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Mar. 2nd, 2005 02:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsTitle: Bear Baiting
Pairing: Shanks/Ben
Rating: PG
Word Count: 298
The stench hit him about a minute before its carrier entered the campsite - a horrible dense musk that threatened to choke him. Of course it was Shanks. No chance it could be otherwise. “What the hell?!”
The bandanna covering his nose and mouth was worthless. Eyes watering, he glared blurrily at the repugnantly pungent man grinning from across the fire. “Well?” Shanks spread his arms wide and leered at him. “Aren’cha gonna jump me?”
“Why the hell would I want to do that? You reek!”
“Damn. I knew that old guy was fulla shit.”
“Full of something all right. Something that stinks. Now go take a bath.”
“Where? We’re campin’.”
“A stream. I don’t know. But don’t come back ‘til the smell’s gone.”
It was several hours later when Shanks finally made his way back. The sun had just set, and he’d stoked the fire so that it crackled fiercely, holding back the autumn chill. The captain, not quite odor-free but smelling much better, crowded close to it.
“Streams’re frigid this time a year.”
“It’s still your fault if you catch a cold. What the hell was that?”
“Bear bait.”
“Bear bait?”
“Mm. Musk or pheromones or somethin’. Smell’s used for attractin’ a mate.”
“Why would you want to attract a bear? We’re not here on a hunting trip.”
“I know. Figured I’d catch me another kind…one that’s not so furry but just as grumpy. It’s mating season, ya know, and I ain’t been gettin’ any.” Ben ground his teeth as Shanks waggled his eyebrows. The man was simply impossible.
“Fine. Do you promise not to do that ever again?”
A red head nodded solemnly.
The strange noises coming from the tent later attracted a curious skunk. Shanks didn’t get lucky again the remainder of the vacation.
Title: One October Day in Drum
Pairing: Dolton/Chopper
Rating: PG
Word Count: 343
Mid autumn on a winter island meant several feet of snow but the air didn’t yet carry the stinging ice lancets that tore through even the thick hide of his combined form. He’d shifted once the town was out of sight, abandoning his snowshoes. It was much easier to patrol the forests this way, with the advantage of heightened senses. Rumor held the monster was lurking in the area once more.
In the hushed silence of the woods, his ears caught the sharp snap of a branch. No preceding groan, so it hadn’t been brought down by the weight of snow. Scenting the wind, he caught a peculiar, musky odor. It was familiar, but off somehow. Reindeer. But that couldn’t be right. Mating season usually found them far from this side of the island.
“Come on out. I know you’re here.”
One hundred yards away, the heavily furred figure stepped out from behind the tree. He, definitely male from the smell, had a blue nose, and he held his hands warily in front of him. The surprisingly young, high voice was timorous. “P, please don’t shoot me.”
“Don’t worry kid. I’m not going to hurt you.” He walked closer, slowly unzipping his coat. Best to show the confused child what they had in common. “Why are you here?”
“’m not sure. I was too hot and my insides felt funny, but the doctorine said I wasn’t sick. She said to get some air and come back when I felt better. It’s been two weeks and I only feel worse.”
“Did you visit the herds?”
Wrong question. Tears welled in large eyes as the boy nodded. “They…they made me leave. Said I’m not right. A monster.”
His coat landed in a snow bank as he reached out to pat him on the shoulder. “No you’re not. Not any more than I am.” He watched as the reindeer boy caught the scent of his own pheromones.
“C, can…do you think muh, maybe you can help me?”
It really was nice weather for October. “Sure kid.”
Pairing: Shanks/Ben
Rating: PG
Word Count: 298
The stench hit him about a minute before its carrier entered the campsite - a horrible dense musk that threatened to choke him. Of course it was Shanks. No chance it could be otherwise. “What the hell?!”
The bandanna covering his nose and mouth was worthless. Eyes watering, he glared blurrily at the repugnantly pungent man grinning from across the fire. “Well?” Shanks spread his arms wide and leered at him. “Aren’cha gonna jump me?”
“Why the hell would I want to do that? You reek!”
“Damn. I knew that old guy was fulla shit.”
“Full of something all right. Something that stinks. Now go take a bath.”
“Where? We’re campin’.”
“A stream. I don’t know. But don’t come back ‘til the smell’s gone.”
It was several hours later when Shanks finally made his way back. The sun had just set, and he’d stoked the fire so that it crackled fiercely, holding back the autumn chill. The captain, not quite odor-free but smelling much better, crowded close to it.
“Streams’re frigid this time a year.”
“It’s still your fault if you catch a cold. What the hell was that?”
“Bear bait.”
“Bear bait?”
“Mm. Musk or pheromones or somethin’. Smell’s used for attractin’ a mate.”
“Why would you want to attract a bear? We’re not here on a hunting trip.”
“I know. Figured I’d catch me another kind…one that’s not so furry but just as grumpy. It’s mating season, ya know, and I ain’t been gettin’ any.” Ben ground his teeth as Shanks waggled his eyebrows. The man was simply impossible.
“Fine. Do you promise not to do that ever again?”
A red head nodded solemnly.
The strange noises coming from the tent later attracted a curious skunk. Shanks didn’t get lucky again the remainder of the vacation.
Title: One October Day in Drum
Pairing: Dolton/Chopper
Rating: PG
Word Count: 343
Mid autumn on a winter island meant several feet of snow but the air didn’t yet carry the stinging ice lancets that tore through even the thick hide of his combined form. He’d shifted once the town was out of sight, abandoning his snowshoes. It was much easier to patrol the forests this way, with the advantage of heightened senses. Rumor held the monster was lurking in the area once more.
In the hushed silence of the woods, his ears caught the sharp snap of a branch. No preceding groan, so it hadn’t been brought down by the weight of snow. Scenting the wind, he caught a peculiar, musky odor. It was familiar, but off somehow. Reindeer. But that couldn’t be right. Mating season usually found them far from this side of the island.
“Come on out. I know you’re here.”
One hundred yards away, the heavily furred figure stepped out from behind the tree. He, definitely male from the smell, had a blue nose, and he held his hands warily in front of him. The surprisingly young, high voice was timorous. “P, please don’t shoot me.”
“Don’t worry kid. I’m not going to hurt you.” He walked closer, slowly unzipping his coat. Best to show the confused child what they had in common. “Why are you here?”
“’m not sure. I was too hot and my insides felt funny, but the doctorine said I wasn’t sick. She said to get some air and come back when I felt better. It’s been two weeks and I only feel worse.”
“Did you visit the herds?”
Wrong question. Tears welled in large eyes as the boy nodded. “They…they made me leave. Said I’m not right. A monster.”
His coat landed in a snow bank as he reached out to pat him on the shoulder. “No you’re not. Not any more than I am.” He watched as the reindeer boy caught the scent of his own pheromones.
“C, can…do you think muh, maybe you can help me?”
It really was nice weather for October. “Sure kid.”
