloke you have there" he growled in a rumble of bass tones that reverberated menacingly through the caves. "Do tell me he's got more than this charming talent for practical hokes to show..."

The distaste was apparent on his voice, tail continuing to whip the air around him, a vent for the boiling indignation that tensed all those rippling muscles. Tasting the air with nose and lips the gargoyle tried to get a sense of where this supposed 'leader' had placed himself he stepped forward, unwilling to hide behind Confutatis like a frightened colt and be protected; he wanted to face this bastard himself, to find out what kind of stallion it was that claimed lordship over all others.