Be good. That was all he was told to do so he did what he felt was the safest. He found the nearest corner, wrapped his arms around his legs and hid his head. This position was safe for everyone. For himself and for Sam. This was a game. A trick. An illusion maybe. Lazar would be watching.

And he had already done bad. Done bad and Lazar knew. He had to be nothing but perfect now if he wanted to keep his wings out of harms reach.