Sun Mote Copse burn the world that you call civilized

Fig watched the other boy react--every emotion seemed written across his face. The frowns, the scowls, the confusion. Figment read it all and considered it all with that empathetic thoughtfulness that always guided him. He was pretty sure that this stranger was similar in age to him, and yet he felt years older. He regarded this boy in a way that was similar to how he regarded his younger siblings--something to be protected, guided. Something that was too young, too naive to really understand. Fig pitied him.

That didn't mean he wasn't wary of him, though. It also didn't mean he thought he had any right to make a decision about whether he ought to drive the other boy off or invite him to stay. That was up to @Wraen or @Towhee. They weren't here, though, and Figment wasn't certain yet that he ought to bother them. "Yes, this is my pack's claim," he explained, "You're not allowed to enter this forest unless you're pack." He watched the boy's face for any recognition that would suggest he understood, but decided to venture the question just to be safe, "You understand what pack is?"