The World's Enemy

 "Y-you gotta be careful.." His timid voice barely called over the rushing of the waters, and he wasn't sure if it could be heard over the sounds. He had been wandering along, as silent as a little bird, searching for new plants to take home and ask their names in Italian. His knowledge was slowly growing with each new word he learned, but he easily forgot them. Except for the ones for the flowers, if his father knew the word for them. Those stuck with him, more so than the words for animals or stones or even his parents. His little tongue could move along the new words and tones easily, it was only his memory that failed him at points. He had walked along the embankment of the river, searching for new flowers that he hadn't seen. It wasn't often that Starling found himself in this part of the packlands, often sticking close to the den and his siblings. But as he grew older, the need to adventure grew stronger. Even if it wasn't leaving the borders (which Starling had done from time to time) he still felt a little anxiety wandering too far from his home.

Clearing his throat, now, he lowered his head and shifted his eyes away from the young wolf in the water. He had seen him at a distance and watched as he stepped more and more into the rushing and unsafe waters, and his anxiety skyrocketed. This boy could easily be swept away, and Starling knew he did not have the strength or the know-how to save him. Prevention was key, after all. So he had rushed towards him and spoke without really thinking.

His head seemed to sink lower to the ground as he flicked wavering eyes back to the boy. He knew the stranger was part of his pack, but he hadn't really seen him. But then again, Starling always had his nose in the grass he barely noticed the season slipping by. "I-if...you fall, I mean. I...umh, I can't save you.." He whispered, looking up at him again and offering a small smile. Starling wasn't much younger than him, he thought, but he was still shy around new wolves.

"Burn Baby Burn"