He spent most of his time hanging around Finch's den, making sure she had the herbs she needed, hunting for her, making sure she had water. He barely slept, barely ate himself, and toned down his own activities. It had been a while since she had been home, and he had yet to talk to his father. He knew they weren't happy with him, hell, he wasn't happy with himself. She had been in good hands, and he couldn't...handle it. He just needed to rest, and he hadn't meant to leave on such a sour note, really. He had just...needed to rest, right? With a soft sigh he tilted his head back to look up at the sky, skull leaning against the outter wall of Finch's den. There was something wrong with him. If it wasn't clear before, it was entirely clear now. He couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop these horrible thoughts. And the more he thought about it, the worse he felt. His mind had picked and end goal, that lead healer position, that nothing else had mattered. He worked himself to the bone, and started to think of Aunt Harmony as competition, which wasn't fair to her. He even began to distrust Sparrow, his own sister. So, he sighed. He needed help...he needed to fix whatever was broken inside of him, before he could ever hope to be any use to the pack. So instead, he got to his feet and searched for his father. He didn't know where he was, so he just moved along before, finally, giving up. "Padre , necesito hablar con usted." He called out in a language only a select few knew, his deep blue eyes searching. He hoped Bass could hear him... All he had wanted to do was make him proud. That had been his goal, to make his father proud. But something in his mind constantly told him he never could, he had to work harder. The harder he worked, the more he felt he wasn't. The more little things started to bother him until he was waking up in the night...Until he left his hurt sister... He stood where he was, preparing himself for a lashing. Bass would be mad at him, he knew that. He could feel it like a heavy rock in the pit of his stomach, making him feel sick. He felt it in his heart as it squeezed so hard, and his lungs as he could hardly take a breath. He felt it in his eyes, as they burned with unshed tears. But he remained where he stood, ready to face that, so he might start to fix these things inside of him. "Burn Baby Burn" || "Bruciare Bambino Bruciare"

He had been lingering close by just in case his daughter called out, so that he could be there for her. This had been hard on all of them, it put a strain on the entire pack. So when Starling called out for him, he was close enough to hear him. It was strange that the boy didn't call for him with a howl though, just said that he needed to talk to him. Pale ears perked, his head rising from where it had been resting on his paws. He didn't sound very good, but then again none of them had been lately. Pulling himself to his paws, he stepped lightly to where his son stood, golden eyes inspecting his form. He looked rough for wear, making Bass sigh softly. "Cosa sta succedendo, Starling?" he asked softly, sitting in front of the male. They had not spoken since he had called out when Finch came home, and he wasn't sure that Starling had heard him. His ears pulled back slightly, he wanted to bring it up but... now wasn't the time. It was clear that he needed to get something off his chest, and he wouldn't stop him from talking. He could bring it up later, after whatever he needed to talk about.

"Speech"
'thoughts'
"Italian"