"Lucky" Duck

Fable raked her gaze across the sea of dinosaurs that she was semi-reluctantly wading amongst. This was not exactly her idea of a fun time, not with so many others present (certainly not with so many carnotaurus present), but as soon as Salmon and Charter had caught wind of the festival… she knew that she was doomed to accompany them on this outing.

“Come on Fable,” Salmon teased, bumping her mate lightly with her shoulder and drawing Fable from her sullen glaring at the gathered many. “You don’t have to look so miserable, this is going to be fun!”

Fable hummed under her breath. She was still uncertain. The tapejara delivering the news had harped on about food that they did not have to hunt, games that would win them fabulous prizes, and a whole host of dinosaurs that came with the festival demonstrating awe-inspiring talents and skills, with the islanders and Atlanteans that visited being more than welcome to show off their own special skills. 

There was certainly food, at least. The strange, burnt scent of cooked meat and vegetables wafted through the air amongst the scents of many strangers and mildew-y-smelling stuffed animals were likely some of the promised “prizes,” and they had seen several dinosaurs walking by with other “prizes.” Mostly upwalker things, like fabrics and odd trinkets.

Fable’s skills - not that she was keen on showing off to a bunch of strangers - relied more on the presence of water, and she doubted any herbivore in the crowd wanted to see how adept she was at stealth and hunting. Salmon excelled at climbing, but there were not very many trees inside the museum, and she was not sure that was the sort of “talent” that the festival’s ringmaster was really after. Charter would want to participate as well, and he was… not unskilled, just very young.

So they were here for games. It would be good for Charter, Salmon had reasoned, to see so many new faces and open him up to new experiences in the future. The cove would surely survive without her supervision for the one night that they were going to be visiting, especially with so many islanders coming to see what all the fuss was about.

And there were… many islanders. Charter had never seen so many other dinosaurs in one place. He was used to seeing a few others - namely cryos - but there were some that were super unusually shaped. A bunch of dinosaurs with longer front limbs which ended in blunt hooves whose crests curved back and stretched towards their spine rather than curling up towards the sky, absolute giants whose necks stretched towards the ceiling of the building who were adorned with claws as long as he was, behemoths who looked like cryos but were much more thickly built whose smooth crests flanked either side of their face. It was incredible!

And a little overwhelming. He stuck close to his moms as they navigated the crowd, and at one point the pair even paused to allow him to climb onto one of their backs. He settled on Fable’s shoulders, where he could observe everything going on from a much safer, taller position. From up here he did not have to worry about being stepped on nearly as much - and he could see further.

Aside from the dozens of dinosaurs that they wandered amongst, there were odd metal structures. They looked almost like a bird, if the bird’s wings were outstretched and made of one piece rather than many feathers. Some of them even had a second set of wings stacked on top of the first pair, strangely enough. They were colourful enough to be birds, decorated with vibrant hues and long stripes. Most of them were on the ground with games set up between them, but there were a handful which were somehow suspended from the ceiling, hanging in the air as though locked in stationary flight. There was at least one that looked like it had a mouth full of giant, sharp teeth plastered on its snout.

“Anything catch your eye up there?” Salmon asked. She turned her snout up towards Fable’s crest, where Charter had parked himself and was clinging both to her crest and the back of her neck to steady himself as Fable walked. Charter was still quite small so their options would be limited with what they could really participate in, but surely they could find something.

Fable turned her gaze upwards, holding her head steady as Charter looked around. Her heart warmed as a little tension left her. He was a handful most days, but every now and then he calmed down enough to give them a glimpse of the bright young cryo he would grow up to be.

“Ducks!” he chirped excitedly.

Fable and Salmon glanced around. Fable did not see any ducks, though she certainly would not have minded snacking on some waterfowl, present herbivores be damned. Salmon noticed it before she did - another small group of dinosaurs was playing a game fishing small, yellow, duckling-like upwalker trinkets from a shallow bucket of water. The trio headed in that direction. If Charter wanted ducks, he would get ducks.

They patiently waited for the others - a small mixed group of styracosaurs and parasaurs, most of them quite young - to finish their turn. It seemed easy enough from what they picked up on just by observing the herbivores, and something that Charter would be able to participate in without problem. The premise was… extremely simple, as explained to them by the tropeo who was apparently running the game station. Pick up a duck from the pond, pick up another duck. If you picked up two ducks with the same colour of paint on the bottom (paint which was apparently waterproof, courtesy of the Atlanteans), you won a prize. You could pick six ducks in total to win up to one small prize, a medium prize, or one large prize if you matched your ducks each time.

This game was obviously geared towards hatchlings, requiring little thought or intent other than “pick your favourite,” and no skill whatsoever. Charter enthusiastically started picking up ducks, water sloshing out over the side of the tub as he grabbed for them with claws and teeth, only for Salmon to slow him down a bit to show him what to do. She picked up a duck and showed him the dull red colour and asked him to pick one more for her.

He perched on the edge of the tub, eyeing them with a very serious look on his face, then snapped at the one closest to him - only to fall into the water again. Fable was almost certain he did it on purpose as she plucked him from the water with his tail held gently between her teeth, and the duckling seized in his claws. Not the same colour, so Salmon returned hers to the water and encouraged Charter to do the same.

Salmon gave Fable a look, a glimmer of fondness in amusement in her eyes as she just inclined her head for Fable to take her attention off their surroundings for one moment and play with their son. She understood Fable’s concerns; there were a lot of strangers here, and Fable had… hostile encounters with strangers before. It was entirely fair for her to be unsure of it all. They were here on the promise that there would be no violence during the festival, though. She could relax. Pick a duck.

Fable relented and scooped one of the ducks from the water with her claws, turning it over to show Charter that this one was a bright teal colour, like the water of their home. She warned him to be careful of the edge this time. They could go swimming later when they got back to the cove - what would these ducks have to swim in if he knocked all the water out of their pond?

Charter seemed a little more conscious of his efforts this time with that in mind, but still fell in when he leaned to grab a duck. Accidentally this time, Salmon was sure. She laughed quietly as she scooped both him and his duck from the water. The paint was green, which was almost blue, but not close enough for them to have won.

They had one more chance to pick some winning ducks. Fable and Salmon both agreed. Their luck was atrocious - maybe Charter would be able to pick two ducks with the same colour. Their little one was just as enthusiastic as he had been when they first got to the game, but he stood at the edge and paused, thoughtful. This was important. Only two more ducks and then they had to move on to find something else to play, and they would not get anything fun if at least one pair of ducks did not match.

He chirped to Salmon which one he wanted for the first one (purple), then asked Fable for another specific duck after some additional thought. Fable turned it over in her claws, convinced that it was going to be some other colour (did anyone ever actually win these games?) but she was surprised to see that it… was also painted purple underneath.

The tropeo congratulated them for their truly triumphant victory and gestured for them to pick a prize. Fable watched in amusement, Salmon resting her head against Fable’s neck, as Charter dashed to the “prize” pile. He took only a few moments to wrestle what looked like a very fat, squishy, oddly proportioned seagull from the pile, which he proudly brought back with him to present to Fable and Salmon. Salmon took it - though she knew that Fable preferred seabirds, she was sure Fable would want her teeth and claws free while they were here, just in case - and helped Charter back onto Fable’s back.

As they started to turn off and return to wander the crowd to the next game, Fable glanced over her shoulder to the sodden hatchling. “Did you know they were the same colour?”

Charter looked incredibly pleased with himself as he straightened up. “I saw when I fell in the second time!” he confessed wholeheartedly and unashamedly.

Salmon laughed. That was probably technically cheating, since the whole point of the game seemed to be to guess and leave winning up to chance, but they could talk about that later. For now… they could just see what else the festival had to offer them. Maybe they could see if any of the dinosaurs serving an assortment of foods had any bird eggs or fish on hand. With all the smells of cooked food drifting around, it was making her feel a little peckish and she imagined Charter and Fable might be as well.