"Gwenigwoo?" The strange cry echoed throughout the great stone caverns of southern Dheathain. Before the residual sound could fade, the creature emitting continued its haunting howl.

"Oooo-ooo-ooo-oooOOOooo."

Wedged inside a red sandstone crevasse filled with luminous fungi, the batboy cooed softly to nothing and no one, except the insects and small creatures that shared the tunnels and caverns that were his home. His song floated around gnashing stalactites and stalagmites, echoing in time with the drip, drip, drip of deep-ground moisture.

The batboy spun around on his hands and feet, face bathed in the bio-luminescence as he dipped into an alcove he had carved with craggly fingernails. He had no hair on his head nor chin nor upper lip, but a fuzzy black fur coated his ears, beneath his arms, and around his groin. His skin was pale, though not unhealthy in its pallor, looking almost blue in the cavern's strange light.

His dirty hands pulled a large insect carcass from the hideaway. He had been too tired to hunt, and so he would eat one of the less-tasty bugs he had saved. They always tasted better fresh, when the viscera dripped and he could drink his fill of warmth. But the cold, ashen-dry body would sustain him as well. His powerful teeth chomped the bug to bits, which he readily swallowed.

The batboy curled up and lay his bald head down to sleep, shivering. He did not understand what was happening to him. He felt as though he had just exerted himself on a great hunt, and yet he had lain around the entire day. All he could think to do was sleep, and hope he had the energy to find fresh food when he awakened.

(The batboy is sick! I am hoping that someone will find a reason to come into the caves and pull him out, although whether it's to help, hurt, or use him is entirely up to your characters. Come one come all, I don't bite... oh wait, haha!)