Swiftcurrent Creek Pupsitting does not mean pup-sitting

unlike his sister, buckthorn wasn't overly enthused by the idea of this game. what he did appreciate though was the excuse to get out of his guardian's eyesight. he'd grabbed his stick, and he'd ran. he'd jogged off a decent ways so that not even the counting of those doing the seeking could be heard. 

alone and without any company, buckthorn wedged himself in a hollow log and began to once again gnaw upon his stick. and that's exactly where he'd remain until either someone found him, or until he'd devoured enough potential splinters to become a tree himself.