Stone Circle yeet machine

He likes to dance. It is an odd characteristic, but one he flaunts nonetheless, wiggling his lil toosh and jumping up on his hind legs ever so often. In actuality, he's just trying to capture that pretty looking bug that keeps fluttering around his head, but, onlookers could be very easily mislead as to exactly what he's doing with his body at that present moment in time. He does it often. Maybe its just the concept of movement that excites him, being able to use his legs and move his head and make sounds with his mouth that is just so cool. He knows he certainly couldn't do that a week ago when he was nothing more than a blob laying about with some other blobs, doing nothing at all. Ezra babbles loudly to himself, now giving off the impression that he is both dancing AND singing, a true rockstar in his natural habitat. He simply can't be bothered at this age, traits he will wear out in the years to come, forming a man with rock-hard emotions and leaving no trace that this innocence existed in him. For now he sings chats audibly to himself while the flying-bug flutters tauntingly above his head, ignorant of the world around him