at last, she knew what the agony had been for

Asmodeus gave a little squeak as his mother tucked him in closer, more surprised by the movement than anything else. He resigned himself to his fate and decided he might as well get himself comfy, wiggling himself into her so he could rest his head on her. He closed his eyes, more on instinct than anything else, since it wasn't like he was cutting off much information by doing so, and breathed in the warm, comforting and familiar scent of his mother.

"It's smelly." He finally responded to Theory's question. "I can't really tell where any of the smells are comin' from so I keep tripping." He tried in vain to keep the whine from his voice. Asmodeus tried his best not to let how frustrated he often was show, but he was still young and emotional control wasn't exactly a known strength of most children.