The young male fought to express patience that was not there. His tummy rumbled and his insides ached with the anticipation of nutrition. He was a different kind of simple, though his focus was solid once it had been anchored. Pan slithered around his sire’s legs like a cat, unaware that he lacked all trace of grace. His teeth itched dimly, but tearing at the raw meat was its own kind of therapy. Expectant hues of beryl watched as his father cut off a solid piece of meat for him (it was given that he assumed that the chunk of meat was meant for him), and the boy’s teeth chewed empty air as he continued to wait forever for his father to prepare it.
The meat was snatched by hungry puppy jaws the moment it was within reach of the boy, and the D’Angelo child dragged it a few feet away from his sire; following an instinctive need to protect this piece of food from the same canine that had given it to him. It was simple green shining through, and perhaps one of many signs that the boy would find it difficult to completely adjust to functioning within the pack. While he was not an unkind child, there were small traits hiding here and there that together could speak of an uncertain future. The boy would have to be formed though. Perhaps he would do just fine.
Pan’s working jaws hesitated as his father spoke to him; asking a question. The fur along the boy’s spine rose slightly at the thought of his sisters, for he was still focused on the meal and it belonged to him. Swallowing the piece he had been working on, the boy shook his head eagerly. A "No,” followed soon after. Perhaps it was a white lie, but he couldn’t know if they were outside now, because he was not there to see it with his own eyes. The light outside wanted to hurt his eyes and ridicule the coat that revealed that he was claimed by Tak. He didn’t like it. "Maybe outside,” the child added, gray-green eyes merely thin slits above the bloody chunk of meat as he thought of the outside world.