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Aries Parries Queries	By : pronker Category: +M through R > Penguins of Madagascar Views: 449 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this fanfiction set in Dreamworks' Penguins of Madagascar franchise and I do not own Dreamworks.

Chapter List
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A secluded dale near The Pond in Hallett Nature Preserve proved conducive to camping, campfires, and camping camaraderie. A fingernail moon provided scant light, only enough to tinge the team atmosphere as it suggested shadowy, hidden emotions. Skipper opted to tend the campfire while assigning each team member to Jeremy Wade's piscatorial recommendation of a Shimano Tyrnos 2-Speed rig to fish with. Upon Rico burping up three sets of the gear that issued unassembled from his gullet, Skipper pointed north, south and west to Rico, Private and Kowalski respectively, accompanied by the silent signal for Routine Twenty-Two: Pure Penguin Vision. Curt, understanding nods all around made him smile as his team moved out individually and he settled on a log to poke the fire now and then. He mused that Jeremy Wade and himself were both Aries and pondered on the coincidence.
Kowalski was the first to return in the wee hours of the morning. Good old Lieutenant Kowalski, Skipper thought, prompt to his commander's side with news to make the mission succeed. He patted the space beside him on the log after adding sticks to the fire. A warmth only partly from the flames invaded his heart as he gestured for Kowalski to begin. Tears glistened in the scientist's eyes, a grand sign that a feeling reared its head.
"Go on, Kowalski," Skipper coaxed. "Your feeling had to do with your early relationship with your father, am I right? I'm right."
Kowalski sniffled, ay caramba the poor guy was overwhelmed. Skipper leaned a companionable shoulder into his second's before straightening again to return personal space to the sufferer. "You can tell me. It'll go no further."
"No. Sir."
Skipper dug deep to be a Father To His Men. "I've been sitting here unable to flush a single feeling into flight. Oh, I thought I sighted one once with a 17AML front target globe model, but no go. You succeeded where I failed. Good on you."
There was nothing in the world like a little competition, so this tactic turned the tide towards sharing a precious, valuable feeling. Kowalski stared into the glowing coals, looking through them to something a thousand yards away. He blinked hard before sniffling again. "Skipper, I hooked the biggest chain pickerel in my life, a record-breaking 112 centimeters if was an inch. Esox niger slipped off the hook 15 centimeters from landing it on the bank 2.15 feet away from me. Einstein's disproven theory, that hurt."
Kowalski must be upset if he mixed metric with Imperial measurements along with general and Latin descriptions, Skipper thought. Not the perfect ending to the night's mission, but then Private and Rico were still out there, wrestling with wriggly fish and wrigglier feelings. Hope springs eternal, and so does practicality. "Walk it off, Kowalski. We're here to learn to cry, not to whine. Tell me, where were you when you hooked that pickerel, what bait did you use and did you have to change the gear into low when he really started to fight? Was the lure a 1/8, 1/4 or a 3/8 ounce bucktail jig that penetrated weed cover? I'll bet you used that one for rip jigging. I'm right. I must be."
Kowalski refocused his stare to the enthusiastic angler beside him. "You want feelings, yeah I get it. You want to please the Big Boss, yeah I get that, too. You're the only one of us to have met her, so what is she like?"
Any competent leader knows a teaching moment. Kowalski was not out of line to ask this, so Skipper went for broke. "Leopard seals morph into pussycat seals when they encounter her. She's one tough oatmeal cookie. She could bite ten-penny nails into three three-penny nails and nosh on the bit left over. She has zero sense of humor - "
"Forget I brought up the subject, sir. She's as unlike my Doris as could be. I get it."
"I, I guess so, it's as you say, Kowalski. You know Doris best."
The moonlight became fainter still as a cloud high up passed before it to shroud any look Kowalski threw his friend and commander's way. "You know her second best."
"Let's not go into that. Let's cry. I believe I can work up a tear or three now. It must be the smoke from the fire."
"Wot do they mean, Rico? Is this another topic I'm too young and gormless for?" Private must have polished his covert sneaking because Kowalski and Skipper jumped a little at the approach of the last two campers.
From one step behind the youngest member of the team, Rico slid his free flipper over Private's eyes but Private knocked it down. Rico sighed, "Neffermind, 'Rivate, neffermind."
All four twitched in the next minute while a fluttering shape circled the fire, dipping and climbing, circling danger, flying ever nearer to singe its wings. "An early luna moth, gents, everyone have a gander! Crikey, usually it's May before they come out!"
Skipper admired the beautiful creature as he held out his flipper for it to land on safely, but it did not land and swooped instead nearer the orange flames. Protectprotectprotect surged into his brain as he thrashed his flippers instead, well they all thrashed to shoo away the delicate green sprite of the night. The moth spiraled upwards to disappear from view.
"How sweet it's gettin' away, yay!"
"Yay!" the rest chorused until Private picked up his train of troublesome thought once again. "Hang about, I'm not lettin' this go - wot did the two of you mean - "
IOIOIOIO
TBC
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