TWB Honey Badger Norns

::----- The Honey Badger Norn Story.rtf -----::
The Honey Badger Norn Story
 The warp radio sat atop a high shelf, the sounds emanating from it's speakers drifted over the laboratory and its single inhabitant. Usually such a device would be used to locate new specimens for study, but the Wrong Banshee had found another use for it; by tuning it to a familiar warp frequency, she could listen to the sounds of the jungle, which she had found helped her to focus. So focused she was, hunched over her specimen tray that she had failed  to notice that the tea atop the coaster beside her had begun to go lukewarm, nor had she heard the footsteps outside her door. That was until the door swung open with such force as to spill said lukewarm tea all over her experimental nucleotides!
 "Blast!" She exclaimed, indignant, as her primitive fight of flight response kicked in and she spun to face the unwelcome guest. 
 A rather brutish looking Banshee stood beside the central workbench holding a cage, his pet Grendel waited obediently behind him.
 "I said to not interrupt me while I'm performing critical research! What is your reason for being here?"
 The other Banshee slammed the cage onto the table "Look at this."
 "What is it?"
 "A Badunk."
 "Pardon?"
 "That's what Gnaw called it when I found him, cowering inside a hollowed out tree. Anything that can scare a Grendel I want analysed."
 The Wrong Banshee approached the cage. The animal inside snarled and snapped in response, the Grendel shuffled closer to its master, such a coward!
 "OK, I will examine it... but I expect extra biscuits delivered to my lab to make up for the sample you just ruined!"
 "Very well." The Banshee said as he left, his Grendel looked very relieved to be leaving.
 The Wrong Banshee shook her head, whatever happened to manners? It was like the others just let their Grendel sides take over themselves sometimes... and  she  was the one who was 'Wrong', pah! Anyway, no time to dwell on such Inconsideracys, she pulled her goggles over her eyes and approached the cage again. The beast had been biting down hard on the fibrous bars, leaving deep indents, but now it had stopped and was glaring at the Banshee scientist; it wrinkled its nose and growled a low, deep warning. The Wrong Banshee ignored the threat and grabbed the top of the cage, slowly turning it around to take a more detailed look at the unwilling subject.
 "Mammalian, short hair suggesting a warm climate... long claws seem to be adapted to digging, perhaps a burrow dweller... small eyes and ears support this theory..."
 She turned the cage until the animal was facing in the oppose direction, this was a mistake. Quick as a flash it lifted it's tail and released a pungent spray. Caught off-guard, the Banshee's first reaction was to crush the beast then and there! Thankfully, her rational Shee DNA overruled her Grendel side and she took a step back instead.
 The stench had become overwhelming. "Drascel!" She called while stumbling to the nearest sink and a creature emerged from a nearby doorway. The Wrong Banshee was not entirely sure what exactly Drascel was; it looked like a Grendel, smelt like a Norn but acted like an Ettin... whatever it was it was most certainly one of her most useful failed experiments!
 "Get beast, put beast in machine." She instructed, the lumbering green monstrosity obeyed without questioning. Now she understood how such a small animal could have scared a creature as big as a Grendel... Grendels smell pretty bad to Shee (and to her, yuk!), but their own sense of smell far exceeded anything her kind would be capable of... his master probably couldn't even tell the difference, ha!
 The Badunk was now safely loaded into the genetic analyser and the sedatory agents ran their course. The beast, at last, lay peaceful. Data began to stream in on the analyser display, it showed many genes and sequences she recognised, but many many more that she had never seen before. What did all these new genes do? The best way to find out would be to splice them into a genetic template and see what happens... but first she would have to isolate the genes responsible for that nasty spray!
 It did not take long to come up with a working Norn genome prototype. With a single command she sent her new pattern to the egg layer and almost immediately the machine produced a tiny egg, inscribed with the Banshee's signature B. She put the little egg in the incubator and waited with baited breath, this part was always such fun, you never knew what was going to come out! The egg cracked open, and out popped the cutest little black and white Norn she had ever seen! She had to check over her shoulder to make sure that the door was closed before picking the baby up.
 "How could a Grendel ever be afraid of you?"
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         
 
  The soothing sounds of the jungle washed over the laboratory as The Wrong Banshee slumped in front of her primary workstation, nursing a migraine larger than Sphericus. It was times like this that she was thankful for the accelerated ageing of their creations. At first the little Norn had been much like any other, well, apart from it's strange obsession with destroying her Medifly nests and eating all of their syrupcomb... (Her own invention, made from modified mossie DNA in a solution of cold tea. They take a blood sample, analyse it, then inject medicines for whatever ailments they detect, quite brilliant actually!) but once it had started to grow, so did the problems. The Norn became aggressive and was completely fearless, even to the point where simply approaching it would be enough to evoke it's wrath... but that was nothing compared to how it acted when hungry... let's just say that Drascel had a lot of cleaning up to do after that.
  Thankfully, it was all over now, and despite the disruption it was all completely worth it! The data collected would be very useful indeed... but there was still something that bothered her. A sequence of genes had not been accounted for, it stood out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the genome and she knew that they had an effect... an important one at that, but she just couldn't put her finger on it! 
 She would have to do more tests... she looked up at her gene-bank displaying samples of all the many Norns, Ettins and Grendels she had encountered through the warp.  What if ? She looked down at her instruments, now a new question formed in her mind, a question of rhetorical nature, a question that gave her a greater determination than she had felt in a long time.
 " Why not ?"

Breed Slot - Ettin: 'o'
--PARTIAL--
	- MALE: [Child, Adolescent, Adult, Old]
	- FEMALE: [Child, Adolescent, Adult, Old]