His black spotted golden pelt blended into the shadows of the tunnels but his golden eyes flagged anyone down towards his position. The tom was not made for the dark, from a land open to the elements, moors with wide stretches of open spaces. Long grass that helped him hide when hunting and plentiful food due to the barns that littered the moorside. The adjustment to this new environment was still happening in increments as he worked towards coming into his own. The first steps had been made, the tom now holding a title to his name, but Gywn Ap Nudd wanted to watch the tykes he helped raise grow, he wanted them to come to him for advice when they had long since grown old enough to care for themselves. Which meant heavy investment now. "Careful now." He called as he watched one rough tyke show another into the dirt.