natural
2: shade
The shade was cold and eyes lurked there: eyes that threatened to strip him bare if he didn't send little lightning-bolt like glares at them in return. Their fingers were cold and tried to snake around his limbs like coils of puppet-rope and they curled and held him fast even as he struggled in their grip. But at least their grip was weak once he escaped into the light and they knew he was a human plant: he craved the light. Why couldn't the dark embrace him instead: hug him close, shelter him and whisper sweet dreams instead of nightmares?