King Elk Forest This poem is mournful & sentimental & filled with complaints:

Ramsay was busying himself with attempting to wrap his arms around a rotting stump in the snowy forest when Delight's howl rang out. Frustrated because his body was demanding an outlet for his stress and he was unable to secure it, the boy aimed a kicked at the stump, caving in the side of it, and then ambled off to heed the leader's call. It took only a few seconds for the tingle in his belly to subside and the stress was pushed back into the compartment of his brain intended for its safekeeping.

Cicero had led he and Euron to this pack, where they would be safe, but it was a long and hard road if they intended to make suitable citizens out of him and his brother. Take the gathering, for instance. Ramsay didn't yet know the significance of the elk that came into view when he zoned in on Delight's position. He didn't know the pack revered it, or that it was special in any way. He also didn't really know pack meeting etiquette, since Blackfeather Woods had never had such a gathering. And he had an authority problem, so that was a thing too.

When Ramsay arrived he didn't greet Delight, sit politely nearby, or do any of the things one might expect of a young pack member at a meeting. Instead, he went right for the fallen elk and proceeded to try to worry its thick foreleg with his teeth as his belly grumbled greedily.