His mother's comforting touch was the first thing that Herne truly enjoyed about the outside world. The brown boy pressed himself against his mother's nuzzle, leaning into the casual touch. And as his father offered him a comforting brush as well, Herne thumped his tail against the earth, nudging the much larger male slightly with his body.
What did he think? "Big." Herne would observe simply, turning his gaze from the summer sky to his parents. His maw opened, half prepared to say something else about the strangeness of the world around him, when another wolf appeared. He rose to his paws and scooted back several steps until he could look at the other properly, without tilting his head back to stare up at her.
Still, he said nothing, not even as she questioned the identities of himself and his siblings. Instead, his gaze wide, Herne watched silently, waiting to hear what his parents and siblings would say to the stranger.
"Speech"
