AN: Do I own FMA? If I did, Shou Tucker would not have lived as long as he did in the first anime.
Well, I've never seen any fics about manga Sloth, so here's one! ^_^ (and yes, the writing style with choppy sentences is done on purpose. )
His name. He had a name. Sloth, it was. That meant he didn't want to do anything tiring or difficult. Not like digging the hole. That hole. There was so much work. So much work that had to be done. Thinking about it was so tiring. It made him want to sleep. Sleep felt so good.
Sloth, he had been told, wasn't just him. It was something the humans did. A bad thing the humans did. Called a sin. Bad like the others. He didn't think he was a sin, or that he did bad things. He didn't think he did good things, though, either. He didn't like thinking about good or bad. Or where he stood when it came to them. It was very tiring. It made him feel like he was being given orders. By Father.
Sloth had liked the cold. The snow and the gray haze and the cloud-obscured glowing sun sank down. They had been pretty, so pretty, like they were bringing him to sleep. The fast winds seemed to be alive as they swirled around him, into the tunnel. He had finished. He had finished and he still didn't get to sleep. He would soon, though. He was sure he could wait. Waiting wasn't too hard. But he needed to battle first. Fighting. He had never liked fighting. He was no fighter. Even though he had the abilities to help him in fighting. It was strange. Such a bother.
The lady with the long, light hair, the lady of the North, seemed like she was not only a fighter but a great fighter. A human with a sword. Swinging it all around. Like an icicle. He guessed he'd have to fight her. She seemed liked around a match for him. She was a soldier-human. A good fighter. A real challenge, lots of work, or maybe not. Thinking about it would be too difficult and might ruin his concentration in the battle. Soon, he knew he would sleep. Until then he would fight. Until then he would fight and wait for the sleep to gently sink him, like the clouded moon of the bone-cold Northern sky, and he would rest past as many freezing sunrises as the sleep permitted him to. He would wait. And then he could finally sleep.