It was a windy afternoon, which Peter had spent sleeping, feeling tired after the long morning of eating breakfast diligently and then hours of playing with his brothers. Usually his sleep was deep and he rarely heard or felt anything around him, therefore it was unusual, when a light touch of something landing on his muzzle woke him. His eyes flickered open, staring at the flat object (which was a leaf of a tree) in wonder and then let out a mighty: "Achoo!"
The force of his sneeze blew the leave few feet away. Though still small, the instinct to chase anything that moved away from him was there and guided him now. Peter got to his feet, focused his gaze on the leaf and made a leap for it. And... did not get it, because at the same time the wind picked up his prey and blew it away from him. "Rawrff!" Peter barked and went after it.
Rescue as requested! I don't mind short threads by the way. In fact I generally gravitate toward them ^_^;
Ferret watched his brother through narrowed, predatory eyes as he chased after a leaf, one of the few to survive the locust storm, probably because it was already dead (or so imagines Kris). His legs were folded, but soon unfurled as the devil rose to his paws, spotting yet another opportunity to assert himself as the resident pain in the ass. Ferret shot forward into a sprint as he made to intercept his brother, determined to snatch the leaf out from in front of him.
ooc: cool with me! And thank you for rescuing this one - otherwise it got lonely, sitting at the bottom of the forum for three weeks.
The wind lost interest in the leaf eventually and much to Peter's joy, it dropped on the ground. With a little pounce, he pressed the flat object to the ground with his forepaws, leaned down to sniff it and then looked around to see, if anyone had seen his little victory.
Someone had, indeed. Though the little boy was quite slow to grasp other things, spotting Ferret had become one of his special sense. He also knew, what would happen, if he let his brother come too near - the memory of, what had happened the last time, still vivid. Therefore he grabbed the leaf and made a head start.
I would have joined sooner if I had noticed oops lol.
Drat! His brother was on to him and grabbed the leaf before he could. Ferret was rarely deterred and it was no exception this time. His broad paws beat after his brother in audible thuds, for he was often not light on his feet despite being rather limber and seldom made an effort to be quiet. Though he was still growing into himself, already his body was showing its snakiness, with a long spine and long legs. He gained on Peter quickly, snapping at the boy's tail as he repeatedly tried to grab it to haul the runaway back or stop him.
Of course, Peter's stubby legs couldn't carry him as fast as his brother's longer one's did, therefore it was no wonder that Ferret soon caught up with him and tried to grab his tail. The cub tucked it between his legs and sped up, holding onto that leaf for his dear life. He did not want to have his toy taken away and the more he thought about it, the more protective he grew over it.
Therefore with a warning growl he took a sudden turn to the left and continued to run at full speed, until his path went down a rather steep slope. He lost balance and began tumbling down.
Ferret woofed after his brother, spurred by the tucked tail and Peter's efforts to escape. It was futile, the bandit knew he would be able to catch his brother, but the runt made a sudden turn and a heartbeat later had abruptly dropped out of sight. Ferret piled on to the brakes, his paws scuffing the earth as he skidded to a halt. Jaw hanging and tongue lolling, he peered down the bank and watched as Peter tumbled down the embankment.
Peter tumbled down the slope like a small boulder and his fall came to a halt, when his body hit a massive tree that had happened to be in his way. There was silence for a long time, while the little boy lied there unmoving and a painful whine followed every time he exhaled. With his head feeling heavy and spinning, the cub got to a sitting position and swaying with a slighlty disoriented eyes looked around. There was a bit of blood trickling from his nostrils and, when the "itch" was not bearable anymore, the boy sneezed.
Ferret's first response to his brother's misfortune was to cackle, his insensitive laughter rolling down the bank after Peter. This was nothing unusual for the bandit, who had laughed when his father hopped about on a hurting leg, guffawed when Peter was choking, and thought his mother's eye injury was cool. Not even his brother's pained whine could quell his amusement.
For a moment, the reason for the chase had been forgotten, but spotting a leaf there in front of him, Ferret snatched it. He hoisted his head aloft, the black tip of his tail waving high as he gloated in this victory, certain that this was the leaf his brother had tried to speed away from him. He paraded his trophy atop the bank back and forth, grinning down at Peter as the poor boy looked about himself and sneezed.
The world swam around Peter and therefore after the third failed attempt to get to his feet, he remained sitting, his gaze darting frantically from his surroundings, to the sky and back to the ground. It was hard to draw distinction between these three dimensions, because they kept whirling and blurring together.
"Argh..." he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and sneezing again, because his nose was still bleeding. He then lifted his gaze to see his brother running back and forth on the bank. The motion seemed so nauseating to watch, that the poor boy sank to his belly and hid aching head underneath his paws. "Arghhh..." he sighed again.
He continued to grin down at his brother, but his amusement began to wane as he watched Peter struggle to get to his feet and listened to him groan. When his brother slid to his belly and covered his head, groaning again, the bandit's fiendish grin fell into a hard line. There was nothing entertaining about his littermate's behavior anymore; it was actually disconcerting.
Ferret picked his way down the bank, sliding, skidding and scrabbling down in an elegant manner that almost looked skillful by the way he kept his feet despite the awkwardness of his descent. Reaching Peter, he jabbed his poor brother with his paw several times in a series of rough pokes to the ribs.
It was a rare sight to see Ferret express any form of compassion, even if it was in a form of rough poking in the ribs. Peter looked up to his brother's oddly distorted face and for a moment a sheer horror crossed the boy's expression, because instead of one Ferret, there had been at least four.
"Owwww..." he didn't even try to suppress a pitiful wail, when another wave of pain went through his head, he burried his muzzle under his forepaws again and cried - he was neither brave, nor tough and he was not ashamed to show it now.
It took at least another fifteen, twenty minutes before the boy was fit and ready to get up to his wobbly feet. The instinctive attempt to shake his coat, ended up with him falling over, where he - lying on his back - decided to stay for time being, casting a glance at Ferret as if saying: "Shit happens."
If patience were liquid, he only had enough to fill a small cup, at least when it came to matters such as these, and that was being generous. If nothing else, that cup was full of holes and prone to sprouting more without warning. That he had managed to sit beside his mournful brother for more than five minutes was impressive, that he managed an additional ten or so was somewhat miraculous. But by then, that cup was bone dry, and his flattened ears and scowl were threatening to become permanent.
His brother got up, and Ferret sprang to his paws. Finally! ...but down went Peter again. Ferret sucked in a breath and expelled it in a great huff. That was enough of that. He scooted over to his brother and hiked a leg. His littermate was going to get the heck up and move or he was going to get pissed on, and with that, the bandit let loose a stream of urine, on course to soak Peter if Peter didn't move.
Peter was not fast enough to get away from the stream of pee that was generously showered over his upper body and face. He let out a surprised yelp and turned his head away, as the warm stream trickled down his neck and left cheek, in to his left ear. He was not sure of what to do and therefore kept lying there with his eyes squeezed shut and his tail tapping against the ground in a manner of surrender.
He then rolled on his belly to get up to his feet and shook his head to get rid of the remaining liquid that was still stuck to his fur around the eyes and the left ear. He sighed and got to his feet again, which seemed a safer thing to do, in case Ferret decided to poop on him too.
It seemed the bandit had added another tool to his toolbox, right along side toe biting. Pissing on his brother had the intended affect; though Peter was not quick about it and ended up with a golden shower, he eventually got to his paws, and stayed there. Ferret looked on, a single nod and a snort expressing his callous approval. The next step was getting back up the bank. Ferret stepped behind his brother and roughly bumped his arse with his snout. "Up," he commanded, bumping him again. "Move it."
Bumping someone, who is already not very stable, on the butt is never a good idea. Therefore, even though Ferret's intentions had been practical, they did not have the desired effect. Peter stumbled forwards and face-planted the ground. Which in his case didn't help much with the head-ache. He yelped again and crawled away from his brother to avoid being shoved again. Thinking that a mere-feet long distance was safe, he sat down and looked pointedly away. He was not going to move, if Ferret tried to push him, and there would be nothing, absolutely nothing he could do about it.
His efforts to goad his brother into moving backfired. Not only did it not work, it caused Peter to completely balk at the idea. He crawled off and looked away. Ferret gripped the soil with this nails, drawing in a tense breath as he glowered at Peter. He was done. He had tried, and his bucket of patience was completely empty. With a snort, the bandit turned away, and kicked soil back toward his sibling with his hind paws, before he started up the bank on his own. Upon reaching the top, he would head back home, with or without his snivelling brother.
Ferret was not the person you could play waiting games with. He grew bored and after throwing a pawful of dirt in Peter's direction, the other cub stalked away, leaving the boy entirely alone.
He waited for a little longer, looking around and listening. He let out some cries, but that made his headache worse, therefore he let out a sigh of resignation, closed his eyes and slept. Someone would find him and bring him home eventually. They always did.