An untrusting skittishness is prevalent among the communites surrounding the mountainous regions of the King Filipinas archipelago. The skewed, furtive glances exchanged when family members ask to be accompanied somewhere are a habit formed from fear of the Tikbalang. Often eerily mimicking the appearance of victims' relatives, this forest spirit will lead lone people out to the heavily wooded depths of the mountain ranges, occasionally breaking the increasingly uncomfortable silence with short bursts of reassurement, and stilted gratitude for the assistance. The suddenly pungent aroma of tobacco and drunken swaying motion adopted by the false family member is noticed before their face blurs into something that resembles more that of a horse's than a human's. Delirious town folk who have stumbled their way into town after long absences tell of how this apparation pushed and slapped them, often knocking them over and not allowing them to right themselves; all the while shaking with nervous, childish giggling. People say that the cessation of resistance or protest will suddenly lead a victim to find themselves alone in the woods, plunged into darkness; the sun long set. The path home, recalled by the few who return after a disappearance, is hampered by a severe sense of disorientation and a forest that seems to curl in on itself repeatedly.