Mid-afternoon found Coquelicot perched upon a log across a gentle area of the creek, watching the eddying currents swirl past various obstructions. It was an unusually warm sun that shone in the cloudless sky that day and the tri-colored male languidly dangled one paw into the swirling water. Numerous streams and rivers had run in the vicinity of his birthplace but he always did his best to avoid the water. His brother had pushed him in more times than he could count. With that Coquelicot had become quite the accomplished swimmer, but at the cost of being subjected to amused, slightly mocking stares of his pack members when he came in sight bedraggled and dripping. </font>
Lulled by the warmth of the golden rays, Coquelicot closed his eyes and drowsily considered the current whereabouts and doings of his family. Jonquil, he <span class='word'>prognosticated</span>, probably still remained with the pack for a chance to vie for the throne. For all his diminutive size, his brother was given to airy, arrogant ways and a constant competitive attitude. His two sisters were likely together with the eldest at the lead, Aster trailing behind demurely her confident and assured sibling. As for his father . . . well, who knew what he was up to, or whether he was still alive.
Coquelicot had been too young to recall memories of him, the only knowledge of his father was passed on by his mother, who, depending on her mood, either dreamily exalted the redeeming qualities (mostly physical) of her ex-lover or cursed with a long stream of shocking, albeit unique expletives and insults.
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