Quack

[threateningflour]

Who: Coulson and anyone
What: Duck
Where: Highcrest
When: 3/16
Warnings: ridiculous ahead

[Along a dirt road in Highcrest this fine morning, one agent is continuing his daily stroll around Mallow Hallow. There is one difference today, a brood of ducklings are waddling after him.

As he crosses the road, the ducklings honk and try to rush across to follow him, prompting a frown on Coulson's face, so he turns back around, ushering them back to the side of the road and crouches down before them sternly]

Look both ways before crossing.

[No, he hasn't grown a soft spot for them. Why do you ask?]

Comments

[threateningflour]

[stands and looks up at him]

Can I help you?

[on_thin_ice]

Nope, just wanted to point and laugh, Mama Duck.

[threateningflour]

They're just confused.

[one of the ducklings makes a suspiciously offended sound]

[on_thin_ice]

[He laughs.]

Ducks are smart. They taught me how to fly centuries ago. Or was that geese?

[threateningflour]

[centuries...]

Geese are smart and vicious.

[on_thin_ice]

They are? They didn't seem to mind...

[threateningflour]

They're territorial where I'm from.

[on_thin_ice]

Oh, that's still true.

But I'm not human so I pass!

[threateningflour]

What's your name?

[on_thin_ice]

It's Jack Frost.

[threateningflour]

[arcs his eyebrows]

Personification of winter.

[on_thin_ice]

I like being called a person better, thank you very much.

[threateningflour]

Mr. Frost then.

[on_thin_ice]

[Weirdo]

Jack. It's Jack. Do I look that old to you?

[threateningflour]

You did say centuries.

[on_thin_ice]

[He makes a face]

I'm old, but I've never grown up. I prefer being a kid.

[threateningflour]

Why's that?

[on_thin_ice]

It's more fun.

[threateningflour]

It doesn't get boring for you?

[on_thin_ice]

No way! It's a bit dull during the summer but otherwise, I have a blast!

[threateningflour]

If it works for you.

[one of the ducklings is hopping on his shoe in an attempt to get a better vintage point at Jack]

[on_thin_ice]

[He lands on the ground neatly, tiny patterns of frost appearing from below his feet, swooping to pick up the duck]

Hey, Ducky!

[threateningflour]

[The duck peeps and flounders around. Coulson... resists the urge to tell him to be careful]

Creative.

[on_thin_ice]

What, like you can do better?

[He sets the duck down soon enough, mindful of his temperature]

[threateningflour]

[Duckling peeps and waddles back to Coulson]

His name is Al.