Muhmuhmuh, babbled Corsair at an early spring bee as it lazily hovered over a bush mere feet from the den's entrance. The boy was flat on his back, limbs splayed every which way, with his head turned toward the bumbling insect. The bee said nothing in response. Typically, the wolves in his life responded when he made noise, and whether or not what they said was comprehensible, Corsair had quickly come to depend on that attention. The bee blithely ignored him, and that made the Donata's face scrunch up.
What a rude creature.
Intent on showing it who was boss, Corsair rolled slowly onto his side and spoke again, a louder reiteration of, muhMUHMUH, that once more failed to stir a reaction. The pup's temper welled and he slapped first his forepaws and then his tail on the ground before rising to his feet. Oh, he'd show that bee. Corsair was one of the most important pups in the world, as far as he was concerned—as far as he could be concerned about anything, in fact—and that bee was gonna listen to him, damnit.
MUHMUH, he veritably screeched as he lifted a paw and swatted at it. His foot met the ground with the unfortunate bee trapped beneath it, and within seconds he was squealing and sobbing as the pain and shock of being stung for the first time registered, its source somewhere in the tender skin between his toes.