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Chapter Text

It was dark – it was still dark. The Tortuga stood in the late night air, among the darkened, early morning forests, a darker shape against a dark background, a solid among a tangle. Chris and Martin, the titular Wild Kratt brothers, emerged from the aforementioned vehicle, dressed in their trademark colors, but more warmly than they would usually, because even mid-spring in the boreal belt can be chilly, especially during the night and twilight. They looked around stealthily and sneakily – they were on good terms with their friends, but did not want to wake them so early in the morning, even they were not so oblivious and obtuse – and went outside, into the darkened forest.

“I cannot believe it, brother,” Martin Kratt whispered to Chris in a conspirational whisper. “We are going to see the capercaillie, aka the heather cock and the wood grouse, the largest member of the grouse family! Why, at its heaviest it is over 7 kg heavy! That is like 26 pounds or something-“

“Yes, but don’t forget its’ extreme sexual dimorphism – the male of the species may be twice as big and heavy as the female!” Chris replied, sounding equally excited. “The female is kind of drab colored too, unlike the male, which is red-browed, bearded, and-“

“Is that it?” Martin interrupted his sibling, pointing at a shadow at the edge of the bog. (A different edge from the one where the Tortuga had landed, because even this amazing machine could become, well, bogged down in a bog). “The wood grouse?”

“Where?” Chris whirled around, but saw nothing. The sun wasn’t up yet, (it was so early), but the moon hadn’t fully set either, so there was still moonlight, on top of the scattered starlight, so the place was somewhat illuminated, at least. “I don’t see anything!”

“Me neither,” Martin confessed, ruefully. “Guess I’m so excited that my mind’s playing tricks on me. After all, like the rest of its’ family, the wood grouse isn’t very subtle – it got a loud, energetic, clapping wingbeats; you can always hear it when it takes to the air-“

Strange cracking sounds resonated through the twilit air. Martin yelped and jumped onto his brother: “Yikes!”

“Easy, easy!” Chris calmed down his sibling. “This is the wood grouse of which we were talking about; this is how the male sings!”

“I knew that!” Martin replied in a shaky voice that belied his words. “It’s just that, it’s just…” Both brothers trailed away. The morning fog was rising from the swampy ground, giving the surrounding countryside an eldritch, fairy tale like, atmosphere. The rotting stumps and logs, the rust-colored muck and ooze, the shrubs and the saplings were beginning to vanish, their shapes and outlines broken up by the milky, thick, white fog.

“Okay, this is spooky,” Chris muttered, even as the strange sounds came back. This time, both brothers jumped into the air, and landed on the moss-covered ground, butts first.

“Ouch!” Christ muttered as he looked around – by now, the fog was so thick, and high that most landmarks were obscured, and while the brothers did know – generally – where the Tortuga was, right now, it was hard to see where it was, precisely. Again, not a problem, but-

“Hey, brother, cranberries!” Martin Kratt, on the other hand, had his spirits lifted. “The wood grouse’s favorite food!” He picked up a berry and popped it into his mouth; maybe it was rather careless of him, but-

“Really?” Chris ignored his brother’s carelessness and looked at his own berry. “They looked kind of different in the guidebooks… hey, do you smell something-“

“Brother, I don’t think that those are cranberries; these are cloudberries!” Martin, meanwhile, was busy eating to pay attention to his brother’s concerns. “Hm, and they are really good, not as sour as wild cranberries are supposed to be. Hey, do you-“

Martin did not finish, as an ursine snout appeared from the fog. ‘Ursine’, because it did belong to a bear – an Asian black bear, rather than a brown bear. In particular, it was smaller than a brown bear of its age would be, but both Kratt brothers panicked instead and fled, in the general direction of the Tortuga.

…As luck would have it, they ran directly to the Tortuga and then up its ramp, pursued by the bear in question. Normally the brothers would be happy to entertain a bear in the wild, away from the Tortuga and its’ vulnerable and fragile equipment, but right now, their nerves had bro-ken and they reacted without properly thinking, (cough). The bear, operating more on instincts than on any other mental processes, followed them, and suddenly, all three of them found themselves inside the Tortuga, because Aviva had already woken up, (as did the rest of the Tortuga’s crew), and was looking – slowly – for the Kratt brothers; slowly, because she already suspected that they were outside by now-

“Oof!”

-only they came back inside already, followed by their new friend.

“You know,” Aviva began to comment, feeling rather annoyed by being bowled over by the brothers, (and the bear), when the bear in question looked around and saw Jimmy Z, as the latter emerged from the Tortuga’s kitchen with his breakfast in hands…

The bear’s jaws snapped shut. Jimmy’s eyes opened wide, (he had been still sleepy and unaware of his surroundings at that time before), as the bear took his breakfast and left the Tortuga through the still-open hatch.

“Guys!” Aviva said, (rather shrilly). “Jimmy! No feeding our food to the wild animals!”

“Someone tell it to the bear,” Jimmy shot back as he turned around and left for the Tortuga’s kitchen once more. “I wanted to eat my breakfast myself, you know!”

As the kitchen door closed behind Jimmy, Aviva turned her attention back to the brothers. “Well?” she asked them, ignoring the fact that they were still lying in a tangled mess. “And what about you?”

“No birds right now outside,” Martin said miserably. “Only bears.”

“And fog,” Chris replied, sounding just as morose, if not more. “No wood grouses.”

“Well, it is getting sunnier outside,” Aviva pointed out through one of the Tortuga’s windows. “And the fog is lifting up. Maybe you’ll have better luck now?”

“I don’t know,” Chris replied, still looking – and sounding – morose as he walked over to the window and looked outside. “The wood grouses usually call out before sunrise and now-“

Chris did not finish. As the sun rose into the sky properly, and the fog dispersed, he – and Martin, and Aviva – could see the local meadow, still covered in last year’s withered grass, among which some black-feathered birds strutted around, in a cocky-like manner.

“Binoculars?” Aviva offered the device in question to Chris. He and Martin fought over them some, until Aviva got them to share, and then they looked out. The birds present there did have black plumage of a male grouse, and red brows, but they had no beards – in fact, their necks were quite smooth, and their tails weren’t fan-like, but rather – lyre-like instead.

“Those aren’t wood grouses – those birds are loners, anyhow,” Martin finally reached a conclusion. “Those are black grouses, instead. Their closest cousins amongst the grouses is the Caucasian grouse, not the wood grouse-“

“Brother, let’s go and investigate the black grouses instead!” Chris spoke-up suddenly. “They may be the wrong species of grouse, but still look amazing!”

“I agree!” Martin, well, agreed, as the two brothers raced back to the doorway of the Tortuga. “Aviva, see you soon!”

“Oh, brothers!” Aviva muttered in exasperation and left to examine the kitchen’s contents – was there anything left after Jimmy’s double-whammy…

Back outside, the Kratt brothers were carefully stalking the black grouses, even though the latter ignored them in favor of females of their own species. The latter were smaller than the males, much more drab and mottled in their coloration, with no lyre-like tails or red brows.

“Yes, the grouses are like that – males are bright and showy, especially during spring and summer, the females are more drab and camouflaged in their plumage!” Chris was telling his brother the fact of life with an attitude that was almost as cocky and self-important as that of the black grouse males, and they were certainly full of it, as they showed off before the females of their species by inflating their torsos and smashing each other in mid-air. “All of the those species – the wood grouse, the black, the Caucasian are like that-“

“Aren’t there some that are different?” Martin asked thoughtfully and sceptically, as he tried to think over through the list of the birds in the bird family in question. “I mean yes, the grouses are polygamist, I think – one male has a harem of females, but some, I think, are monogamous and form permanent couples-“

Martin did not finish, as from beneath a rotten stump came a loud, warning hiss. The Kratt brother in question gulped and froze, as a 60-cm long snake, light covered, but with darker dorsal crossbars on its back, emerged from beneath the rotten wood.

“Chris, don’t move!” Martin whispered, (well, stage-whispered, because snakes cannot really hear). “This is the European viper, the most venomous snake up here in the north! If it bites one of us, we’ll be ill for a week or two!”

There was a pause as the brothers looked at each other and at the snake, which appeared to be more defensive than offensive, here. “Well, the Tortuga has a large antivenin collection, including for this snake,” Chris finally said after a pause. “If we do get bitten, which is more of an ‘if’ than a ‘when’, then Aviva can always give us the antidote in question. Is it really so scary?”

“No, so what? We do get bitten?” Martin asked the next question.

“No, because the snake would get stressed first?” Chris thought this over some more. “Do we really want to stress a snake?”

“No?”

“Right answer,” Chris nodded thoughtfully. “Now, where were we?”

A series of avian sounds came from their side. The Kratt brothers looked and saw a couple of relatively small birds – 35-39 cm long – courting each other. Both were finely mottled, with grey upperparts, brown wings and chestnut-flecked white underparts. One of the birds had a short erectile crest and a white-bordered black throat, which the other bird lacked, and it was the first bird that was taking the charge of their courting song-and-dance routine.

“It’s the hazel grouse!” Chris whispered excitedly. “One of the smaller grouses and one of the rarer ones.”

“Aw!” Both brothers said in appreciation, as the two birds finished their routine and withdrew to consummate their relationship in private. “This was adorable! Wasn’t it adorable?” they asked the bear – the same bear that they have met earlier today.

The bear just half-snarled and half-burped, releasing a burst of bad breath into the crisp morning air. The Kratt brothers exchanged a look between each other, and withdrew, post-haste, from the scene, leaving the bear alone, going back towards the Tortuga. The bear disagreed…

Several moments later screams of Aviva – “Guys, no wild animals in Tortuga, please!” – and of Jimmy – “My second-second breakfast!”

In other words, this was a typical morning in lives of the Tortuga’s crew.

End

Chapter Text

“You know, brother, I’ve been thinking-“

“Oh no, stop the presses-!”

“Ha-ha,” Matt Kratt shot his brother Chris a look. “I’ve been thinking that we should go forth and try looking for the capercailles once again, as they might not have finished leking yet.”

“That is quite a possibility, brother, but unlike their relatives, the capercailles don’t make leks – they’re much more solitary!”

“Really? I thought that I saw a movement in the trees out there-“

“No, that is just J-Z down below…” the brothers paused, blinked, looked at each other, did not say anything, and raced to say ‘Hi’ to their friend, (who was outside of the Tortuga already), to ask what he was doing with the saucer of milk?

“Oh, I’ve seen a kitty outside and want to give it some milk,” the other young man replied in his trademark absent-minded manner.

The brothers blinked. “Chris, do you think-?” Matt asked his brother.

“No, probably not,” Chris shook his head. “The European wildcats actually do live only in Europe and not here; the various Asian wildcat species live further down south from here; and we haven’t seen any human habitations nearby, so it probably isn’t a domestic cat turned feral either. J-Z, I don’t know what you’ve seen-“

“Got you!” Jimmy, who had been ignoring the brothers all this time, apparently, reached out into the shrubs and pulled-out… well, he pulled out something, but it was clearly not a cat, or even a mammal, but rather a bird of some sort. Granted, it had horn-like feathers on its’ head, vaguely reminiscent of a cat’s ears, but still…

“J-Z?” Chris shook his head. “This isn’t a cat of any kind, but a fledgling eagle owl instead!”

“Really?” his interlocutor blinked himself, rather owl-like, and stared at his catch. “Man, I don’t know, it doesn’t look eagle-like at all-“

“That is because it isn’t – despite their name, eagle owls are Old World cousins of the North American great horned owl instead,” Chris patiently explained.

“Oh, ok. Is it its’ dead relative in those bushes, then?”

“What?” the two brothers blinked and joined their friend (and his catch) at the bushes – but no, it was not a dead owl; it was a dead capercaille instead, and it was partially eaten already as well.

“Ok, I didn’t expect to find out of those giant grouse like this,” Matt commented to Chris. “I wonder who did the dirty deed, though?”

“Maybe them?” his brother replied, as he pointed upwards, where a pair of adult eagle owls were sitting (on a tree branch), doing their best to loom over the humans and to channel their inner dinosaurs. They were doing a good effort of it too… when the shrubs crashed and broke away, and the bear from the previous chapter emerged. It, too, was in a rather bad mood right now, and since this was Cenozoic, no dino-channeling bird was going to impress it, and the eagle owls knew it, as they quickly left the scene instead.

“Um,” Jimmy instinctively pointed at the dead bird. The bear, also instinctively, looked in that direction, took a couple of sniffs, and decisively trotted over to it, before beginning to crunch it down, bones and all. Meanwhile, the Kratt brothers and Jimmy, deciding that as far as nature went, a hungry bear should be watched slash observed from a safe distance, (probably from inside the Tortuga), when the fledgling owl, (which, apparently, decided that the humans are going to be its’ new family), hooted.

Everyone froze, as the bear finished eating the dead grouse and looked at the owl. From a human point of view, owls taste terrible. On the other hand, as far as bears of any color and species are concerned, (except maybe for the giant panda), a fledgling bird of any species that is on the ground and can’t fly away is a free snack, and no bear is sated on roots and berried alone, you know?

“Uh, milk?” Jimmy pointed to the saucer of milk that was still lying on the ground. The bear looked in that direction, sniffed, licked the milk up with one lick, and charged at the humans and the bird with all the finesse of a Jurassic Park T-Rex. The brothers, Jimmy, and the owlet were barely able to get out of the way, and the bear ran straight into the Tortuga.

“You again?!” Aviva’s half cry, half roar shook the craft, causing the bear to abruptly run away from the craft, (possibly suffering from the runs, but that was not important, really).

“People!” Aviva stomped out from the Tortuga. “Listen! You! I! What is that, our new mascot?” she abruptly changed topics of discussion, seeing the bird for her first time now.

“It’s an eagle owl owlet,” Matt Kratt replied quickly enough, (as no one present wanted to have Aviva yell at him or her in any vocal volume). “It’d fallen from…” he looked up and around, “…up there, we think,” he pointed at a bird’s nest, barely visible from where all of them were standing, and needs our help to get back home.”

“And since birds don’t like humans disturbing their nests you need to suit up,” Aviva finished, her voice still tart enough. “Therefore, you want a bird disk to fly up there, or a bear disk to climb?”

“One of each please!” the Kratt brothers spoke eagerly and in unison, and so began their new adventure.

End?