Wapun Meadow Oh, don't yiz hear the old man say?

Baba had been trying to show him the plants again but Ashlar had not been able to pay attention.  He tried his hardest, but his thoughts whirled about, more concerned with the beauty and the color than the uses his father laid out.  The boy didn't want to think about hurt or sick wolves when he saw a flower.  He preferred the scent of it there, stem intact.

Baba was fortunately forgiving and sent him laughing to play.  Ashlar did not want to wander far but his curious nature overwhelmed him.  He had a carefree and open heart and the horizon called to it.

A song!  Ashlar heard the singing before he saw the wolf and his mind delighted in it!  The youth began to croon a low sound, his contra trying to match the shanty that traveled near the lake.  Ashlar did not wonder if the stranger was friendly.  A song was never to be feared.