The boy is awoken by his empty stomach. He curls up, clutching his sore belly. A combination of hunger and pain culminates in a rude awakening. The sun's barely up for crying out loud! He groans, rolls over, and waits for his stomach to unclench so he can resume sleeping. The ache abates without vanishing. Respite eludes him. He digs his head out of the pillow. Like it or not, he's up and he'll stay that way. He rubs at dry eyes, stretches feeling into heavy limbs, and dashes on his shoes; he's put them on the wrong feet. A melodramatic sigh as he puts them on right.
Hunger’s made him cranky, meaning he's got less patience than usual for nonsense like this. Not that he has much to begin with on a Monday morning.
