O'Neill tried to stretch but thought all his muscles had seized. Everything hurt and the
things that didn't hurt ached and the things that didn't ache were stiff. And if he moved
he'd realize just how cold and wet he was. This was supposed to be a sort of vacation.
He gritted his teeth so he wouldn't groan like an old man and found his feet.
"I miss my wake up call?"
"No reason to, sir. The rain hasn't stopped although I think it's not as heavy."
After they ate one of the other sandwiches for breakfast and drank a can of ice tea O'Neill took a few of the larger empty plastic bags and held them out in the rain until they were filled. These should provide adequate drinking water until the cavalry arrived.
The rain now was sporadic and O'Neill thought he should venture down to the beach to see if any more supplies had washed ashore. Before he had a chance to climb down the embankment the sun came out. He longed to shed his sodden uniform but had nothing to replace it with. If Carter weren't here he would have shed it in a minute. He did grab her discarded jacket and pants hanging them from a branch in the sun.
He was looking intently at the churning surf, walking amid the unusual shell washed up on the shore, when he heard the chittering sound. There were some bird like animals with a scaly brown mottled skin rustling around the remains of shallow turtle's nest. One of them ran, from a morsel it was eating at the shoreline, as O'Neill approached to pick up two bags of raft debris. It seemed to him that it ran with a stride akin to a road runner. He walked up the beach and slowly neared a group of the creatures as they pecked at a clutch of eggs; they scattered but cautiously returned as he held still. He bent down to touch one and they scattered again. As he straightened he felt one peck at his boot. They returned slowly, so very curious. From behind him with the talons of their hind legs extended one jumped at his leg, another at his arm.
"Son of a Bitch"
He drew his side arm and another lunged at his back. He shot two of them. The rest of the pack tore in to the fallen members and ripped them to pieces.
Carter heard him swear and the gun shots almost simultaneously and hobbled to the mouth of the cave P-90 in hand. O'Neill was returning from the beach watching his 6 as he came.
"We are not alone here and I don't think the natives are friendly."
Carter looked confused.
"They're kind of cute but mean as snakes."
"Who sir?"
"The birds. Flightless birds I hope."
Then she saw the slashes in his uniform. The cloth torn but skin for the most part intact. The tiny raptor that struck his back managed to draw blood but the scratch was superficial.
SG1SG1SG1SG1
O'Neill had scored big time at the beach, it was almost worth the encounter with his little featherless friends. The packages he managed to hold on to while shooting the attack chickens had Carter's dry clothes and some MRE. So he and Carter finished up the lunch remains and felt full for the first time since the storm washed them away. But first he gave Carter the fresh dry clothes. Primarily because they would never fit him, and a pink tank top was just not him and secondarily, so he could have the clothes, his clothes that she was wearing. They managed to do the clothes swap with minimum of embarrassment. Carter did manage to clean and bandage the cut on his back. They thanked Teal'c for his hearty appetite while downing sandwiches, fruit, and bottled water.
They were well sated when the radio crackled to life. It was the SGC with plan for tomorrows rescue. They were just awaiting the arrival of two more Zodiac crafts. O'Neill apprised them of the creatures he had encountered and warned them to bring suitable armament.
"I miss my wake up call?"
"No reason to, sir. The rain hasn't stopped although I think it's not as heavy."
After they ate one of the other sandwiches for breakfast and drank a can of ice tea O'Neill took a few of the larger empty plastic bags and held them out in the rain until they were filled. These should provide adequate drinking water until the cavalry arrived.
The rain now was sporadic and O'Neill thought he should venture down to the beach to see if any more supplies had washed ashore. Before he had a chance to climb down the embankment the sun came out. He longed to shed his sodden uniform but had nothing to replace it with. If Carter weren't here he would have shed it in a minute. He did grab her discarded jacket and pants hanging them from a branch in the sun.
He was looking intently at the churning surf, walking amid the unusual shell washed up on the shore, when he heard the chittering sound. There were some bird like animals with a scaly brown mottled skin rustling around the remains of shallow turtle's nest. One of them ran, from a morsel it was eating at the shoreline, as O'Neill approached to pick up two bags of raft debris. It seemed to him that it ran with a stride akin to a road runner. He walked up the beach and slowly neared a group of the creatures as they pecked at a clutch of eggs; they scattered but cautiously returned as he held still. He bent down to touch one and they scattered again. As he straightened he felt one peck at his boot. They returned slowly, so very curious. From behind him with the talons of their hind legs extended one jumped at his leg, another at his arm.
"Son of a Bitch"
He drew his side arm and another lunged at his back. He shot two of them. The rest of the pack tore in to the fallen members and ripped them to pieces.
Carter heard him swear and the gun shots almost simultaneously and hobbled to the mouth of the cave P-90 in hand. O'Neill was returning from the beach watching his 6 as he came.
"We are not alone here and I don't think the natives are friendly."
Carter looked confused.
"They're kind of cute but mean as snakes."
"Who sir?"
"The birds. Flightless birds I hope."
Then she saw the slashes in his uniform. The cloth torn but skin for the most part intact. The tiny raptor that struck his back managed to draw blood but the scratch was superficial.
SG1SG1SG1SG1
O'Neill had scored big time at the beach, it was almost worth the encounter with his little featherless friends. The packages he managed to hold on to while shooting the attack chickens had Carter's dry clothes and some MRE. So he and Carter finished up the lunch remains and felt full for the first time since the storm washed them away. But first he gave Carter the fresh dry clothes. Primarily because they would never fit him, and a pink tank top was just not him and secondarily, so he could have the clothes, his clothes that she was wearing. They managed to do the clothes swap with minimum of embarrassment. Carter did manage to clean and bandage the cut on his back. They thanked Teal'c for his hearty appetite while downing sandwiches, fruit, and bottled water.
They were well sated when the radio crackled to life. It was the SGC with plan for tomorrows rescue. They were just awaiting the arrival of two more Zodiac crafts. O'Neill apprised them of the creatures he had encountered and warned them to bring suitable armament.