Kintla Flatlands Wake me up when September ends

The youth's views and lifestyle were reasserted with the flighty male before him. First, he called upon him, probably more of a curious nature than in the offering of shelter. Wolves he had met were nosy and desired to greet and either befriend or create an enemy of another. At times, neutrality was met, but that was rare.

But hadn't it been obvious that Yuda was comfortable walking in the rain? He was not hastily looking for shelter, nor did his disposition. The soaked kid had been travelling at a quicker pace than a walk, yet not quite a trot.

"I do not desire your shelter. You're a dick." His words were not spoke with disgust or venom; they were devoid of emotion. The boy turned, returning to the river he'd just left in only a few steps. It was almost comforting, the soft lull of water pulsing against his body. He would continue his trek in the sky's tears, not wasting the energy in scowling that time had been erased due to an adult who acted younger than the eight months he himself held.

Though, his mind would reflect back on the encounter and why he had paused his journey in the first place, even if for a brief moment. And for a moment longer, Yuda wondered if these lands were tainting and warping him into the very thing he hated.