Disclaimer: It is not mine. So sad.

Jaynesdinglberries presents: Pent Up

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Shr'k was in a rage; there was no other word for it. He felt as if there was a fire deep inside his belly that would not desist, an urge to find Thr'kyo'te and rip him apart. But to the other Yautja he showed his stoic face; he did not roar in his anger, nor did he tear into the others as a sign of his frustration.

Instead he stood stiffly in full Awu'asa at the observation portal a few rooms away from the Bridge, his mask slung on his belt, staring at the stars as they sped by; the constant tapping of his claws the only sign of his mood. And for those who knew him well they understood that it was a last ditch effort to keep from exploding. He reserved his wrath for those that deserved it, in that way he was different from his sire.

The Warrior Hr'ta found him there, late in the ship's cycle.

"Glare at the pane anymore and it will combust, Mei'hswei; we will all die from an air leak." He said in a wry click, not at all afraid of the large Yautja's temper and certainly not concerned with how informal he had been in calling Shr'k brother. They had been fast companions since puphood, working their way through the harsh hunter training and later they became Young Bloods together on the same Kainde Amedha Chiva. Hr'ta of all the others understood what Shr'k was feeling now.

If it had been his sister who had been raped and beaten by a Bad Blood then he didn't doubt he would be raging like Shr'k was now; with the exception that he had never had the self-control that the bigger Yautja possessed and would've likely been restrained to prevent damage to the DropShip until it landed and they were ready to hunt the Bad Blood.

Shr'k grunted; but kept staring out of the clear pane, seeing Ig'Nya's battered face and then imagining his hands choking the life out of Thr'kyo'te's puny body before mutilating it. The tapping of his claws on the sill increased in tempo and a low, threatening growl came from deep within his chest. He, like all the males in his kin-clan adored the only female pup that his mother bore before she died.

Hr'ta hadn't expected a reply, but he continued anyway with the knowledge that he could handle most anything Shr'k could throw at him if need came; "The gkinmaru (ship's scanners) are reading signs of his ship's passing; he is near. On the Pyode Amedha world."

This elicited a response.

"How long?" Shr'k growled out, his lower mandibles clicking with an almost tender gentleness; again Hr'ta marveled at the breadth of his control, he seemed so unaffected but his scent belied his true emotions. There was an eagerness to hunt, an obsessively vicious eagerness. And the anger, which had become a part of his personal scent for the last three months.

"Five to seven hours, depending on the local weather conditions." Hr'ta supplied, then shivered lightly, hid upper mandibles clacking unhappily. "Speaking of weather, it's freezing in here or didn't you notice?"

"I am warm," Shr'k hissed, annoyed by his old friend's chatter; but he spoke truthfully. His anger warmed him from inside and the chill of the observation deck didn't seep away enough of it.

At the hiss Hr'ta felt silent and leaned against the wall with a suppressed sigh. There was the sound he'd been waiting for. That particular hiss signaled that Shr'k was ready now. His aggression had been pent up for far too long; it was time to release some. So Hr'ta did the one thing he knew guaranteed to make his friend better: he hit him hard across the back of his high domed head where his waist-length locks and uppermost cranial ridge connected.

The force of the hit sent Shr'k reeling into the window portal face-first; Hr'ta would have laughed at the picture Shr'k made with his mandibles all smashed flat into the window if he didn't know what was about to happen.

Shr'k came up fast with a roar, his fist swinging.

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Shr'k felt much better, he decided after leaving the observation room an hour and a half later; his hands were speckled with light flecks of florescent green. He wasn't concerned for Hr'ta's health though. His old friend had been through much worse in training bouts.

The low groans behind him made him turn around and look through the doorway; he smiled to see Hr'ta sitting up, his lower left mandible hanging a bit loosely.

"Pauk-de," he mumbled with a wince.

"What are you complaining about, Mei'hswei? It was your idea." Shr'k said almost lightly, glad for the release that fighting gave him. It allowed him to focus his energy on the hunt to come. Then, in a more serious tone, "I thank you."

Hr'ta grinned as best he could, his sore mandible hanging limp, "Welcomb."

Sar'k snorted and clicked in amusement; "Go to the medics, get that fixed. We can't have glib Hr'ta speaking like he had too much C'ntlip today!"

"An' fwere fwill you be?" Hr'ta wheezed as he levered his three hundred pound body up from the grated floors with a cracking groan.

"Elder Dr'ne'dya asked that I stand with him when we begin to land, " Shr'k said, and his eyes hardened at the thought of his sire, gray tinged and tall. This was not going to be easy. He sighed forcefully, readjusted his mask on his belt and started towards the Bridge where he could hear Dr'ne'dya roaring out orders.

Where Shr'k had internalized his anger about Thr'kyo'te's attack on Ig'Nya. Their father had let it burst from him like a volcano to scorch anyone in its path. Waiting in the Bridge was going to be difficult, and not just because the Warrior males in Shr'k's kin-clan had difficulties making nice with one another.

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A/N Reviews please! They are like truffles, always a good thing to have!

Names:

Shr'kShrek

Thr'kyo'teTherk yo ta

Hr'taHurta

Ig'NyaEeg niya

Mei'hsweiMay sway

Dr'ne'dyaDer nay deeya