AN: The Ducks are ducks and ducks are birds. So they get to deal with some very bird related issues! This is just a little drabble fic and some world building. Hope you like!
"Fuck." Wildwing scratched at his arm, releasing downy feathers that had already loosened. An uncomfortable, prickling sensation crawled over his body. Forcing himself out of bed, he squirmed and scratched at his left shoulder on his way to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower.
0000
Nosedive walked into the kitchen to find Wildwing already sitting at the table, an empty, syrup covered plate next to him and a mostly eaten bowl of fruit salad. He was wearing an uncharacteristically baggy t-shirt and loose warm-up pants. The white drake's head rested in his right hand while he wrote out something on a notebook in front of him. He frowned, scratched something out, and then dropped the pen while scowling at it.
"Uh, bro?" Nosedive raised an eyebrow. "Bad night?" This wasn't how Wildwing acted after a bad night. He'd have been silent and moody, which he sort of was, but there wouldn't have been the remains of a sugary breakfast. And Wildwing probably would have been working out, not writing.
Wildwing grunted and ignored Nosedive's question. His gaze lifted from the paper to his brother's and he offered a half-hearted smile before glaring at the paper once more.
"Ooh-kay." Seeing that syrup covered plate made Nosedive think of the whole box of waffles he'd just bought. That sounded like a great breakfast. He opened the freezer and searched for the characteristic yellow box. It wasn't there. Thinking he might have put it in the other freezer by accident, he checked that one and didn't find it again. "You'd better not have," he muttered under his breath as he checked the trash. Sure enough, there was the now empty box.
"Dude! What gives?" He ripped the box from the can and held up the offending evidence.
Wildwing, still not saying a word, straightened and leveled a hard stare at Nosedive. Not breaking eye contact, he raised one arm and pulled a few feathers from it, held them up so Nosedive would be sure to see, and dropped the molted plumage to the floor. Satisfied that his point had been made, he slouched and crossed his arms.
"What are you going to do about it?" the older brother demanded.
Nosedive groaned, all anger deflating. He dropped the box back into the can and grabbed a box of cereal from the cabinet.
"Noooo…" He whined. "Already?"
"Fraid so." Wildwing tapped the end of the pen on the paper, thinking about what to write next.
"Well, that explains why I couldn't stop eating yesterday." Digging through the fridge, he found the milk.
"And means you'll be starting in the next couple days."
"Dude, I don't even want to think about it."
"And then Mallory and then the rest," Wildwing continued, ignoring Nosedive's demands for silence.
"Stop. Please. I want to live the next two days in blessed denial! It isn't even Arpen yet. Seriously, can't we just tell the NHL and all the Anaheim wackos we need a break for Tarem?"
"We tried that last year, remember?" Despite their request for even an abbreviated Tarem— a two week long period back home when almost everything shut down so everyone could molt and not try to kill each other— they had been told that the NHL had already made enough exceptions for their team and they shouldn't push their luck. Growing all new feathers generally took about a week, but not everyone started at exactly the same time. When the NHL had learned this occurred twice a year, they were even more reluctant to approve a hiatus for the Mighty Ducks.
"Ugh!" Nosedive plopped his breakfast on the table and took a few sullen bites. While chewing, he watched Wildwing lazily add a few more things to the paper.
"What's that?" Nosedive asked around a mouthful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
"Grocery list. What's that thing Mallory likes?"
"Inflicting pain and misery?" He grinned.
Wildwing rewarded his humor with a blank expression.
"Yiesh. Lighten up." He shrugged and chewed another bite. "You're going to have to be a little more specific there, bro."
"That Pop Tart thing that isn't Pop Tarts." Some time last year, Mallory had apparently decided all Pop Tarts were evil and he had yet to figure out why. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the disappearance of the toaster oven for a few days.
"Oh! Toaster Strudels. But only the strawberry. So, like, get three boxes of apple."
"Thanks."
"Seriously, what are you doing?"
"I've already canceled practice today and all of the open practices for the next two weeks. After breakfast, I'm going to see what I can do about rescheduling a couple public appearances and that commercial they wanted to film. And this," he pointed to the list, "Is going to Kari to buy everything."
"Yeah," Nosedive laughed. "Or we'll end up with another huge stockpile of junk we couldn't eat in a year." The team still occasionally teased Wildwing for their first molt in Anaheim. He'd gone grocery shopping and had returned with so much food they'd needed a month to work their way through just the potato chips.
"I learn from my mistakes." He continued to glare at the list, as if he expected the necessities to magically appear.
"Aloe?" Nosedive suggested. "Coconut oil?"
Wildwing held up the list and pointed to the top two items.
"At least your brain's still working."
"I just wish we could go somewhere cold until this is over." Wildwing groaned and rested his chin on his folded arms. He absentmindedly scratched at his bicep.
"Yeah, that'd be nice. But I hate traveling during Tarem and I'm pretty sure the others will agree."
"Either way, we've got five away games and none are in Canada." Wildwing stood. "I'm going to go see about canceling those appearances. If you think of anything else, add it to the list." He tossed the pen on the paper and left.
Nosedive stared at the dirty dishes Wildwing didn't even move to touch.
"Dude," Nosedive caught his attention just before Wildwing stepped through the door. "Meet you in our room in about half an hour?"
"Maybe. Why?"
"Allopreening. You seriously need to chill out."
"Yeah, sounds good." Wildwing smiled at him. "Thanks."
Nosedive looked at the dirty dishes again. He'd put them away when he was done with his own breakfast.