Roy's POV
My day started as it normally did.
Training, a shower, breakfast--anxiety?
It was roiling in my stomach starting at nine in the morning, feelings of nausea bubbling in my gut. Blaz hit me in the shin with his paw, staring up at me with obvious concern. He was a bit of a bumbling cub, knocking into me, often clinging to my legs, and had told me on many occasions that his mother was too strong to die, that I was wrong.
What he said literally translated to: "You know nothing."
Reaching down, I patted him on the head and he nipped at my fingers. He was still cross about the fact that I hadn't taken him to see his mother yet and, with a long sigh, I ignored my emotional overload, and finally did what the cub asked of me.
Baz had wailed at the sight of his fallen caretaker.
