Like father, like son. It seemed bad dreams would plague the young child's mind and rip him away from any hopes of a good night sleep. He shivered at the lip of the den, curled up against himself. Tail tucked, but still flicking as if he were some sort of mad cat. Amber eyes gazing out to the foggy horizon as the sky wept quietly down upon this foresty world. 

He remembered the sensation of falling and hitting water, the feeling of his fur breaking the surface and being submerged in a water tomb of oil black. The tide too strong to fight against and his body too weak with what felt like real fatigue. It entered his lungs and smothered him, wide eyed and thrashing with last bouts of energy he sank. He awoke with a start, everything blurry and he wobbled to his feet nearly toppling over. Not even minding what sibling he trampled in his attempt to grip his own senses, Thomas fell gasping as he crawled his way upward looking to the dark, rainy field.

His nose drippy and his eyes weary, but ears flicking back to catch the soft call of his name, he turned slightly after a moment to catch his tired father looking at him. The grey male seemed worse for wear as well, unbeknownst to Tom that his father had his own bout of bad dreams.

The boy looked away for a moment as if embarrassed by having been caught, as if nightmares were things to be ashamed of and kids his age should just 'deal with them'  and 'get over it' on their own. Thomas was quiet for a moment, carefully thinking over his answer, his bravery depended on it, but lying seemed like such a useless tactic. He was never very good at it. "I had.... a bad dream." He said softly, almost muffling himself as he tucked his head closer against his brown fur.

Amber gaze returned to the foggy outside world, sniffling quietly to himself, he'd caught sight of a rather large puddle a bit of a ways away. If he had been smaller, it could have drowned him and his mind immediately was reliving that terror, fur prickling with dread. "Dad, if you-" A pause as he gathered himself with a mighty gulp. "I think I drowned in it." Pa, I think I died. "Am I dead? Do I look it?" His voice gripped with child-like fear.

It was only a bad dream. You had one too, he'd look back to his father, but the words never spilled from his mouth. Instead he nodded slowly, absently lost in thought. His mind sought to relive those terrifying... sinking... minutes. What felt like a century, could have been less. Dreams distorted time as well as the mind.

Within the deep, black ocean depths, he heard screams.

There was some safety and comfort in his father's words, as if to blanket those thoughts out from view and everything thereafter would be fine. The ball of fear that nestled within his chest had felt like iron, it had helped in sinking him and ripping him away from the sanctity of a peaceful sleep. His ears pinned back after a moment a droplet of water splashed on his nose. "Well, I wish my brain would keep that stuff to itself." Thomas grumbled softly.

He tensed up as Hyperion pulled the small, brown child to him, and relax when he felt the plush fur and warmth. Occasionally looking up as kisses were showered upon his little head. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.

Lets go for a walk. I don't want to wake your brothers this early. Oh, oh yeah. Golden eyes would look back to the sleeping forms of his brothers, and he'd frown internally. All of them seeming peaceful, but there was a touch relief that he hadn't woken any of them up. He was sure he wouldn't hear the end of it. Tom would look back to the gray hellion then, who was also looking to the pile of sleeping pups. "Yeah, okay." His voice soft just in case, wobbling to a stand and stretching out his legs as he plodded quietly from out of the den.

A smile followed that of his father's, a bright little ray of light across the brown boy's face. He was usually if not second to last, then last entirely to rise, all the best pickings already swiped by his brothers. Thomas always had to just make due with what they had leftover. However, this was an exciting new development, until, they came face to face with a babbling creek.

The boy made a face, his lip curling and his paws not willing him any further, water and him were not on good terms at the moment, golden eyes looked to Hyperion and then to the creek a couple times before the large male staggered forward to catch a couple crabs. It didn't take surprisingly long, not as long as fishing did. Crabs seemed to care more for the water soaked mud, then the water itself. Tom could respect that.

The gray male came back, and dropped their catch before him, and Thomas tilted his head curiously. They looked strange with big large claws and mud covered bodies. Mud bugs was probably a better term, mud spiders. The legs were served and the dead crustacean was pushed his way. "You really ate this when you were my age? " The legs still had a twitch to them and the head held the gills and something of a soupy, viscous consistency. The boy jerked back a bit, his lips pressed into a fine line as he side eyed the meal.  "It's still moving, are you sure it's safe to eat? "  He looked back up to his father reluctantly.