Naboo stared down into the cot. The bars were so high, he was just tall enough to see down in. It was early evening in the middle of summer, it had been a warm day and the small room seemed to have an orange glow from the slow sunset. The room itself was silent, but there was a faint hum of noise coming from the other side of the cheap windows which permanently had condensation between the glazing. It was the sound of youth, most likely heading out for some kind of midsummer merriment. No doubt Vince would be part of that crowd, all too keen to get away from reality, and drown his sorrows in whatever quirkily named concoctions were on offer to him. Howard was no better, he'd also fled the scene, all too quick to take the offer from a newspaper advertisement to go to the London Fields for some sort of lonely hearts picnic gathering. Naboo was still pretty sure that Vince had set it up to try and get Howard out of the flat, after all, it had been weeks.
Naboo looked down at the small body that was lying on its back, hands clenched into tiny fists, yet, unlike most fists in Hackney, there was no ill intention behind them. There was no ill intention in the creatures entire being. The shaman squinted, watching the chest of the small being, however, it's black clothes made it rather difficult to check for movement. The infant wore a black baby-grow which adorned a single white bat outline on the stomach area. The young male cocked his head to the left in confusion, gently dipping his left arm into the cot and resting two fingers on the being's chest. He furrowed his eyebrows and pushed slightly on the small human's chest, still feeling nothing. After a few more moments of nothing, he eventually spoke out. "Bollo-?" He began, but, caught his breath and brought his attention back to the infant lying in front of him, which had decided to finally exhale. Naboo stared at it's strange figure for some time. Where he came from, the idea of a family was unheard of and most of the young were left to fend for themselves, leaving only the strongest and wisest left to carry on the species. Or, so he told himself. The idea that, for at least the next sixteen hours, this tiny being of a breed foreign to his own was putting its very existence into his, blatantly untrustworthy and undeserving hands, was something he had been struggling to fathom since the early afternoon.
The room was heavy with his thoughts when Bollo finally decided to stop what he was doing and check to see as to why his name had been called in such an unfamiliar tone. He stood in the doorway and watched Naboo, who was still watching the newborn's slight movements with complete absorption and adoration. Bollo grunted, just to make sure that Naboo was aware of his presence. Naboo jolted his head up, from being craned over the bars and looked at Bollo.
"It's nothin', go hit record on Jeremy, I'll be in in a minute." He said sternly, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have been. Bollo sighed, having known his friend for so long, he decided that it wasn't worth getting into a discussion. He grunted again in confirmation, turned and left.
