AN: This story is set before the invasion, when Wildwing and Canard are about 17 and in high school. I wanted to play a little bit with how their personalities were before experiencing the trauma of an invasion and seeing their world destroyed, so they may not act quite like what you would expect. This was written as character development so I could better understand their relationship while writing Some Sort of Matter.

Oh, and it's based off something that really happened with my older sister and me! Sometimes, the best inspiration comes from real life.

"Hey, get up." Wildwing's voice prodded Canard from a deep slumber.

"Ungh." Canard rolled onto his side and pulled the blanket over his head.

"Canard! Get up." He became more insistent.

A strong hand gripped the blanket, ripping it off Canard and leaving him exposed to the slightly chilly air of Wildwing's bedroom.

"If we want to hit Crystal Lake before noon, we've got to get going."

Canard glared at the fully dressed, white drake with sleep still muddling his vision. "Give that back."

"Nope." Wildwing crooked an evil smile before tossing the blanket across the room. "Your gear's already packed. Get dressed and we can eat on the way there."

Canard yawned before sitting up. He scratched his head and rubbed his eyes. "It's Turem; we can sleep in."

"Not if we want to go without Nosedive. The minute he finds out we're going for a hike, he's going to want to come too." He moved to where a small pile of clothing lay on the dresser.

"So? Let him." The tan drake swung his legs off the trundle bed and stood, stretching his arms high overhead in an attempt to wake himself.

"He's too noisy. I was hoping we might actually see some wildlife this time." Wildwing tossed the clothes at his friend. "Get dressed; we're leaving in ten minutes." He headed for the door.

The shirt and pants hit Canard squarely in the chest before falling to the floor.

"Can I at least shower first?" he asked as he bent over, picking up clothes he'd sworn he had left at his house from the floor.

"Why?" Wildwing paused, leaning back into the room. "You showered after last night's game and we're going hiking. Do it when we get back." With that, he vanished.

Canard sighed to himself and shook his head. Reluctantly, he began getting dressed.

0000

Canard yawned again before taking a bite of the cranberry almond muffin Wildwing had handed him. They had managed to sneak out of the house before Nosedive was up, ensuring they would enjoy a day to themselves for a change.

Wildwing drove the ancient snow skimmer while Canard occupied the passenger seat. They had both saved up and purchased the vehicle together. Working out who got it when was a little challenging; but, there was no question that it would be parked at the Flashblade residence. It might be traded in for another keg of alcohol if they left it at his place.

"I don't know how you're so chipper this early in the morning." He took another bite of the muffin, savoring the tart flavor.

"I don't know why you're so tired," Wildwing laughed. "I'm the one who played three games in a row yesterday!"

"Yet more proof that I'm the smart one." He watched the white countryside flash past.

They had left the city behind half an hour ago. The flat landscape grew curvier and hillier as they neared the mountains. Before too long, they reached Ganyan National Park. Wildwing parked and poked Canard awake again.

"Come on, sleepy head," he laughed. Walking around to the back of the vehicle, he opened the hatch and retrieved his daypack.

Canard opened his red backpack to see what all Wildwing had stuffed in it. Rope, ice skates, blanket, food, and emergency supplies were all neatly arranged inside. Frowning, he pulled out a shirt and held it up. "I don't remember leaving this at your place."

"You didn't." Wildwing swung his pack onto his back and buckled the support straps in place. "I picked it up this morning."

"You went in my house again?" Canard's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I thought Mom banned you."

"Maybe…" He gave a wide smile, trying to play innocent. Laughing, he continued. "Don't worry, she didn't catch me."

"Drunk?"

"Yeah," Wildwing shook his head. "Passed out in the kitchen. I hid her cigarettes."

Canard tried to hide his laugh. "She's going to know you were there."

"Nah," Wildwing shook his head in denial, "She'll just think she lost them before passing out."

"Whatever. So, Crystal Lake?"

"Yeah."

A sign marking the edge of the trail stood at the far end of the parking lot. Previous hikers left a clear cut path through the snow, leaving a deep indentation for them to follow.

The frozen path wound through an evergreen forest. Snow covered trees towered above them, blocking much of the morning light and keeping the temperature even cooler than in the city. Great drifts huddled against the trunks. Ice encrusted undergrowth shimmered in the filtered light.

Crystal Lake, named for the strange way it always froze completely clear, nestled between two mountains in the Taftan range. It resembled a broad mirror, covering an area half the size of the suburb they lived in. Despite its beauty, the difficulty of the trail and remote location prevented many from venturing out to enjoy the natural wonder.

Canard and Wildwing joked back and forth during their hike, oblivious to the steepness of the twisting trail or the slippery ice covering exposed roots and rocks. This was something they were both accustomed to, having explored the woods with Wildwing's parents since they were young ducklings.

A high pitched, mournful wail echoed through the clear air. It lasted for several seconds before fading into silence.

"Hey, what's that noise?" Canard looked around, trying to figure out where the crying had come from.

"I don't know…" Wildwing stayed still, waiting to see if the sound would come again.

This time, a deep bellow echoed the higher one, signaling two animals nearby.

"I think it was that way." Wildwing left the path and began trekking through the woods, weaving in and out of the undergrowth.

"Wing!" Canard stayed on the path, watching his friend moving off in the distance. "Are you nuts?"

"Come on!" He turned around, beckoning Canard to follow. "Let's find out what it is."

Canard sighed and shook his head. No matter how hard he tried to convince Wildwing otherwise, he knew he'd never stop until his curiosity was satisfied. He stepped up onto the ice crusted snow and followed in the footprints Wildwing had left.

The goalie paused, waiting for Canard to catch up and smiling the whole time. As soon as Canard came into range, he punched him in the shoulder.

"Jerk," Canard laughed, hitting him right back.

"Mucker. You're being too noisy."

"Me?" He placed a hand on his chest, feigning innocence. "You're the one begging me to follow."

"Shut up."

"You."

Wildwing laughed before falling silent and continuing through the forest.

They didn't have far to go before the trees gave way to a steep gully. A bourica cow paced at the edge of the drop off, bugling in distress. She was large, even for a bourica; her shoulders were easily at Wildwing's eye level. Great, curving antlers angled over her back. Bourica could easily defend themselves from even the most determined predator; their sharp, cloven hooves had been known to disembowel bears. The mottled, gray and brown fur provided excellent camouflage for the mountainous region.

"Whoa." Canard stopped and stared, eyes wide.

"Yeah." Wildwing agreed, nodding slowly.

The bourica knelt on her front legs and leaned over the edge before scooting back. A weaker, bleating cry begged for help somewhere below.

"Shit. I think her baby's down there." Wildwing stepped from the safety of the woods and walked towards her, hands low and palms forward, trying to present a nonthreatening appearance.

"Not good." Canard watched his friend's gradual advance, ready to run out and make as much noise as possible if Wildwing needed a quick rescue. A thick branch laying on the ground not too far away would be a good club if he could get to it. For now, he remained motionless, afraid to startle the already distressed creature.

She stopped pacing at the drake's approach and watched him, nostrils flaring wide, her hot breath misting in the frigid air. When he was within arm's reach, she backed away several steps to keep distance between them. As if sensing his willingness to help, she stopped crying and calmed down.

Wildwing knelt next to a rock and used it to brace himself as he leaned over the edge to see what was down there. He turned back towards the forest and waved Canard over.

Canard followed in his footsteps, keeping a wary eye on the bourica. When he reached the edge of the gully, he found exactly what had the cow so upset.

A knobby kneed calf lay sprawled on a ledge several havan down. Ice and snow covered the steep, rocky ground, making ascent impossible. It was too far for even an adult bourica to jump to the top and too much movement would result in sliding even further down the boulder strewn ravine. Miraculously, the calf appeared to be in good health and hadn't broken any bones in the fall.

Canard slid the pack from his back and began digging for the rope and ice picks Wildwing had packed. Wildwing copied his motions and they soon had all the supplies they needed for the rescue available.

"Alright. How we going to do this?" Canard began knotting an adjustable harness from his length of rope while Wildwing hitched a rope to a nearby tree. "You going down or me? You're lighter."

"You. You're the better climber," he said with a negating shake of his head. "If it starts to kick or struggle, you'll be able to handle it."

"You're better with knots. Whatever we use to haul it out has to hold." He didn't want to think of what would happen if the calf slipped from the ropes and fell to the bottom.

Wildwing blew out a sigh as he looked over the ledge again.

"And I'm stronger," Canard added.

"Fine." Wildwing took the harness Canard had already started and stepped into it after double checking the knots. He tied the last few knots to secure himself to the makeshift sling and hooked his carabiner to the rope. An extra length of rope was looped across his chest so he could knot it around the fallen calf on the fly.

Canard checked on the mother again, making sure to be aware of any problems she might cause. He prayed to Yalda she wouldn't decide to charge him while Wildwing was descending or, worse, ascending with a calf in tow.

She flicked an ear towards him and shook her head, but remained in place.

"Ready?" Wildwing checked all of the ropes and knots again, even going as far as to inspect the belay harness Canard had tied around himself.

Canard found a good place to sit and braced his boots against a sizable outcropping. "You ready?"

"Here goes." Wildwing took a deep breath and climbed over the ledge.

Canard kept hold of the rope and slowly lowered his friend, stopping when he felt the slack as Wildwing reached the ledge. As badly as he wanted to watch what Wildwing was doing, he stayed put for both of their safety. It wouldn't do them any good if he toppled over the edge too.

After an eternity, he felt the tug signaling Wildwing's readiness to return to the top. The bourica calf added surprisingly little weight. He grunted as he hauled on the rope, helping them the best he could.

Soon, Wildwing's arm braced on the ledge and the furry, brown face of a three day old calf appeared.

"Hah!" Canard couldn't help but smile and laugh at how confused the long faced creature looked. A little more effort on both duck's parts and it was safely away from the ledge. As soon as both Wildwing and the bourica were on firm ground, he ran over and helped untie the harness Wildwing had built.

The ropes fell to the ground and the baby hobbled to its mother on unsteady legs. Bellowing gently, she stepped towards the calf and sniffed it, licking its flank and nudging it away from them. She turned her massive, antlered head towards the drakes and snorted softly before walking away. Baby followed, gaining confidence and strength with each step. They vanished into the forest.

"Wow." Wildwing sat down, one elbow propped on his knee and holding himself up with the other hand. "We just saved a baby bourica."

"Yeah." Canard gave his friend a huge smile. "Too bad we didn't bring a camera."

"You know, Nosedive could have taken pictures if we'd brought him."

"And you insisted on leaving him behind. Some brother you are." Canard threw a handful of snow at Wildwing, who raised a hand to keep it from hitting him in the face.

"He'll never believe us."

"So? We know." He sank to the ground as well and fell back, arms spread wide in the snow. It felt good to give his muscles a break after that strenuous exertion.

"Yeah, we do." They lapsed into silence for a minute, resting and thinking about how close they had just come to a wild animal that few ever saw in its natural habitat. "Ready to hit the lake?"

Canard groaned and continued to stare at the sky. "Where do you get your energy?"