[South America] Unintended

[Talei]

The sound of insects, known and unknown, is what greeted Talei in the early morning. The sun was just starting to turn the sky a rose pink, and the chill caused goosebumps to rise. But this chill was bearable, unlike the bitter cold that resided back at base. They had set up camp on a small island they had flown over as the sun was setting last night. 'They' being Tal and Inuk. Tal insisted that they land, considering flying during the night was never a good idea unless they were planning an attack. Inuk had begrudgingly given in after a bit of back-talk.

They had scouted the place as the light of day faded and found a small stream, which they decided to stay close to. Fresh water was always a good thing. Besides which, they had landed their dragons close by. Watch rounds had shifted throughout the night, in case some hostile animals were on the island, but the night had passed without incident. Now, Tal was heading to the river with a change of clothes, a towel, and a bar of soap. Knowing that the next time they'd see base was about a week from now, a bath when some privacy was available sounded like heaven.

Stripping down until she reached her bandages, Tal put her clothes down in a dry area and started unwinding the binding. Giving her dies a rub, she sighed at the feeling of release and freedom. After testing the water a bit (and shivering because the heat of day had yet to warm it) she slowly lowered herself in. This was going to be quick, considering how cold it was. Plus the fact that Inuk might wake up and go looking for her.

Grabbing the soap, Tal started scrubbing as fast as she could, eager to get out and dry off after she was suitably clean.

[Inuk Rasmussen]

For all the energy the Lance Corporal expended in waking, all quicksilver motion and cavalier stride, the Greenlander became a completely different being in the depths of slumber. Within the soundness of sleep and the darkness of his tent, his tall shirtless body sweating in the tropic heat, Inuk Rasmussen lay in almost absolute stillness, dreaming of ice and sea.

He was the glacier, the wind, the snow—he was the rime in the night, the melt of new morning. He was the hardened rock bearing the burden of eons. He was the spray of arctic ocean in the fisherman’s face, the biting chill scoring his arms. Fish and seal and whale and shark swam freely within the waves of his veins. Dog and man trampled across his skin, smaller and yet the same. He was the sound of drums and whistles, of harps and fiddles. He was the silence. He was the face of every man, woman, and child—the laugh of the newborn babe, the tear in an elder’s eye, the proud and beating heart of every living thing. They were him, and they were his children, all at once. So it was, and so it always had been, and so it will be again.

He was home.

A foreign bird’s cry tore through the vision, jolting Inuk awake. He blinked, lying in the dark, his body steaming with the memory of frost. After a beat, the Inuit let himself rise, shaking his shaggy head and rubbing his neck.

“The fuck was that about,” he wondered aloud, snorting. When he received no answer, Inuk yawned, stretching out and reluctantly grabbing his shirt and pants. A few moments later he was dressed, even if it beggared the Inuit’s logic to add layers in this heat, and stumbling out to harass his teammate.

To his surprise and amusement, the little Lieutenant was nowhere in sight, despite having the responsibility of keeping watch. Inuk wasn’t too bothered by the thought, considering that the most threatening thing on this green-covered sandbar was probably a flamboyant bird or lizard, but for the straight-laced and irritable Fijian to be neglecting his duty after making such a big deal about protocol the night before struck the Inuit as humorously hypocritical. He grinned, lacing his thumbs through his belt loops as he set off in search of the other, more than willing to give Tal a little crap to start out the day.