Wapun Meadow no rest for the weary

In a way, Evie would consider himself lucky. His mother was insane, with no doubt, and what she had done could have killed him at any point in time. But she wasn't outright homicidal, and he wasn't in fear for his life. Not now that he knew not to accept food from her - or anyone, unless he trusted them completely. Maybe not even then. Fields, though, his fear was different, it seemed. It was more visceral, like he was afraid he might be harmed by the person pursuing him. The thought was unpleasant.

           Was Evien a good person? Probably not. But he did have to admit that he liked the way his name sounded when it fell from Fields' maw. 

           "Thank you," he said genuinely, green eyes crinkled in a smile. "She does look kind of like me. Taller," because she stunted his growth, most likely, "and fat. But brown fur and gray eyes. Her name is Murielle." The brown teen tipped his head to the side. "What does your guy look like?"