Chapter Text
The sun beat down on the alligator as she made her way down the near-familiar rough stone path in front of her house. Her mother was waiting at the back of the car, black eyes watching as her daughter moved closer to her. Mango scrunched up her snout, rubbing her eyes and shying away from the sun. She stopped, itching at the side of her head, but snapped to attention once she remembered why she'd emerged from the sparsely-decorated bedroom that she called her den. She quickly hustled over to where her mother was waiting.
She didn't say anything---being used to her antics by now---and handed her a decently-sized box that was maybe about half of the size of her abdomen. It was pretty heavy---what, was it made of, metal?---but Mango managed to lug it all the way to the door with great effort. She nudged the door open with her hip, setting down the box at the foot of the stairs. Her father was lazing around on the chemical-stinking couch, mouth open and slightly drooling. His tail vaguely flicked around, tapping out a dull rhythm against the side of the velvet blue couch.
She tsked, moving over and removing his glasses before lightly skipping outside. A bird chirped nearby, catching her attention. It flapped its vibrant feathers, giving her a snooty look before chirping again and flying away.
"MANGO!" Her mother called, waving her pale green hand until she finally glanced away from the sky.
"Ah, sorry! I was distracted by that bird."
She ran over again, flapping her arms like the birds' wings unintentionally. She grabbed the nearest box, gave her mother a ditzy, sheepish smile, and walked inside, carefully waddling up the stairs. It was hard to see past the box and her snout combined, but if she angled her head at an uncomfortable side angle she could somewhat navigate them. He rammed his head into the door gently and it creaked open, opening the doorway into the too-bright room that he called his own.
Mango set the box underneath the window, next to the taller box, and went scrounging around in the lackluster art supplies scattered on the floor for scissors. While his fingers could technically be sharp enough to cut through the thick duct tape, he didn't wanna go through the sharp throbbing that he knew would come after the box opened. Mango snipped the duct tape with impatient sloppiness, just ready to unpack his stuff and get it arranged in the ways he wanted.
When the duct tape finally gave way, he tugged away the flap and revealed the neat rows of clothes that had lumps of more art supplies and the occasional secret snack. He eagerly grabbed one of the bundles of cloth, unrolling it lazily and tearing into the piece of wrapped beef jerky he'd left in there. He took out all of the clothes in there and tossed them absently behind him, searching for the foldable table that he'd shoved down in there. Mango tugged it out, wincing when the cardboard grated against his dry scales. The table came out with a bit more force than what he would've liked, and Mango fell down, hitting the back of his head against a box that had just randomly appeared behind him.
"OW!" He yelped, rubbing his spines and glaring back at the wall.
Mango stood up, dusted himself off and picked up the table. He unfolded the table and set it up by the sleeping bag that was strung open by the small window at the end of the room, taking some of the art supplies from the box and messily arranging it on the table. He shoved all of the clothes into one pile at the end of the sleeping bag, curling up inside of the cold red thing. It took a while before he finally felt comfortable, but the alligator eventually managed to find an angle where his tail wasn't uncomfortably pressed against the end of the sleeping bag.
"Mango! Dinner!"
His father's voice happened to pierce through the dense fog of his brain just when he was about to fall asleep. The alligator groaned, forcing himself to get up. He stretched, letting out a satisfied groan when his back made a satisfying crack. He sent a mournful look at the warm sleeping bag and went downstairs.