Nope, there is not sign of anything like that. The bats don't even leave marks that you would expect from clothing being violently stretched.

"… Are you fucking kidding me."

There is no response, only the noise of bats useless tackling the tent. Funny how they don't get tired or do something else.

"I honestly, really did not expect this, but I think I might in fact derive some pleasure from harming whoever put me here, you utter fucker."

Breathe.

He breathes and tries to calm himself down because this godawful freaking place – was any of that necessary, did it achieve anything at all, can he think of any way to get around the stupid, fucking, magical whatever the fuck put him here?

No. He cannot and should just – quit with the rage.

Breathe.

I don't suppose you're awake yet, he communicates, to Evan.

… Something wrong?

Isn't it like 4am.

And I'm awake enough to respond, yes.

You should probably, like, not that.

Also I hate this place.

What did it do?

Impenetrable fucking forcefield tent, I hope – it set some freaking bats on me with wingspans the side of my arms and why the hell it felt the need to do as such I have zero-point-five percent of an idea.

… But the tent protected you?

No, see, first I thought it was going to collapse, so I went running around. Because that seemed like a smart thing to do. To grab a wind totem and shove them away from me. And I only just got back to my tent. And did you know this is part of a stupid combat or dark time – whatever, it's a quest adventure mode thing.

… I don't think that makes much sense.

No, he says. It does not.

I hope you're okay in the tent.

Me too.

I really am not a fan of whoever put me here.

Make that two… probably three… of us.

You should get some sleep.

So should you, from the sound of it.

Yep.

Night.

Sleep tight.

Did you just sass me.

I was just wishing you goodnight.

And anyway, it's like 4am. You'll cope.

… Love you.

Uh-huh. You too. Now sleep.