Not everything was as it appeared. An illusion, a mask placed upon the surface. To serve what purpose? Protection, or a guise? There was nothing wrong with pretending to be something other than what's real, but disgusing it.. Could the mask be removed, be fixed, changed? Painted lines of lies, of deception, intricate designs of beauty that was created for no other purpose than to masquerade the truth. Bad reputation, hidious visage, atrocious mannerisms. All could be covered with a slip of the mask, of white, of palpable appearence. Blending in with the scenery, much like a moth. As well as a moth, grow wings a flutter away from signs of danger.

And all the same, fly straight into the flame.

Temptations too sweet to resist, of power, fame, glory. Could any creature bearing a heart turn away from such desires? False promises made by the shadows, wearing the same mask as the being it regarded. If the shadows could give such wonderful things, was it really all that horrid? And then, the foolish moths would accept the offer and give up their beings, conned into a lie by the promises made by the shadows. They lept into it, their wings singed and bodies burning until they fluttered away into no more than dust in the wind.

As well as offers of wonderful things that some can only dream about, there was the promise of protection, though this was hardly the truth. The dark would not protect. It would only destroy.