Work Text:
1. Fundy doesn’t miss his parents
Fundy has parents. Siblings too. Or maybe had is more accurate. He doesn’t know. Why would he? He hasn’t seen them since leaving his kithood den behind.
His parents had taught to him hunt and steal and trick, and that’s that. His siblings had provided him with practice, and that’s that. They need nothing more from him and he needs nothing more from them.
Sometimes, after a night of long dreams and deep nightmares or after a day of trickery with Wilbur, he’ll feel a longing for something. But that something isn’t his family.
At least, he thinks it isn’t.
2. Fundy needs no approval
Not even his own, really. He’s done plenty of dumb ideas, with full knowledge of their dumbness. It’s just his nature. As long as someone is being screwed over, even if it’s himself, he’s doing his job.
Of course, approval can be nice. It usually translates to people liking him, and if people like him, it means they tend to be easier to scam. But, at the end of the day, the approval and disapproval of people – friend or foe, family or stranger – feeds him in equal measure.
He’s not sure what it would be like, constantly craving approval. He has no desire to find out.
3. Fundy is happy
He has his berries and his foxhole – not the same foxhole, granted, but a hole nonetheless – and his scams. Death does not linger, nor any other consequence. He lives with people who are his friends or his enemies or both – usually both – and he steals from them frequently. They also steal from him, but, hey, he respects the hustle. He never feels lonely or bored. Fearful, occasionally, but that always passes quickly.
It’s a non-serious life, just the way he likes it.