Buck did spend the first few years of his life aboveground, though the memory of it was largely a distant blur by now. Up there, life was... a whole lot less eventful, for sure. Boring would be one way to put it. Buck really was the right kind of person to end up in this lush subterranean land of danger and adventure. Trying to survive in the hidden world of dinosaurs was an exciting endeavor even with his lack of experience back then, and he never quite got along with his acquaintances back on the surface, anyway. But he didn't expect the depths of alienation he was yet to experience.

The giant prehistoric reptiles conferred with each other in a way distinct from any animal he'd ever met on the surface. The weasel could hardly comprehend a thing, and even if he managed to strike up some semblance of communication, the beasts tended to be indifferent at best and outright hostile at worst. Or maybe the other way around, it was hard to say. It seemed the dinosaurs found each other's company more than sufficient, and deemed the outsider mammal to be a wholly unnecessary addition. Or something to that effect. It's not like they'd care to explain themselves in detail.

Once he familiarized himself with his general surroundings well enough to go a week or more without fearing for his life, he set off in search of more lofty achievements. He found his way through thorny jungles, rocky labyrinths, and hunting grounds of vicious predators. Other obstacles, such as the vast lava lake or the dark abyss filled with poisonous gasses, proved to be more uniformly impenetrable. In time, he'd surely find his way past those too, but he had to throw in the towel for the time being. If Buck had to guess, he had roughly half of the dinosaur world all mapped out in his mind by now. The place was far vaster than he ever imagined a cavernous system to be, but it still had its limits. A pterosaur could probably fly from one end to the other in less than a day. Even with the increased familiarity, the dinosaur world did not cease to keep Buck mentally engaged, and the weasel hoped it'd stay that way.

He figured out which plants he could eat, and which plants would rather try to eat him instead. The one thing he found himself craving was a little more depth to it all. Back on the surface, actually having to do things was more of a deviation from the norm, but one thing he remembered was a whole lot of storytelling. In a world that at times seemed to be composed of nothing but snow, social interaction was the main tool his fellow creatures had to keep themselves from going insane. Down here, Buck had an abundance of just about everything but that. With no one around to bounce his thoughts off of, his internal monologues swam around in his head, fermenting and germinating, until one day he heard his own hand talking to him. Saw it, too. Granted, it didn't look much different from pantomime, but the action appeared to be entirely autonomous. He didn't actively think up any of the newly spoken words before he heard them being said. That was... a welcome development. Buck was never the one to shy away from taking things in stride. Continuing along this path, Buck went on to strike up conversations with local vegetation and the like, and some of them proved to be more talkative than most inert objects. With the plants all inhabiting different places, and generally not always occupying the same place as he did, Buck found their points of view even more refreshingly diverse.

And yet... as it went on, it started to become painfully apparent that none of his interlocutors could ever really surprise him. Some of them had wildly different opinions and personalities from Buckminster the weasel, but that only went so far. It's not as if they ever did much of note without Buck around. It wasn't always a problem. When sneaking past a carnivorous creature, it was great to have a companion whose voice no one else seemed to hear. Plus, he could always rely on his friends to be found exactly where he left them. It was never this simple with creatures more widely understood as sapient. One time, he thought he almost befriended a stegosaurus. The beast tolerated his presence more than usual, and made vaguely interested-sounding noises in response to being spoken to. The weasel hung around him for a good part of the afternoon, until the creature laid down to rest. Satisfied with the state of things, Buck fell asleep nearby, and never saw this particular dinosaur again.

Reptiles are an antisocial bunch, Buck's grandfather said one day. Said elderly weasel was never known for being a fountain of wisdom, but now that Buck was down here, his ancestor's offhand remark rang painfully true.

There was one reaction other than indifference he could consistently get from dinosaurs, one that also left much to be desired. After all, he might get lonely and restless now and then, but that was no match for his desire for survival. And it was his survival that the more proactive of them would put into question. Compared to predators, environmental hazards were a walk in the park. Stay on the beaten path when possible, pay attention to your surroundings, and you won't have to expend much effort to stay alive. Predators, on the other hand, would pursue you wherever you went, and do their best to make your life difficult... to a degree. Even the meanest looking of predators would give up on hunting Buck down fairly quickly, once eluded... and elude them he had to. it was either that or death, but sooner or later, Buck always escaped. His wit, agility and small size made it a near-guarantee, not that it wasn't a chilling experience whenever it happened. But, just like slinking around hostile vegetation or traveling over precarious crevices, it seemed to have no lasting consequence besides honing Buckminster's survival prowess further and further.

That, of course, changed when he met Rudy. It started out mundanely enough... for dinosaur world standards. Just another predator out to get him, only a lot bigger than usual this time. After the giant Baryonyx struck him with a claw and left his right eye in a very unpromising shape, the wave of pain brought some dark thoughts with it. Assuming he'd survive this encounter, was that all he could expect from this land? The only true novelty coming from some of the random events crippling him further and further, until he was forced to choose between certain death and languishing in the emptiest, most boring corners of the cave system?

But the reality, for the first time in a long while, came to be different from anything he would have expected. The sudden hit to his depth perception posed a new challenge, but Buck was nothing if not adaptable. Soon, he was ready to continue braving the dangerous reaches of the dinosaur world. The narrowly survived meeting with the monster wasn't entirely disadvantageous either - the weasel emerged from it with a precious and unique keepsake, which eventually proved to be a surprisingly versatile tool as well. Soon enough, he was attached to the powerful and sturdy Baryonyx tooth enough to keep it by his side at all times, quite notably for a lightweight traveler like him.

It was quite the surprise to find out that someone else was attached to it too. The first couple of times Buck met the albino hunter again, he chalked up to an unfortunate coincidence, but soon enough it became too hard to ignore. He found himself having to spend a lot more time escaping to get some peace and quiet. Rather than losing interest as soon as the weasel was out of sight, the beast just kept on pursuing, seemingly never getting bored. Buck ran as far as he could, rested, then ran some more, but then it'd still be a matter of days before the Baryonyx paid him another visit. Even then, it was hard to believe that it might've all been about Buck specifically. Would the giant beast really get mad enough to devote this much time and effort to hunting one small weasel?

Apparently so. The albino giant frightened more than just tiny mammals, and this provided Buck with outside confirmation... alongside his pursuer's name. Rudy is a vindictive beast, said the dinosaurs in hushed tones. They really did, it wasn't just Buck's communication-starved overactive imagination. The giant reptiles might've been hard to understand, but they were still animals. There was something fundamentally familiar about their ways of talking, and with enough effort, Buck could discern the meaning in their words. He probably would've tried a lot harder to analyze and understand dinosaur language if it wasn't so discouraging, with the beasts seemingly determined to give the small annoying stranger as little attention as possible.

Not like Rudy. Rudy was always out there, ready to track him down. Would the Baryonyx let go if Buck ceased to flaunt his hard-earned pearly white prize, or would he not rest until the weasel was dead? It didn't matter. This predator was a uniquely terrifying threat, for sure, but carrying on with one less eye and nothing of value to show for it was not a price Buck was willing to pay just to get a little extra peace of mind. This was fine. The escaping was tiresome, but just as with other survival skills, Buck found himself getting better at it. Who knows, perhaps one day, with enough skill and knowledge, he would be able to take Rudy on in a fight. It could be one of his long term projects... and for once, having another creature around in the long term seemed like a reliable assumption.

In its own messed up way, it was nice that Rudy cared. Maybe Buck should start stealing people's teeth more often. Then again, this one dinosaur was already a lot to handle... combined with other, more transient but unceasing dangers of living in this world. One of which he was in the middle of right now.