#krick

@wilde-fun

Kristoff was woken up by the sound of cheeping. At first he thought nothing of it, because there were a tonne of birds in Swynlake and it was spring, which was peak baby bird season and he had lived out in the wilderness long enough to know what a baby bird calling for its mother sounded like without it being anything concerning, except. Except that, when he rolled over in bed, ready to go back to sleep and pointedly ignore the noise on his one day off from work, he realised that the sound was coming from inside the house.

He got out of bed slowly, wondering if he was hearing things. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. Cheep. He sat on the edge of the bed. Cheep cheep. He padded to his bedroom door, standing with his hand on the door knob. Cheep cheep cheep.

Kristoff opened the door to reveal seven baby ducks, sitting in a little huddle. When the door opened their heads whipped around, and the flat echoed with the slap of fourteen tiny flippers against the wood flooring as they toddled towards him.

And thus began Kristoff's morning.

There was no mother duck. Wherever she was, she was long gone, which probably meant she had gone back to some kind of body of water - the lake, presumably. Why she'd left the ducklings he had no idea. All he knew was that he had to get them back, because what did he know about raising ducklings?

So recently I needed some models for my Winter Bunnies sweaters, so I grabbed a few of the guys, and a few of the girls, and had them pose for me infront of a green-screen.

The boys brought their A-Game:

Totally calendar-model material. *swoons*

The girls...