Whitefish River i know it sucks bein' around me. so does life - don't @ me, don't doubt me

Buzzard was like a pup magnet or something. Seriously, this was like the second one in—one month? three? five?—however long it’s been since Sparky. And this one actually wanted to follow them which was so goddamn baffling. This kid clearly didn’t like them. He’d keep some distance between them, and anytime Buzzard tried to start some chit-chat he’d give them a shit ton of attitude. Like, damn ok, rude. But honestly they probably deserved it. They went out of their way to annoy him a couple times. Ok maybe more than a couple. It was more like every five minutes, and it’s only been a day. Buzzard almost felt sorry for the kid, but hey, this is what he signed up for when he decided to tag along.

Despite the kid being a bit of a thorn in their side, Buzzard had yet to abandon him on someone’s doorstep. It was nice to piss off someone that could talk back for a change. Extra points when that someone can’t beat them to a pulp.

Where was that kid anyway? He probably slipped off when Buzzard was going on and on about some nonsense. Unfortunately for him, they noticed his absence before they walked too far, and they headed back in the direction of their scent.

When they caught up to him, he seemed more angry than before. Buzzard watched his bush assault afar with a grin. There was no way they’d get caught in the cross fire. Once he was finished with his rampage they leaped out of their hiding place.

Ha! You sure showed that bush who’s boss. Buzzard sat by another not-dead one and leaned towards it to whisper, Better watch out man, I think you’re next.