Maybe it should be more unsettling to get a mysterious voice in his head from an indiscernible flying shape overhead. But Kaworu doesn't seem particularly unsettled by it. He's heard this voice before, at least. And after all, his own siblings often took strange and monstrous shapes.

"There's beauty even in chaos," he calls up to the flying thing, conversationally even as he carries on at his sedate pace. True, the destruction of what had been a joyous occasion was sad, but purely in terms of scenery? The flickering of firelight against the shadowed woods could be seen as aesthetically appealing. He was fairly certain Lilim artists called it chiaroscuro.