The Moth awakens, as if a smooth transition from sleep to awake through a gradient scale rather than a jarring leap to alertness. Something had jarred a few of his traps. The alarms had rung out and awoken the Moth. He shut his eyes and inhaled slowly, once, as he let his ears pinpoint on the noise's origin, then he rose up as if water; he was fluid, maneuvering first with his hands on the branch he had decided to lay up. Then the rest of his body shifted in the same graceful manner until he was crouched on the branch. He carefully pulled the cloak of leaves and twigs about him, then began to pick his way through the branches.
It was apparent that moving like this would give away his position, but the camouflaging- while simplistic and rudimentary- would assist in his form itself remaining unnoticed. At least, in theory.
The man moved to the edge of his current tree and lowered himself down to the branch, carefully. He had strapped his spear to this branch for various reasons, and thus he needed to retrieve it. Slowly untying the weapon was a deft process, and soon enough the Moth hugged the branch and twisted around it to fall softly to the ground below, gripping the spear tightly in a bandaged hand while he hugged his cloak of leaves about him.
It was time to find the cause of the noise, leaving his fake camp behind on the ground.
---
The Moth, first interaction
Two humans, a male and a female. It was groups like this that Moth often encountered. The Male was rising up from a simple snare he had come into the bad graces of, and the female bore a weapon. As the Moth studied them, he deliberated on what to do. If a fight broke out, these two could easily overpower him. A few seconds later, and the male on his feet, Moth cleared his throat and called out in his gruff, travel-worn, voice;
"You're not beasts. I set traps for beasts, and people fall into them. Didn't realize this was tribe territory."
This, he hoped, would calm them enough to not instantly attack him as he rose up and cast off his camouflage, allowing his lean, small, form to become visible to the duo, his spear held low in a non-hostile manner.
"Many apologies, strangers. Noise to alert, trap to hold, spear to kill. Beasts, not people, are my prey."