Under my control

Thorn was thrilled!  He didn’t know Sota well but clearly, he was a pretty great wolf.  The pup couldn’t leave pack land without an adult and there were so many places Thorn wanted to explore. The boy had a pattern of moving at a set pace with Sota then swerving off to check out some scent or some sight that fascinated him.  After a moment he’d loop back around to be next to Sota.  Thorn understood a basic concept.  Good behavior was more likely to get more trips out.

The blue pup’s head tried to twist enough to see everything at once, eyes wide open as if it would somehow help soak in more of the sights.  Of course, what Thorn had imagined doing at first seeing the water was to run up and check it out.  He had started to leap forward with the idea of running to it when Sota told him not to. The boy reluctantly slowed down, giving Sota the most tortured look to try and win the right to go closer.  “Does it go deep?” The boy's brow furrows looking toward it.  “I’ve played at the beach but, never went out far so the waves weren’t bad.”  It wasn’t an attempt at bragging so much as wanting something to compare the water he’d playing in compared to the water he was used to.  It would be so cool when he got bigger and could go out deeper.

Thorn had to train even when he was having fun and learning the land more.  This form of training included taking his stick sword with him.  Two sticks, one slid through the other and wrapped in vines.  A marvelous weapon, at least until he learned how to make something better.  The boy hadn’t figured out how to talk well through it though so responding to Sota meant dropping the ‘sword’ to ask questions and then picking it up again.  It was awkward but the boy had to be strong.  When he was grown up he’d travel the land as a proud warrior and face any challenge he faced.  He’d be the best, of course.

Thorn saw what he guessed was a few large branches in the distance, not seeing all of it but that was his mind's best guess.  As they moved closer his idea of a few real big sticks started turning into some large but also smaller sticks put together.  They weren’t even right next to it yet and the boy was starting to get a much better idea of it.  The sword was dropped, “Hey, Sota?  Who put all those sticks there?  That’s a whole lot of sticks!” Thorn was entranced enough he started to take another few steps without his sword before he remembered to run back and grab it.  What great sword wielder forgets his sword??

"Thorn Carpathius"