Nanna had been outside for less than an hour, but in that space of time, he'd come to a conclusion that his earlier opinion was absolutely correct: he did not like the daytime. Oh he still loved the desert, with all it's mystery and wonder, surprisingly busy and full of life. But he preferred it when it was shaded and muted, under the light of his moon. ( It was so much prettier that way. )

Nanna didn't really consider himself old. Despite the number of chronological years that he'd been in existence, as Lord of Time, it was all more than a little fluid to him. He was both old and young, and all points in between, all at the same moment. Which, Nanna could admit, might get a tad confusing. If he thought about it too long himself it made him feel as though his brain was going cross-eyed. It was a novel sensation, and he enjoyed it on occasion, but most often, he simply accepted that things were as they were.

( He was not old. )

Generally speaking, Nanna was a night owl.  It was not only because of the nature of his duties with the moon, but also because that was when those who studied secretly did their most diligent work.  But on occasion, when the situation called for it, he could and did get up during the daylight hours.  Today, the sun was still strong against his back as it dipped toward the horizon, ( so the sand was warm and comfortable when he settled in. )