Who stole the dog? [Ezra x Vitale SL]

The camp quivered with life. Of course, said life was all but exciting, but for many a person here, it was all that they knew. They strutted around, uncertain of what to do or where to head.

It was a perfect environment for a low humming noise to get lost in, and Ezra was getting quite upset that nobody was responding to his increasingly loud 'hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm's.

The young lad stood in the middle of a crossing between some huts in the camp. People moved left and right and whenever they passed him by, he 'hmmmmmm'd at their face, which they either ignored or gave him weird looks, telling him to screw off. Perhaps it was because his face had, by then, turned into a semi-pissed off pout. Not scary by any means, but far from belonging in a slave camp either.

A cat meowed from his shoulder and he glanced at it, smirking eerily. "There there, we'll find him, you'll see. Don't be too upset, ok?" He spoke to the cat, then looked at his stomach for a while before continuing. "You too. And you other two as well," he said, seemingly to the stomach in question, giving it a pat.

Under one of his arms, he held a wooden gameboard. He used the other hand to pat the cat's head. "Hmmmmmmmm. Excuse meeee, have you seen a dooog around here somewhere?"

"Piss off," some random stranger replied and Ezra stuck his tongue out, slumping his shoulders.

"Awww come on- Nobody here's friendly. I wanna go back to mama. She'd help me find him." He continued 'hmmmmmmmmm'ing and trying to grab people hands and attentions, until he perchance ran into a specific oddball individual in the camp who would maybe respond to him.