((Oh man, this is too long. And lame Just some delicious backstory to explain a tiny bit of his bitter-old-stag-ness. It's somewhat parallel to what I imagine would have happened in humandeer-land, except restraining orders and prison don't translate well to Forest life. xD By the way, I suck at writing dialect and accents and shiz :<
Anyway, enjoy. Or not.))

The day crept closer and everyone could sense it. Each morning would be steeped with tension and curious glances, looking for news from the stag’s callous expression or the doe’s exhausted eyes. Still, they were never seen together; she stayed far from him and spent the days with her sister who vowed to fend off “that monster” should he venture near. Chanté had grown weaker as time went on and had no energy to resist her defensive stance; she simply accepted the protection and stuck by her sister’s side, never daring to be left alone. Meanwhile, the stag would spend his days sulking and venturing off alone for days at a time before anyone saw him again. Thoughts and emotions flooded him every minute, but he kept a rigid façade to hide the inner chaos. He doubted himself constantly and often wondered if he really meant what he had said.

The two sisters would periodically seek out the rest of his family; a soft-spoken brown and gold doe, a sensible charcoal-black stag streaked with red & gold, and their youngest who was still an adolescent but hardly spoke a word. The family was eager to see her when she made an appearance, offering comfort and kind words of optimism. They sympathized with her situation and, quite unlike their older son, cared for her wellbeing and treated her as part of the family. Mention of the rebellious young stag never crossed their tongues, they tended to keep him a taboo subject as there was still indecision when it came to how the issue would be handled; with or without him.

In her mind, Chanté grew more distant from him by the day. And why not? Did he care about her; about the fawn? At first she assured herself there was a chance, but it had become quite obvious that she was wrong. He was probably off with some other young doe now, leaving her and their child completely forgotten. He never saw anything in her, he never genuinely loved her. This was all just an accident to inconvenience him and hinder his prolific social life.
The doe winced at the thought, lowering her head to the gentle stream and gazing sadly into the current that glided smoothly over rounded stones. Dawn crept across the painted sky, and Kiskeya slept soundly in a nearby brush of tall yellow grass. The doe exhaled heavily through her nose, shifting her weight. She found it difficult to sleep for longer than an hour at a time lately, and every waking moment left her fatigued. She mildly shook her head, the few beads and charms adorning her dark dreadlocked ropes of hair tinkered with the motion. Her decision had to be made soon. The fawn could be due at any time, and she would have little choice at that point.

The gallop of hoofbeats echoed through the dense golden trees graced with sunlight. She froze, staring ahead but seeing nothing except insects dancing the warm beams of light and gentle breaths of wind through the grass. Her heart fluttered as the beats drew nearer, glancing nervously to Kiskeya, waiting for her to leap up and shield her, but she remained undisturbed. The urge to flee was strong, but fear locked her legs stubbornly into place. Widened amber eyes searched frantically around for the intruder, and spotted him only when he had already spotted her. A dark flash among the birch trees, confidently striding closer with his curled antlers held high. Chanté stepped backward lightly, feeling a tiny movement from her abdomen. She was terrified.

“Don’ come any closer.” She warned in her delicate Haitian-Creole accent, her words carrying softly through the humid air. Her sister woke at the sound and came quickly to a stand, immediately noticing the stag standing before them. Kiskeya’s eyes shot him a dangerous look and she took a defensive stance.
The stag left their warnings unheeded and trotted abruptly up to the younger doe, sliding to a halt on golden hooves. She took another step backwards as he glanced her over, his eyes lingering curiously on her belly.

“What do you want?” She stammered breathlessly. His attention was torn away, back to her distressed eyes. The doe’s earthy-brown face was set sternly on his.

“Are you avoiding me now?” He jeered accusingly, briefly looking to see the older doe twitch in anger.

“Wi,” She affirmed shortly in her native language, “and you need to stay away, Masquerade. I am leaving for good.”

The stag’s haughty expression fell in the uncomfortable silence that followed, but under his black mask he quickly replaced it with devastation.

“What?” he hissed, “You can’t do that.”

“I can, I’m leaving today, and don’ you dare try to stop me.” Her breaths quickened, as if she were on the verge of tears. “You will not harm me or this fawn; I will make sure of it-“

“The hell are you talking about?” Masque snapped, prompting Kiskeya to step closer to them. “Why would I hurt either of you?”

“I cannot have confidence that you will not; you are too unpredictable.” She answered solemnly.

“Unpredictable?” Kiskeya growled from behind her, the tines of her antlers lowered. “’e is far from it. ‘e is a demon, every day of ‘is vile, rotten life.”

“Kiskeya, souple rete!” Chanté pleaded to her sister, begging her to stop to which the doe succumbed and the three fell silent. Far away, bird’s happy songs rang from the treetops. Chanté turned back to the stag with her head lowered despondently.

“I…can’ trust you to be anywhere near us. We will leave…raise the fawn wit’out you.” She confessed to Masque, avoiding his glare.

“Like hell you will.” He snarled, his voice now gravelly with distress. “That is my fawn, I have the right to see it every day if I want to.”

“You don’ want anyt’ing to do with it!” She interjected, blinking away tears. “Don’ act like you suddenly care. Nobody is falling for t’at. I know you t’ink ‘dis was a mistake, so just let me take care of it wit’out you.” Tears now streamed down her freckled brown cheeks, leaving Masque completely unobjectionable.
He gritted his teeth together and cast his gaze into the trees, wishing she wouldn’t cry. It was clear that she had her mind set on leaving him, and it would take something extraordinary for her to give him a chance, but it was all he wanted. Masque had realized in the past few days that he had lied when he said he wanted nothing to do with the fawn, and he was prepared to reform himself thoroughly if that’s what it took to even see it once. He couldn’t keep pretending to disregard his own child.

The older doe stepped out in front of Chanté, staring fiercely at the stag as she did.

“You leave ‘er alone, devil.” She sneered hatefully before turning to the younger doe and offering a gentle nuzzle. Masque narrowed his eyes but kept silent, wanting to say something that didn’t make the matter worse. Consoling words were mournfully exchanged between the does in their Haitian French, and naturally he didn’t understand what they said. Kiskeya was no doubt urging her sister to leave him as soon as possible, insisting that he was an evil brute and would gore her if given the chance.

“Chanté,” Masque began sternly, fighting to keep a calm tone, “I’m not going to do anything to you or the kid. You don’t have to leave.”
The doe’s large ears lay flat as she lifted her perfectly defined eyes up at him apprehensively, peering around her sister’s tense form. She was at a loss of what to tell him, but she was often known to be as stubborn as him and had no plans to change her mind. Masque, if he was looking for redemption, would be left disappointed. She shook her head solemnly and averted her gaze, without answering him. Kiskeya positioned herself fully in between them with her back to the stag, but she turned her long neck around to give him another dark scowl, daring him to press on. The stag wasn’t ready to give in so easily, and despite the clear warning, he nearly jumped forward when Chanté inhaled sharply with surprise as she felt another stirring of movement from her belly. She felt tired, and somewhat dizzy from the increasingly warm air, and ached to lay down somewhere, but she wished Masque would leave.

“An alè.” She spoke softly, indicating that she wished to go. The other doe agreeably nodded, and turned away from the stag once again, giving him no further attention. A frown tugged at his mouth as he stood rooted to the earth and watched them amble away wordlessly. What could he do? Call after her- beg and grovel pathetically at her hooves? It was completely useless. She knew what he wanted, and she knew she wouldn’t let him have it.

It was a long while before he turned and left himself, after following their path with only his eyes until they disappeared into the birch grasses. It was at that moment that defeat overwhelmed him, and he felt more hate for himself than he had ever felt before. The dreadful feeling of absolute failure followed him, heavy on his withers and his heart, until nightfall came and he threw himself down between a group of young trees, cursing himself and unable to sleep for hours.

In the morning, the two does were gone. They hadn’t been sighted or heard from by anyone, and Masque himself spent the entire day searching for any clue as to where they were. He found nothing.
Furious, he spent the following days taking out his anger on everything he could possibly find. Saplings were uprooted, his antlers thrashed through bushes and rammed powerfully into stone, hooves tearing at the soil. But nothing he did could eliminate the vision of his child being born without him there. Being raised without a father and told from day one that he was a mindless brute- or worse, that he didn’t care. That he never cared. The stag wore a cringe every moment he thought about it, even years later when the event had been banished from his memory. Since the night Chanté left, Masque could never look at a fawn the same way again. He loathed them, their innocent youth, their caring mothers, their watchful fathers. Hatred and disgust plagued every living minute that he was reminded of what happened. Furthermore, he never forgave himself for causing it. The day forever haunted him when his pride and senselessness had gotten him carried too far away, and it cost him a family that he’d never get back.