LtJG Jocelyn Marshall - Domesticated Servants

[+ Trellis Vondaryan]

* I especially loved the description of cats. 🐈

 

((Trill, Conservationist Camp, Venar Mountain))

 

::Beset upon by a creature with all the fury of a ticked off gopher, Lanta lay on his back being snuffled into a panic attack as the "Graamig" delighted in tasting his rapidly proliferating sweat glands. Attempting to placate, from a safe distance, Jo felt her heart rise up in her throat at the awful connotation that the thing wanted more than just a good investigation of the Trill's jugular.:: 

 

Lanta: Pleeeease get it off before it either bites me open or makes love to my face ::screaming loudly until his mouth was filled with the sticky fur of the animal making further sounds incomprehensible::  mummf flummf hmmf

 

::Neither of which did Jo want to see with her pure and innocent eyes.:: 

 

zh’Aella: Could we? 

 

::Jo shot a look to Sera who was in the midst of gripping her axe, making a chopping motion toward the creature. That didn't strike Jo as a particularly good idea, considering the thing was a little more sprightly than any of them, and Lanta had some decent working organs in his upper chest cavity.::

 

Vahir: Well, you could, but I don’t think Graamig would like it, and if you missed Graamig or she moved, I don’t think Mister Lanta would like it.

 

Marshall: We're working on it, Lanta! Just hold still! Don't secrete any... pheromones if you can help it!

 

zh’Aella: Could one of us distract it, while the others grab it? Maybe pin it to the ground or grab it by the scruff of the neck, like a cat?  

 

Vahir: What’s a cat?

 

::How would one explain a cat to a none-Human without the accompanying billions of archived pictures from twenty-first century Earth?::

 

Marshall: Small animal with sharp pointy claws. Supreme Overlords of Earth and single people. Managed to domesticate Humans millennia ago. Still worshipped as a deity given corporeal form. 

 

::A long snuffle emanated from the creature, attempting to find out just how much sweat a Trill could produce under pressure.::

 

Marshall: How about cooing to it? Give it biscuits? Throw a stick, maybe?

 

zh’Aella: Nice Graamig. ::She said it softly, it was meet by a louder snarl.:: Are you a good Graamig? ::She tried in a sing-song voice.::

 

Vahir: Oh yes, Graamig is very nice, she keeps her pelt nice and sticky.

 

Marshall: With Trill blood?

 

::That was apparently the wrong thing to say as the loud snarling quietened, a sandpaper tongue darting out from Graamig's snout and taking a decidedly elongated lick up the side of the Trill's neck.

 

::However, one among them had the gut and experience to deal with the situation. Their Trill Mountain strode past Sera, his palm extending like an opening umbrella and clamped around Graamig's snout, sealing it shut. She squealed as he hauled her off Lanta's chest by the scruff.

 

::Lanta scrambled back up onto his shaken feet and leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree, gulping down air, eyes darting around, a new lease of life in his system, or so it looked. Jo hid a small chuckle behind her hand. Of course, if that had been her pinned to the floor with a  drooling creature trying to make lots of little creatures with her ear, her feelings would have been very different.::

 

Marshall: You were very nearly papa to some Grammig babies. 

 

zh’Aella: Response

 

Lanta: Well ::Panting:: That … was… fun

 

Vahir: Graamig is harmless. Now, had her husband turned up, that would have been a different story. Vardam makes her...well, let's just say it would have been messy, but you would certainly have survived Mister Lanta.

 

Lanta: Not from where i was laying... ::Some of his [...]sure attitude was drawing back.::  Nothing like a brush with death to make you feel alive

 

::No truer words were spoken. Jo chuckled at the statement, resting her axe on her shoulder.::

 

Marshall: Is that not your life motto by now? Or a tattoo?

 

zh’Aella: Response

 

Vahir: No, you were never in any danger Mister Lanta! ::He gave a roar of laughter:: Graamig eats the bark off trees, not the necks out of Trills! ::He pinned Graamig under his armpit and held up her front leg, showing off her two inch claws.:: You can tell that Graamig is female as her claws are shorter and fatter. Males claws are much longer, five to six inches, and much more slender. Graamig is local, she has been giving the science lads some trouble. They think they may have accidentally disturbed her nest, and caused Vardam to break up with her, or their equivalent of that. ::He released her leg and exposed the side of her neck, and a long scar.:: He gave her that about a week ago, that was when we found her.

 

::A frown descended on Jo's brow, and while the creature had given them a total fright in varying magnitudes, that was just a little heartbreaking. She considered petting Graamig but one flash of the sharp pointy teeth made her think otherwise. She appreciated having fingers.::

 

Lanta: All that over a lovers quarrel?

 

Marshall: Oh dear. You poor thing. Are there no other mates in range? Do they compete?

 

Vahir: Graamig and Vardam are Melg’oona, a species quite common in this region, but highly territorial, so they are the only pair in this area.

 

zh'Aella: Response

 

Lanta: Hope they manage to pair up again after we have moved on

 

::Vahir lowered the sticky mess of fur and snarls to the forest floor. She gave them a quick growling grumble of derision and scampered back off into the line of trees in a flash.::

 

Vahir: Now, where were we? Ah yes, the tree! ::Hojen glanced up at the swaying behemoth.:: Mister Lanta, if you have recovered from Graamig’s advances perhaps you would like to strike the final blow as they say. ::Hojen collected a large triangular wedge and a large sledgehammer off the stump of an old tree and passed it to Lanta:: Place that in the uphill cut, then use this hammer to force it in, that will push the tree and cause it to fall away from us. Just be sure you stand off to the side of the tree, in the off chance if kicks out as it goes down.

 

Lanta: Ok who get to shout timber like they used to shout on Earth

 

Marshall: You do; you're finishing it off. Big, loud, puffy chest! 

 

zh’Aella: Response

 

::Lanta nodded and mentally prepared himself to place in the wedge and then deliver the death blow to the huge tree.  Placing the wedge into where the huge Trill had indicated he gathered his strength and hit the wedge following through the blow and then quickly stepped to the side.::

 

Lanta: Timber! 

 

::The shout was loud and clear, echoing into the distance, bouncing off every tree in their vicinity and then some. With a creaking crack of breaking bark, the gigantic tree fell over, taking several smaller trees down with it, smacking into the ground with a dull thud that vibrated through the ground. Birds fled from nearby treetops to the sky to escape.::

 

Lanta:  So can I have some of that tree to start my new hobby of wood carving? 

 

::The Trill's question was hopeful. The tree would be logged up, probably by them, with some going for analysis and other slices going to Trill carpenters. Jo felt a small puff of pride in her chest at the accomplishment, it was a grand sight to see.::

 

zh’Aella/Vahir: Response

 

::Some branches were still descending, dropping to the floor with a rustle, but other than the infrequent sound, everything else was silent. The singing birds chirping away had ceased, lending an eerie quality to the forest that it hadn't held before. Jo looked at their team, ready to get on with the rest.::

 

Marshall: So, what's - 

 

::She didn't get chance to finish the sentence, as a communication device somewhere on Hojen's massive person dinged.::

 

Bahx: =()= Bahx to Vahir. =()=

 

Vahir: =()= Response? =()=

 

Bahx: =()= Oh, by the body! How-How-How is the team? =()=

 

Vahir: =()= Response? =()=

 

Bahx: =()= Good! Good, good. ::He seemed out of breath.:: Our archaeology team have made it back to camp, sustained some injuries, nothing to worry about, but we are quite concer- =()=

 

::Again, he was interrupted, only this time the noise doing so wasn't coming down the communication line. It was coming from the forest. A deep, low, guttural grumble that rumbled through the air and vibrated at Jo's stomach lining with vigour. Jo glanced behind her into the green and purple coloured tree lining, trying to discern the nature of the noise, watching some of their felled branches move and it definitely wasn't natural.

 

::Down the other end of the comm line, Bahx cleared his throat, having heard the same thing they did.::

 

Bahx: =()= We're concerned the permitter line has failed, so if you could just... make your way back... nice and slowly... Don't try to eat anything! =()=

 

Vahir/zh'Aella/Marshall: Response?