went up the water spout

Whit had not wanted to go.  He hadn't realized that this venture away from the den would be a permanent one.  If he had, he would've been even more disgruntled over it, particularly when the terrain they traversed upon grew rockier and slantier.  The chubby boy was a fan of creature comforts and to leave his bed in the first place was enough to put him in a sour mood.  Now, after however long he'd been forced to walk (and to run even, considering he did NOT want to get left behind regardless of how it seemed his mother tried), Whittier was quite ready to throw one hell of a temper tantrum when finally they did stop.

Fortunately, he was too exhausted for that.  Whit waddled slowly up to his family as his siblings went their separate ways to explore.  His sides trembled as he panted heavily, finally flopping himself down on the ground at Bazi's paws to try and catch his breath.  There were tears in his eyes when he finally pointed his stubby muzzle up to his mother and whined.  "Maaa... firstyyyy," he whimpered pathetically, leaning over to place a few kisses sweetly on her forearm in hopes that it would coax her into taking him to get a drink since he was so very over doing things for himself.