Broken Boulder with a faery, hand in hand

He's been lethargic lately, slow to rise and typically eager to find any excuse to retreat to his den. Oddly enough, he awakes agitated this particular morning; he doesn't think it has anything to do with @Delight spending the night again, but he feels guilty as he slips from the den quickly and without a word. It's just better for both of them, he thinks, even if he feels like an ass.
The circle of mushrooms draws his attention immediately. He's never seen anything like it, but it gives him the creeps— maybe because he's thinking about Lennon now, and those mushrooms. Alarian has mostly put the experience out of his mind, but he recalls now the sense of betrayal he'd had to shove down in favor of dealing with unexpected hallucinations. Maybe Lennon was more of an asshole than he'd wanted to think.
It's stupid, though, isn't it? To be scared of some mushrooms. He draws nearer to sniff at them, wrinkling his nose a little. Well, they smell like normal mushrooms. He glances around the circle, and a childish urge to sit directly in the middle washes over him. He resists it— mostly because it'd be embarrassing to be found that way, but he's still sort of nervous for some reason, too.