Without his parents present to whinge on and moan about getting his maths done before going out, Clarence was free do the the exact opposite. He was sixteen now, and in a totally new world - No longer a child on his father's leash, being groomed to be the perfect heir to one of Britain's most successful bank corporations. He didn't give a bloody damn about the company. It could pass to one of his snot-nosed cousins in London or one of his fifty, dim-witted Irish relatives for all he cared. Running a business, especially one as large and chaotic as his father's, seemed like the most dull thing in the world. Clarence often wished that he had siblings, so his parents wouldn't have to dump the future of an entire bank company on his shoulders.
Oh, well. The Summer could think about an escape from such a bland future later. Right now, it was time to enjoy the mild warmth of spring while it lasted. He expected that the blistering heat and nights spent drowning in one's own sweat would be upon them soon, so it was important that Clarence relished the calm before the storm - Or in this case, the calm before the inevitable fiery death that was summertime.
After a few quiet minutes of hopping over fallen trees and observing the budding leaves forming on the branches above, Clarence picked up a clattering noise somewhere nearby. It sounded like sticks. An animal, or perhaps a wayward student? He could faintly pick up the quiver of a large creature's nerves, so it was likely a student. Well, no harm in dropping in for a visit.
Eventually, Clarence pushed through a angle of thick bushes and came upon a familiar face. It was the boy that he'd met on the day he'd arrived at Beata. An array of small twigs and branches lay splayed across the ground near his feet. Clarence raised an eyebrow. What'd been his name? Mitch? Yes, that was it. "Building a nest, are you?"