Redhawk Caldera he who has gas travels at the back of the pack

His mother and his siblings dozed and his father was out hunting. The entrance to the den was unguarded, and the little terror was awake and saw his opportunity. He rose to his paws, glancing around the sleeping bodies as he gingerly stepped around them. He had no grace and certainly never tended to make an effort to lay his paws down carefully or quietly, but in this moment, he was a ninja, and he stalked out of the den and across the 'front lawn' with extreme stealth, turning to glance back with a shit-eating grin as he revelled in this small victory. No one was around to herd him back or pick him up this time, and so he bolted.

His sneakiness was lost as he crashed through the brush like a rutting moose in search of his cow. He had no particular direction; he only wanted to see more than he had been allowed thus far, mostly because he had been forbidden to stray and so that made straying all the more interesting to him. On he went, how far who knows, until a red squirrel spotted him and sounded the alarm. It went through its list of bad words as it sat on a branch above him and called down. Growling, Ferret stared up at him and challenged him down out of tree.

But the squirrel stayed put.

Ferret had utilized the ninja mode quite well, but he had not taken in account the fragility of Pan's sleep. Once his brother was on his way to the den entrance, the runt of the litter had opened his eyes and caught sight of the disappearing sibling. Without a second thought he went after him. 

Though still quite reluctant to leave the den on his own, Pan followed in Ferret's steps boldly, stopping only briefly at the den mouth, when he did not imeadiately see the familiar form. But the sound of movement and loud footfalls led him on the right track - he began to ran. Since at this age the boy was smaller than the rest, it took him longer to arrive at the exact spot, where his brother was pointlessly paying attention to something up in the tree. 

"Eeeep!" he squeaked happily, as he closed the distance between the too and crashed in his brother.

He was utterly focused on the squirrel, and did not take note of his brother's approach until an ear was turned of its own accord by a happy squeak. But it was heard all too late; he had not a moment to move before the smallest of siblings crashed into him. He extricated himself from Peter rather quickly, his hair raised indignantly as he stepped back, his face creased in annoyance until a devilish spark went off inside his scheming little mind. Then, those creases shifted into an impish smile and he waved his black tipped-tail.

The squirrel continued to chatter, but it was old news now. Ferret went to his brother's side and head-butted his shoulder with all the grace of a young goat. Intent on resuming his little trek into the world, he then jerked his muzzle, beckoning Peter to follow along so that he could share in the blame (or take all of it) if the two happened to be caught before they returned home.

Peter did not mind that Ferret took the upper hand. He had already got used to the fact that, whenever it came to play-fights he would be the one to lose, so the very fact that he had managed to take his brother by surprise... for a friction of second was an achievement itself. He grinned at his sibling and then looked up at the small creature in the tree, that was letting out very weird sounds. 

"Wu, wu, wu-u-u-u-u!" he howled at it, but, whether the little animal answered him or not, was never found out, because his brother hit him on the shoulder, making the boy stumble few steps backwards and turn his attention at him. From what he could tell, Ferret had something on his mind and was asking him to follow. "Eeeep!" Peter squeaked in excitement, his tail wagging like a little propeller and him getting to his feet, ready to go, wherever his older brother would lead him.

He lead his brother onward, emboldened to have a follower at his back, and so it was with a raised head and upright tail that he triumphantly swaggered down through the woods. He had no game plan other than to see how far he got, but the world was filled with all manner of new things, and soon he was consumed by distraction. He would wander off his straight bath to sniff at a rock, or a tree, or a rock beside a tree, and then shove his face into the bush as his nose tracked after the hour-old scent of a chipmunk or mouse.

It was not long before the newest distraction was something that moved, and he came to an abrupt halt as a songbird, a small yellowish finch, landed on the ground ahead of them. His lips curled into a devil's grin as he eyed the creature, and he dropped to his belly, prowling forward and expecting his brother to do the same.

While his brother was very interested in his surroundings and busy with playing a leader, Peter was more focused on following him and did not look around much. He wore a happy smile and ambled along, feeling glad that there was something to do. Now and then he would stop and look Ferret's figure that was moving away at a quick pace, hoping to draw his attention, but this did not happen, therefore with another "eep" Peter caught up with the engine. 

When Ferret came to a halt abruptly, the little boy almost crashed in him, stopping himself only mere inch away. His brother plopped down on the belly and began to move in a very odd way. "Uhh?" he formed his confusion in a single syllable. When no answer came, he decided that perhaps this was a game. And with a loud "EEEEEPPPP!" he pounced at his brother and probably scared the bird away.

Ferret was focused on the bird; he had completely tuned out his brother and so was caught completely unawares when Peter pounced at him rather than following his lead. The bird tweeted in alarm and flew off. Irritated, Ferret kicked his brother away in a flurry of paws before he sprang at Peter and chomped down on his ear, growling and grumbling something that could be translated to, "you dummy, you scared the bird away!"

Where others would have fought back, Peter just let his brother take him down and began giggling, when one of his ears were munched on. He tried to wiggle himself free from Ferret's grasp with little success, because the other one was stronger than him, and now and then he would attempt to bat either side of his sibling's head with his forepaws. Again - the attempts were not heartily enough, as if he was just playing along for the sake of fun and pleasing the attacker. All the while he kept laughing, as if being attacked was the greatest thing in the world.

His brother was laughing! Ferret chomped down harder (not really, his jaw strength had much room to develop) but Peter was undeterred and just giggled and batted at his head. The bandit sprang away and stood, miffed and scowling, at his littermate. This was not the reaction he wanted. Unsure of how to handle this, he resorted to the first idea that popped into his tiny brain: he ran away. He took off through the brush and did his best to escape his brother's company.

"Eey," Peter called after the disappearing form of his brother, while rolling to his belly and getting to his feet. "Eey," he squeaked taking the same route, getting tangled in the bushes (for it is considerably harder to get through a tangled mess of twigs and leaves if you are small) and realizing that Ferret was nowhere to be seen, when he got to the other side. He sat down, casting his glance to left and right, trying to find sign of him, but with no luck. And when the realization that he was alone and lost hit him (approximately three minutes later), Peter did the only thing a tiny cub can do on these occasions. He started to cry.

Wrap up? :)

Ferret had not gone far, but he had gone far enough that his bird-busting brother could not find him. This instilled a devilish glee to the child's face, and he swaggered with triumph as he slowed his pace. He could hear his brother cry, but... too bad. By sheer luck only, his aimless wandering caused him to circle about and before he knew it, he was back at the den, sans brother, who was still out in the brush somewhere. Feeling mighty big that his sneaky romp through the woods was not detected, and he had given Peter the slip, Ferret laid down at the front of the den with his legs crossed and his impish eyes glittering as he watched to see if his littermate would find his way back.

ooc: sure - thank you! :)

When children have to cry, they seem to have an infinite amounts of tears. So did Peter, his crying grew both in volume and frequency and big, crocodile tears kept rolling down his cheeks. A while later his nose began to run too. He "eeped" for his brother first and then for anyone around to find him, but with not much luck. The fear had paralyzed him, he did not dare to take any step further or back, being afraid that he would only worsen the situation. Eventually he grew tired and, while still sobbing, he lied down, rolled into a tight ball and squeezed his eyes shut. Perhaps, when he opened them again, he would be back at the den with his siblings.