Taming Ceasar

The silent boy would escape from the den, lanky paws carrying him as far away from it as he could get. His mother had disappeared, and his siblings were asleep. So now was as good a time as ever right? Mismatched eyes gazed about, taking in the scenery of the Northern terrain. Snow...how he hated it. He didn't know why they had come here, he missed his den back home and he often had half a mind of going back to see if daddy was there. He hadn't seen his daddy around for a while, and wondered if he was back home sleeping in their den. The den where he was born. A low puppy-like growl bubbled in his throat as he snapped at the air, for some reason he felt angry...and yet he didn't know why. The boy would continue to walk, soon coming upon something nearby that he hadn't expected.

A sound of strange flapping was nearby, the boy changing his path to seek out what it was. And not long, he came upon a small bird. A mockingbird upon the ground, leaning on it's side with a wing laying awkwardly on the ground. It looked young, where did it come from? He looked about, wondering where the parent birds were. Did it fall from a nest? He had no idea. He stood there and stared, the bird staring back at him. And roughly, he would extend a paw and swipe at it. As if it were a plaything...the bird yelled at him, screaming at him almost to stop and leave it alone. And yet, it would only rile him further. He growled back, teeth snapping as he would bounce forward and backward, teeth snapping closed each time near the panicked bird. He was having fun, little did he know it was his strange sense of sadism that was making him act this way, and little did he know it was wrong to torture the creature who in reality, would be fine if he had stopped heckling it.
"Speech"
'thoughts'