Redhawk Caldera come on over

The concept of being tough and courageous was not known to the young cub, therefore he shamelessly let his anguish known to the world by crying. His vocal cords were unable yet to make the sound go up in decibels, but the tone grew more shrill and ear-piercing with every passing second. The boy had learned so far that this drew attention and that without any effort from his side, someone would help him. 

It had worked every, single time and it worked this time too. Something was done, except this time no one picked him up to return him in the right position. Oh no - the ticklish feeling on the tummy (not entirely unpleasant), made him fall silent and attempt to lift his tiny head to peek over his round belly at the "attacker". "Grumph," he rolled to his side with a grunt, then drew himself to his feet and shook his coat. With this little ritual done, he resumed staring at the stranger, his little tail beginning to wag and then he went down in a play-bow: "Wuuu!"