Stone Circle bibbity boppity boo

whump!

The boy trots excitedly down a lazy river, carrying in his jaws a rather oddly large stick in proportion to his body. It hangs from his teeth's grip to drag on the ground, him bouncing with it as he moves faster and faster over the rocky and unsteady ground. Why he was moving so fast carrying the stick is a mystery to anyone but himself, he was adding it to his collection. Well, he hadn't exactly started the said collection just yet, but! this was the first of many! He thinks of his father and what he lacks there, and his mother who he must compete in competition with his sisters for her attention. Maybe with the biggest things in his possession, he could somehow one-up his siblings. 

Somewhere between hauling the stick, moving faster than his legs could carry him, and letting his mind wander, he doesn't see the impending catastrophe he is yet to suffer. The stick catches caught of a loose vine buried deep beneath the earth's surface, and as he runs he is yanked back forcefully, yelping in pain as a small canine tooth is ripped from his gums and wedged into the wood. From there, it is a downward spiral of unfortunate events, as he then stumbles in shock and trips over his own teeth, rolling and landing in the cold, slow, yet shaky pace of the river as it carries him downstream. He can't breathe and panic floods his mind, instinct driving him to kick so he just barely keeps his head above water. He can't even cry out for help, shocking and utter fear rendering him unable to think about anything but basic survival; to breathe.