That the tomuwog was aware of their presence there could be no doubt. Twinkling eyes examined each of them in turn. Upset at their presence but apparently convinced they posed no immediate threat, it proceeded to haul itself over to the glittering, glimmering nest and settle itself atop the pile of carefully scavenged color.
Resuming eating, but slowly so as not to startle the placid creature, Simna leaned over to whisper to the herdsman. “Where do they come from, bruther? Eggs?”
“I am not sure.” Observing the remarkable beast, Ehomba wore a satisfied smile. “I believe they lay light. This light then matures according to the predominating colors within which it is brought up, and becomes a full-grown tomuwog. As I have said, they are shy creatures and difficult to see. They almost never wander outside their burrows.”
A sudden thought caused the swordsman to put down the remainder of his food. “Hoy, what do they eat? Doesn’t look like it has any teeth.”
“That is a real mystery, Simna.” In contrast to his hesitant companion, Ehomba had no trouble finishing his food. “No one has ever seen a tomuwog eating. I would not think there was much to eat between blue and green, but if my elders had not explained it to me I would not have thought there was much space there, either. Perhaps they forage on little bits of wandering moonlight, or the motes we see dancing in a shaft of afternoon sunshine. Since no one knows what they eat with, it is understandable that nobody knows what they eat.” Seeing the look on his friend’s face, he added, “Whatever it is, I do not think that people are a part of its diet.”