Claudius remained curled in on himself, thinking. What did it mean to be happy? What did it mean to be free? What was freedom? Traveling with a circus wherever it willed? Working for said circus? Finding his own job? Not working at all? None of those seemed like things that would make him happy or feel free, but they didn't seem like things that would make him unhappy, either. The only thing that sounded like happiness was... He looked up at the black ceiling of his cage. He could hear birds calling somewhere in the distance. Flying. Flying would make him happy. Then he shook himself and dropped his gaze. Stupid fantasy, nothing more than a strange and frustrating dream. He closed his eyes, resting now that the wagon wasn't moving, and forced everything from his mind for now. He would think on it later.
~~
Kazimir studied the old wood. The broken pieces he lifted and fit together, studying them a bit before dropping them again. The rotting bits he scratched at and watched it flake away. Then he smiled and reached up, scratching a little sun into the side of the wagon. It wasn't deep or obvious, but it made him chuckle, so he added a faint little cloud next to it, then some grass and a flower below it. How charming!