Wapun Meadow it isn't about the stuff

Nervously Charles licked his lips as he looked around -- in the completely wrong direction -- and wondered what would happen. Would someone show up to claim this here rock? Would they punish him? He started to pee and there was something really satisfying about claiming this rock. A semblance of control that he had never had in his life. His brothers had torn at his ears and pushed his face into the mud. His mother had loved him for only the briefest times, and then ignored him most days and told him off roughly when he tried to grasp her attention. But this, this rock, this piece of land, this becoming his -- that was real, a real thing, something only he decided. It felt as if he had control over what happened in the world to some degree, and he liked the feeling.

When suddenly someone leaped towards him and shouted loudly Charles let out a pathetic high-pitched shriek of Ah! and he fell backwards immediately, even as he vaguely heard the other say he shouldn't fall. Charles fell back against the rock and into his own piss with his left haunch, and he immediately realised his mistake there. Shit.

Look what you made me do! he shouted with dismayal at the other, who, he realised just a moment later, looked to be around his age.