Until recently, I lived alone with my mother in Bogbeast Waters, with no contact with anyone but her. I was naïve, and even though it was a constant struggle to care for Mama and her moods, I stayed content. As long as I brought home a good catch every day and could keep Mama from tearing down the house in one of her fits about being watched by wolf packs or murdered in the night, I could rest easy.
Now I'm all over the place, with mood swings like a 'coon swinging from the Spanish moss, flying from one tree to the next. I wonder if this is how Mama's moods felt from the inside, since I only saw them from the outside.