7 years old, got his bat in his hand;
He’s looking for his father and he doesn't understand.
'Cause dad's too busy, got some deals on the way.
His son sits alone as the children play...
- Cartel; "Wasted"
Mom was away again, doing goodness knows what. Since Angier - Uncle Angier as he was commonly referred as - was busy doing his rounds about the pack territory borders, Gus was, once more and as always, he was left to his own devices. At four months old, he was old enough now, or so he thought, to at least look after himself and return to his designated 'rendezvous' site before or whenever his mother called for him. These days though, he was often reminded, time and time again, to simply not wander far enough as to prompt her to search for him. Being left in the middle of what seemed like a sea of willows, though, didn't help anything.
The boy was just laying around beneath the shade of his mother's willow tree on his side when a something small came scurrying about in the grass nearby. Its hurried gait rustled the drying grasses and, ultimately, garnered his attention. Up on all feet he went, using his nose to follow after the creature, whose bushy, gray tail was held up high, just like his mother's when she had a mind to scold him for straying too far for her liking.
This sort of chasing game sped up when the thick-furred rodent caught sight of Gus, whose lumbering, puppy-pawed footsteps easily announced his presence from several miles away. For a while, he trailed after the squirrel, until one of his paw pads pressed down on something hard and unpleasant to step on. While the squirrel chattered angrily about losing its snack, Gus, meanwhile, was preoccupied with trying to figure out what it was that his target had dropped. If anything, the pine nut had been splintered into a number of pieces under pressure. It didn't smell like food, the bits of rabbit bones and whatever else Taima managed to rustle up, but it seemed edible, even if nothing particularly propelled him to try it firsthand.
Heaving a sigh, Gus plunked his rear onto the ground, looking longingly up into the willow branches where the squirrel was surely holding a grudge. "Please come down," he softly yipped, unaware of how close he was to Willow Ridge's den and Infirmary. "I just want to play..."
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