Birdsong

The young man found the Italian lesson his father had tried to give hard. Really, really hard. He didn't grasp the words easily, though he was slowly picking up on certain words or phrases. He was far from becoming fluent, however, and that  frustrated him to no end. He was perfect! The language was just being stupid and hard to learn. There was no way he was at fault for that. His siblings were just lucky with it, already grasping the concept of Italian far easier than Shrike had himself.

The boy would sit alone, his mind filled with thought. He knew what he wanted to do as he got older. What he wanted to train in. He would breathe in and out, overlooking the plains as the sun began to set. This was his home, and he wanted to work to defend it. He loved his family, truly, above all else. Shrike would grin, suddenly bounding to his paws. Yes, he would be Shrike, the mighty defender of Abaven! In excitement the boy would bolt off, bi-colored eyes peeled to find either his mother or his father. He hadn't spent enough time with either lately it seemed... especially not his mother. Perhaps he would focus his attention on seeing her today.

"Speech,"
'Thoughts'
"Italian"