Duck Off

There's a pond near the cabin. In the pond lives an entire dynasty of ducks. Kurda and these ducks go way back. He'd feed them all the time during his exile. So naturally they accepted him as their lord and saviour. Those who were still alive six years later clearly remembered him. Those who'd been born in his time away didn't take long to catch on. Even if he doesn't show up with a bag of birdseed or cracked corn, they still swarm him like Catholics to the Pope.

Mika finds their enthusiasm unnerving. But Kurda loves his ducks and Mika loves Kurda so Mika supposes Mika also loves ducks now. That's just math.

At this present moment, Mika is standing by while Kurda casts handfuls of cracked corn into the water. Kurda holds the bag out to Mika. Mika obediently takes some corn and tosses it towards the ducks. It's an endless source of amusement how they gobble up the offering like they've never been fed in their lives — except for one bossy little hen who's made a habit of looking Mika dead in the eye and turning up her beak. Mika knows without a doubt it's her way of telling him she could take his man if she wanted to. It all comes out of the same bag, but she only ever eats what Kurda gives her.

Whatever. Mika's still the one who gets to go back to the cabin with him when they run out of corn.

Now with that said, she seems to be off her game today. She barely bothers to give Mika the stink eye. She's not even pushing her feathered friends out of the way to be first in Kurda's lunch line. She's just drifting at the back of the flock looking lethargic. A few times she tries to nudge her way into the sea of flapping wings and paddling feet. Each time she's rebuffed by the raucous energy of the others. After the third try she gives up entirely. It doesn't take a veterinarian to notice the way her feathers are sticking up on her left side, clear evidence of an injury she didn't have two days ago.

Mika doesn't bother pointing it out. Kurda's already noticed. His lips are pressed together and his brow is creased with concern.

"Take the feed bag to the far side of the pond. Keep throwing corn. The others will follow you, and I'll make sure she gets a chance to eat in peace." Kurda instructs Mika, grabbing a large handful of corn and passing the rest of the bag off.

Mika does exactly that. Unlike their matriarch, the rest of the ducks don't discriminate. They follow him ravenously, making short work of the trail of corn he leaves in the water. Not a single one of them glances back at the injured one. Now that the coast is clear, she slowly paddles towards Kurda's outstretched hand.

"Sink or swim, right? Bunch of barbarians. Come to think of it, you'd probably feel right at home in Vampire Mountain." Mika informs the flock at large. Then he chuckles darkly to himself. They say vampires are descended from wolves. But there's no real way to prove that. Could very well be ducks.

From over the quackophany, Mika hears Kurda's voice across the pond — "Damn it. I think her wing is broken."

Mika glances over. He doesn't know what to do with that information, other than feel bad for the creature. Almost as bad as he feels for Kurda. From what he can see through the reeds, Kurda's crouched on the shoreline trying to get a better look. He's visibly distraught. If he was any closer he'd be in the water with her.

Mika's focus is quickly pulled back to his side of the pond as he notices a few of the ducks lose interest and start back to the other side. Mika redoubles his corn-throwing efforts to keep them all away from her. It works, although the bag is almost empty. Hopefully Kurda has figured something out by the time Mika runs out of ammunition.

When he estimates there's maybe two handfuls left, he looks back at Kurda, drawing breath to warn him he won't be able to hold back the hordes much longer. For the second time that night, he doesn't bother saying a word. Kurda's all over it. In the minute and a half Mika looked away, Kurda had taken the duck in his arms and swaddled her securely in his favourite blue jacket. At least she still has the energy to hiss at Mika as he approaches. That's a good sign.

"I can't leave her in the pond like this." Kurda insists, eyes plaintive and voice catching in his throat. "The coyotes will get her. I know nature is cruel, but she's totally defenceless. It wouldn't be fair. I just have to keep her safe til her wing heals."

Mika doesn't know why Kurda feels the need to state his case so passionately. After everything they've been through, does Kurda really think Mika's going to draw a hard line at ducks in the house? And isn't this more or less how they ended up with Gracie? That turned out fine.

Mika just shrugs and tucks what's left of the corn bag into his pocket. They're going to need it. He leans in with the intention of reassuring Kurda with a kiss on the cheek. The duck hisses again.

"It's your world, baby. And your cabin. I just live in it." Mika reminds him, taking a step back.

A smile of relief breaks over Kurda's face. As if anything Mika did or said would've stopped him from taking the duck home.

They start the trek back to the cabin. They walk side-by-side, albeit leaving a wider buffer zone between them than usual. Mika doesn't think ducks have teeth, but he really doesn't know duck all about their physiology so he decides not to test his luck.

"So, what will you name her?" Mika asks casually, earning a bemused look from Kurda.

"It'a not as if we're keeping her as a pet. I'm not that crazy." Kurda chuckles. "But I'm open to suggestions."

"Uhh… Gracie Two?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Sorry. I panicked. I didn't think I'd get a vote."

"Of course you get a vote. And I get a veto."

"I'll just delegate this one to you. I trust your judgement." Said Mika with finality.

Kurda lets out a peal of musical laughter at that."Aww, Mika! I didn't know you knew the word delegate. That's a big one for you."

Mika rolls his eyes and risks his safety to lean in to steal a quick kiss. From Kurda, obviously.

The duck issues him another ominous warning. This time it sounds more like a growl than a hiss. Mika didn't know they could make that kind of sound.

There are a lot of things Mika didn't know until he met Kurda. Enough to fill several books. But there's always room for one more.