11-20-2015, 09:32 PM
Azariel didn't like this. Not one bit, thank you very much. It was smelly and cold and awful and he was alone. His mother. He remembered her, of course he did. He'd know her his whole life. Well, some mother she was, she'd gone and left him here all alone. Now he considered himself a right grown-up, he was almost a year old after all. A whole year. But right now he was scared. And angry and petulant. He took his petulance and formed it into a glare aimed at the wall, huffing. He supposed he had every right to act childish, he'd just been...what was the word for it? Abandoned! That's right he had been abandoned. Left all by his lonesome. How was he supposed to fend for himself? Was the woman crazy? What if there were..were...wolves or...mountain lions or something? He was surely doomed.
Now convinced this was the end of his short and rather uneventful life, he began to pace, looking around. He jumped at every sound, thinking maybe it was some predator and it was his time to face it. After awhile he considered the thoughts silly. But he couldn't help but be on edge, alert as he could be to his surroundings, expecting danger at any corner.