Azalea didn’t think much about her childhood. It was something that was—something that defined her, yes, but nothing that would help her move forward in the ever changing landscape of Burrowgatory. Though, on occasion, Azalea would allow her mind to wander. To think of her youth. It was a waste of time—besides, it wasn’t like her to remember the past and cringe. She was too elegant to do so. She lived in the moment, carefully planning her moves to get ex...
