FIC: Team Exercise - Primeval Huminal
Title : Team Exercise
Author : verito295
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : G
Characters: Finn, Roger(OC)
Disclaimer : Rogers belongs to me and joereaves. Finn belongs to the gracious fredbassett .
Summary: Tension within a squad can be dangerous
A/N: Takes place about three years before the main Primeval arc of the huminal AU joereaves and I share. Thanks to fredbassett for the great beta job, all remaining mistakes are entirely my fault.
If one could have a bird’s eye view of the Sikhi Mountains in the north of the planet of Inicio they would see several hundreds kilometres of tall granite peaks spreading out across the horizon. Their snow caps stretch nearly halfway down the steep slopes, mingling with the first trees which marked the beginning of the territory of the chowwaata, Inicio’s native version of wild mountain goats.
Further down, the trees would give way to lush fields of knee high grass, where large herds of fat cattle graze peacefully for most of the year. Just below the pastures, the mountains are scattered with small villages clinging to the slopes like practiced acrobats, the houses partially carved in the mountain sides so that the villagers walk into their backyards from doors on the second floor.
Even further down, the slopes unravel into wide valleys with crystal clear streams running through them that even in the middle of the summer give bathers aching headaches if they spent too long in the freezing waters.
Roger Kenstone knew all this because he’d lived in the Sikhi Mountains from the day he was born until the day he had left for Marrakesh at the age of eighteen to trail for acceptance into one of the Fighting Packs. He’d only been back home once in the year that had passed since then, but when he had, his entire village had celebrated with several nights of bonfires, dances and enough food to stuff even his pack mates in the Thirteenth full to the gills if they had been there.
This time though, the young kestrel wasn’t in the mountains for a visit to his family but rather for what Captain Ryan had called a ‘much needed team exercise’. Roger’s squad leader, Lieutenant Lyle had rephrased that as ‘hammering some sense into your thick skulls’ as soon as they had boarded one of the small shuttles used for single squad missions.
Which was the reason the kestrel was currently facing a sheer granite wall, wings beating as fast as he could as the wide straps of the carrying harness bit in to his shoulders. Below him Finn was wriggling constantly in his own harness causing Roger to mutter obscenities his mother would have been appalled to find out he even knew the meaning of.
“Hey Kenstone, can’t you fucking fly in a straight line? I swear I’m going to hurl any moment down here!” The words were followed by more wriggling and for a moment Roger honestly wished he could pull on the quick release strap and let the wolf find out exactly how much of a straight line he could make to the bottom of the valley.
“Not unless you stop moving around like you’re full of fleas. I swear, anyone would think you’d know better than that when it comes to picking bed mates.” Maybe it wasn’t as satisfying as shutting Finn’s mouth for good but after all the wolf wasn’t a bad guy, just the most annoying and promiscuous creature Roger had ever met in his young life.
Unfortunately, the repercussion from his insults was not worth the brief satisfaction at having shut the wolf up for a whole five seconds. “You bloody self righteous bird. Wait till we land and I’m going to show you exactly where you should stick that pointy nose of yours.”
The dark grey wolf started wriggling even more and suddenly Roger felt one of the strong air draughts flowing near the cliff grabbing hold of his right wing just as he was trying to compensate for Finn’s movements.
Flying near a cliff was always a dangerous choice, air draughts tended to follow the rock face upward, giving a burst of speed that was at times sorely needed in their missions but they were often unstable or twisted so quickly that an inexperienced flyer could find himself smashed against the cliffs, if he wasn’t very careful. Roger had trained in the mountains since he had learnt to fly but the combination of over 80 kilos of wriggling wolf affecting his balance and the distraction created by their argument was enough to send the situation quickly spiralling to hell.
The air current jerked the kestrel’s wing back sharply, tearing a soft grunt from the red haired huminal. Suddenly Roger was very glad he had Finn’s weight holding him down or he would have most likely been slammed against the granite wall. Granted, had he not had the annoying wolf on board he would have probably been paying more attention to the draughts and would not have found himself in this situation in the first place.
“For fuck’s sake, Finn, stop moving! You’re going to get us both killed.” Roger fought to angle his wings and body to go with the draught rather than against it and he barely had time to utter a prayer as the wolf finally stood still. Moments later they were riding the updraught and shooting past the top of the cliff at high speed. The kestrel struggled to bring them down gently but as they slipped away from the air current, his wings took back their combined weight and pain shot through his back, making him lose control. They dropped the last few feet to the ground and landed in a heap of tangled limbs.
Roger’s first instinct was to roll into a ball, making himself as small as possible to protect his fragile hollow bones. To his surprise, Finn had gone immediately still, allowing the kestrel to do just that without the risk of further injury.
“Are you alright?” The wolf gingerly pushed himself up as soon as Roger had unbuckled their harnesses and moved a couple of steps away. “All your bones in one piece?” The young huminal carefully finished checking for any cracks or clean breaks the way Ditzy had taught him and shook his head.
“Looks like it.” His wing hurt like hell but he could feel it was just a strained muscle. A couple of days light rest and some anti-inflammatories and he’d be right as rain. Roger looked up, ready to start up their argument from where they had left it now that he was sure he was all in one piece but Finn stopped him short.
“Sorry, bird boy, I shouldn’t have let your jabs get to me out there. We could have come off a hell of a lot worse than we did. You know it’s all fun and everything but we can’t let things go this far on a mission. I don’t know about you, kid, but I’m not planning on getting my tail booted out of the pack or worse, getting one of my pack mates hurt because I’m busy bitching around with you.” The kestrel was speechless. He admitted deep down that arguing with Finn could be entertaining but he’d never thought about the possible repercussions.
The wolf got up from his crouch and offered Roger a hand up as well. “Come on, Kenstone we still have a mission to complete and I really don’t feel like listening to the old devil’s jabs all the way back to Marrakesh if we don’t beat his time.”
Roger let the other huminal haul him up and smiled grimly. “We can make it on foot from here and still beat Kalti’s time. I know a shortcut.”
Finn grinned back and nodded towards their target, a red flag still several kilometres away. “What the hell are we waiting for then, bird boy? Let’s get moving. And don’t worry, I’m not going to let up ribbing on you after today.” The kestrel found his grin widening, he was never going to admit it but he would have probably missed his arguments with Finn.
“That’s good because I’m not planning to stop either, it would be bloody boring if you turned into a nice guy all of a sudden.” The wolf barked a quick laugh and shoved Roger playfully, somehow managing not to jar his wing too much. “Get that feathery arse of yours moving and maybe I’ll even stay away from your cousins when we visit the hole in the mountain you call a home. Well, unless they’re pretty and then all bets are off.”
Roger shock his head and started up the slope at a light jog, wings tightly wrapped around his back to avoid getting caught in any sudden burst of wind. “You are the most shameful creature I’ve ever met, fleabag. Are you going to just stand there and wait for females to flock to you or are you going to get that tail moving?”
Behind him he heard Finn laughing and starting the climb, his feet as sure as his own as they made their way up through the trees and towards their target.
Author : verito295
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : G
Characters: Finn, Roger(OC)
Disclaimer : Rogers belongs to me and joereaves. Finn belongs to the gracious fredbassett .
Summary: Tension within a squad can be dangerous
A/N: Takes place about three years before the main Primeval arc of the huminal AU joereaves and I share. Thanks to fredbassett for the great beta job, all remaining mistakes are entirely my fault.
If one could have a bird’s eye view of the Sikhi Mountains in the north of the planet of Inicio they would see several hundreds kilometres of tall granite peaks spreading out across the horizon. Their snow caps stretch nearly halfway down the steep slopes, mingling with the first trees which marked the beginning of the territory of the chowwaata, Inicio’s native version of wild mountain goats.
Further down, the trees would give way to lush fields of knee high grass, where large herds of fat cattle graze peacefully for most of the year. Just below the pastures, the mountains are scattered with small villages clinging to the slopes like practiced acrobats, the houses partially carved in the mountain sides so that the villagers walk into their backyards from doors on the second floor.
Even further down, the slopes unravel into wide valleys with crystal clear streams running through them that even in the middle of the summer give bathers aching headaches if they spent too long in the freezing waters.
Roger Kenstone knew all this because he’d lived in the Sikhi Mountains from the day he was born until the day he had left for Marrakesh at the age of eighteen to trail for acceptance into one of the Fighting Packs. He’d only been back home once in the year that had passed since then, but when he had, his entire village had celebrated with several nights of bonfires, dances and enough food to stuff even his pack mates in the Thirteenth full to the gills if they had been there.
This time though, the young kestrel wasn’t in the mountains for a visit to his family but rather for what Captain Ryan had called a ‘much needed team exercise’. Roger’s squad leader, Lieutenant Lyle had rephrased that as ‘hammering some sense into your thick skulls’ as soon as they had boarded one of the small shuttles used for single squad missions.
Which was the reason the kestrel was currently facing a sheer granite wall, wings beating as fast as he could as the wide straps of the carrying harness bit in to his shoulders. Below him Finn was wriggling constantly in his own harness causing Roger to mutter obscenities his mother would have been appalled to find out he even knew the meaning of.
“Hey Kenstone, can’t you fucking fly in a straight line? I swear I’m going to hurl any moment down here!” The words were followed by more wriggling and for a moment Roger honestly wished he could pull on the quick release strap and let the wolf find out exactly how much of a straight line he could make to the bottom of the valley.
“Not unless you stop moving around like you’re full of fleas. I swear, anyone would think you’d know better than that when it comes to picking bed mates.” Maybe it wasn’t as satisfying as shutting Finn’s mouth for good but after all the wolf wasn’t a bad guy, just the most annoying and promiscuous creature Roger had ever met in his young life.
Unfortunately, the repercussion from his insults was not worth the brief satisfaction at having shut the wolf up for a whole five seconds. “You bloody self righteous bird. Wait till we land and I’m going to show you exactly where you should stick that pointy nose of yours.”
The dark grey wolf started wriggling even more and suddenly Roger felt one of the strong air draughts flowing near the cliff grabbing hold of his right wing just as he was trying to compensate for Finn’s movements.
Flying near a cliff was always a dangerous choice, air draughts tended to follow the rock face upward, giving a burst of speed that was at times sorely needed in their missions but they were often unstable or twisted so quickly that an inexperienced flyer could find himself smashed against the cliffs, if he wasn’t very careful. Roger had trained in the mountains since he had learnt to fly but the combination of over 80 kilos of wriggling wolf affecting his balance and the distraction created by their argument was enough to send the situation quickly spiralling to hell.
The air current jerked the kestrel’s wing back sharply, tearing a soft grunt from the red haired huminal. Suddenly Roger was very glad he had Finn’s weight holding him down or he would have most likely been slammed against the granite wall. Granted, had he not had the annoying wolf on board he would have probably been paying more attention to the draughts and would not have found himself in this situation in the first place.
“For fuck’s sake, Finn, stop moving! You’re going to get us both killed.” Roger fought to angle his wings and body to go with the draught rather than against it and he barely had time to utter a prayer as the wolf finally stood still. Moments later they were riding the updraught and shooting past the top of the cliff at high speed. The kestrel struggled to bring them down gently but as they slipped away from the air current, his wings took back their combined weight and pain shot through his back, making him lose control. They dropped the last few feet to the ground and landed in a heap of tangled limbs.
Roger’s first instinct was to roll into a ball, making himself as small as possible to protect his fragile hollow bones. To his surprise, Finn had gone immediately still, allowing the kestrel to do just that without the risk of further injury.
“Are you alright?” The wolf gingerly pushed himself up as soon as Roger had unbuckled their harnesses and moved a couple of steps away. “All your bones in one piece?” The young huminal carefully finished checking for any cracks or clean breaks the way Ditzy had taught him and shook his head.
“Looks like it.” His wing hurt like hell but he could feel it was just a strained muscle. A couple of days light rest and some anti-inflammatories and he’d be right as rain. Roger looked up, ready to start up their argument from where they had left it now that he was sure he was all in one piece but Finn stopped him short.
“Sorry, bird boy, I shouldn’t have let your jabs get to me out there. We could have come off a hell of a lot worse than we did. You know it’s all fun and everything but we can’t let things go this far on a mission. I don’t know about you, kid, but I’m not planning on getting my tail booted out of the pack or worse, getting one of my pack mates hurt because I’m busy bitching around with you.” The kestrel was speechless. He admitted deep down that arguing with Finn could be entertaining but he’d never thought about the possible repercussions.
The wolf got up from his crouch and offered Roger a hand up as well. “Come on, Kenstone we still have a mission to complete and I really don’t feel like listening to the old devil’s jabs all the way back to Marrakesh if we don’t beat his time.”
Roger let the other huminal haul him up and smiled grimly. “We can make it on foot from here and still beat Kalti’s time. I know a shortcut.”
Finn grinned back and nodded towards their target, a red flag still several kilometres away. “What the hell are we waiting for then, bird boy? Let’s get moving. And don’t worry, I’m not going to let up ribbing on you after today.” The kestrel found his grin widening, he was never going to admit it but he would have probably missed his arguments with Finn.
“That’s good because I’m not planning to stop either, it would be bloody boring if you turned into a nice guy all of a sudden.” The wolf barked a quick laugh and shoved Roger playfully, somehow managing not to jar his wing too much. “Get that feathery arse of yours moving and maybe I’ll even stay away from your cousins when we visit the hole in the mountain you call a home. Well, unless they’re pretty and then all bets are off.”
Roger shock his head and started up the slope at a light jog, wings tightly wrapped around his back to avoid getting caught in any sudden burst of wind. “You are the most shameful creature I’ve ever met, fleabag. Are you going to just stand there and wait for females to flock to you or are you going to get that tail moving?”
Behind him he heard Finn laughing and starting the climb, his feet as sure as his own as they made their way up through the trees and towards their target.