Day in day out, children fearfully cowering to the side of their parents at the sight of him. It was just performing, or so that’s what most assumed anyways. Even just standing there and glaring at the audience was enough to tire him out, wishing he could return to the cold metal of his cage.

Ever since he was a child, he was no more than an object, an experiment, a failed experiment. A freak of nature sold into a place where freaks were supposed to be worshipped and shown off for the betterment and make them more acceptable.

He never believed that, at least not about himself. A muzzled beast he was called, a creature parents used to scare kids into doing as they were told, having no need for a name or any proper title at all. He was just an ‘it’ and a ‘that’ to the world.

Kenai loved his cage at this point. A place where he could be alone, sleep, not even be there if his mind dozed off that far, unfortunately it didn’t. There wasn’t even a bed for him, only a worn mattress and a thin blanket

There was one particular thing though that caught him by surprise, a scent he didn’t catch onto all the way at the back of the Circus. Sugar. Too sweet. The saccharine smell assaulting his nose, making it crinkle as he glanced over to where he heard faint footsteps.

Typically he wouldn’t catch any interest, but seeing somewhat of a new member of the Circus that smelt too sweet for a place so bitter piqued his interest and even appetite with such a distinctive fragrance.