|I would love to RP with him. :3 I wonder how him and my doe Aneirin would get along. I'll post first, if that's okay.|

Morning light shed upon the forest like a warm blanket. It wasn't too hot and it wasn't too cold. It was just the right amount. Dew gathered upon the leaves and stems of the many trees and plant life, drawing one particular doe to wake up and tend to her 'friends'.
Aneirin stretched her nimble legs and shook her coat, making dew droplets scatter to the wind. The Blue Bowl was already alive with activity. From butterflies to birds, each different type of species flew about, acknowledging their friend's appearance.
Smiling, Aneirin could already hear the sounds of the trees calling out to her. A part of her often thought they'd uproot themselves to find her on certain days because, unlike the deer who had limbs and could roam, trees stayed in one place all the while they grew up. It was a sad and boring life to sit day after day with no one to talk to except your neighbor, but that's why Aneirin was there, and trees always had something to talk about.
Oh, the stories they could tell!
One particular tree wouldn't stop whispering through Aneirin's mind: the Old Oak. It seemed that ever since she'd found her ability, that one had called to her the most. Only when she got close enough to be sensed, did the tree's aura calm.
Aneirin cocked her head to the side, blinking past the purple mask she wore, and walked up to the Oak. It hummed at her and she giggled, resting her fluffy white cheek against its bark to hear what it had to say.

|Hope that was okay.|

|^_^ Thank you. And Moss definitely seems like a unique character. Wonder what Aneirin's going to think.|
Closing her eyes, visions of the past went streaming across the backs of the doe's eyelids, showing Aneirin a new story. First a couple of blue jays happily fluttering about pink flowers. Their wings contrasting beautifully against the pink hue the flower petals put off. With another flash, Aneirin was brought to the attention of the Pond. A place where koi fish dived and dipped amongst the lilypads as if playing a neverending game of tag. Their shimmering colors were wonderful as well, for each ray of sunlight that bounced along their scales, it reminded her of stained glass.
The doe began placing pieces together as soon as each picture came into process and when she'd had the full story. It was funny, really, how this story seemed to come about and Aneirin couldn't help but laugh nervously as she leaned away from the tree.
"Are you trying to tell me something about the animals?" she asked. Getting only two pictures caused her to become a little confused. Birds, pink flowers, fish swimming amongst fresh lilypads. Usually there were more, but after showing the Pond, the tree seemed to dim into darkness.
Then there was something....

"Watcher."

Aneirin blinked and spun around, her ears erect as she scanned the surrounding area. Stopping immediately once she came upon a black and white stag who looked to be as though he was, indeed, watching her.
Aneirin blushed madly, embarrassed that she'd been caught practically nuzzling a tree. Even worse being caught by a stag. She was already made fun of enough as it was. Being called names such as "Tree Talker" or "Bark Lover." She cowered lightly, lowering her head and flattening her ears.
But then there was hope.
Maybe he didn't see. Maybe he thought I was just scratching my shoulder. Aw, come on. Who's going to believe that? You were standing there, leaning up against the Oak for a good five minutes!
Hope vanished.
Aneirin cleared her throat, however, and stood up as straight as she could without her legs trembling. Wordless, the doe took a step towards the stag and lowered into a bow. Maybe being respectful would clear the vision he might have gained.

Aneirin looked up from her hunched position, and relaxed a bit once she'd seen the smile the stag had sent her way. He looks okay. She got to her hooves, more confident now, and said in a tiny voice, "H-hello. I'm Aneirin, but you can call me Rin. Or...or Rinny. Whichever one is fine." Her stuttering almost always came along with meeting new deer. She could't help it. She also couldn't help but blush, either. A part of her believe that, by this stag's actions, he was a gentleman. The way he stood and even that bow! It was as if everything was planned out perfectly. In a way it reminded her of Asfaloth, the forest Sentinel.

"Um, what's your name, sir?" Aneirin asked finally, while hearing a breeze whisper through the branches of the trees. As if the plants themselves were laughing at her question. What was so funny? Did they know something she didn't?

Aneirin cocked her head lightly, listening at how the stag said his name. Awel? She had never heard such a name before, but by how he said it, something told her he wasn't exactly capable of sounding out human words like she could. Maybe he was different then the others. Maybe he had his own way of speaking.

Aneirin's ears drooped and she smiled, lifting a hoof. "It's nice to meet you, Awel," she said, her voice more uppity now that she was able to get through introductions without being teased. "Do you come here often?" The doe felt she should stick with as many "yes", "no", or "maybe" answers as possible so she didn't frustrate the stag. She didn't like to cause any problems, even if they were by accident.

The rhythmic-like movements the stag made before her almost seemed familiar in a way. Aneirin watched as he tapped the ground, cocked his head, and tapped the ground again. The tapping, she knew from Asfaloth, meant things like "follow", "come here", or "sit with me." Those had been her first expressions as a fawn, and if it hadn't been for the forest Sentinel, she wouldn't have any idea what Awel would've been saying.

But, thanks to Falo, she knew better.

Aneirin nodded in return to Awel's question. "Alright. Where are we going?"
She was smiling now, happy because she was able to communicate with the stag without causing any frustration. She could be like the trees and how they used expressions or pictures to show what they were saying. Of course there were those who thought the trees moved merely because of the breeze, but Aneirin knew better. They only did such things to blend in and look normal to the ones who wouldn't understand their speech. Like humans!
A part of her was also happy because of the fact that, even if it was a bit kiddish, both of their names started with the letter 'A'. She wasn't sure why, but something told her they'd get along because of that.

With an almost bounce to her step, Aneirin followed behind her new friend. Trying to match each of his foot falls with her own. She was still quite curious as to why Awel had decided to stick to speaking using mere body language. Was he traditional like that? Or was he just not able to talk? If it turned out to be the latter, Aneirin wouldn't mind asking for his story...

But then caught herself. How could he explain an entire story to her through body language? Was she capable to understand what all that movement would mean?

There was only one way to really find out.

Shiiing.

Aneirin looked up toward the sound of something she hadn't heard before only to be pelted in the head with an acorn. She squinted and shook her head before refocusing on Awel who stood...on the other side of a tree? Even now she could see the blue sheen of magic disperse just around the truck. One ear drooped while the other stood straight up in a questioning manner. The whole expression she gave off pretty much said, "Did you walk through that tree just now?"

((I dunno, Seed. I'd expect it to be super-simple since Seed and Moss are both like that. But whatever you can come up with is alright with me!))

((Alright, think I got something.))

Seed's hooves glided over the surface of the water. He passed over the koi as he leapt, his hooves touching the water for only short beats before lifting off again -- between his speed and the forest's magic, he kept skimming the surface, leaving ripples... Until he reached the center of the pond and then he came to an abrupt stop.

Splash. Into the water he went, swimming back as a frog and re-emerging in the shallows, setless and dripping, shedding flowers and leaves. As the water dripped off his bare fur and followed his woodgrain in little rivulets, Seed began to recall his spells. His light-hearted steps carried him to the waterside and a willow by the mouth of the river. By the time he reached it, all his magic was back in its place, taking away the starkness of his green leaves and the mossy patch on his back.

"Aaah....How nice..."

He flopped down beneath the willow and had a look-around for anything interesting.

@Rhhya

Evening fell quickly over the forest. Crickets chirped in the grass, scared up by the large beast's hooves as he meandered through the darkening woods. He could hear the bats flapping overhead, their flights sweeping in wide arcs as they snatched bugs from mid-air. Despite an almost constant presence from the bats, the stag's ears perked as he was alerted to another.

Quietly the stag moved out into the clearing, ears erect and eyes scanning for anyone that could have made him go on alert. Thankfully the Gods had granted Moss-Awel good night vision, so it took him just a short time to notice the almost invisible black doe.

Awel stood there watching her. Had he just stumbled on something he should not have? Had he scared her? The stag did not know really what he would do to explain himself, as he was mute, but he might try something.

The hart gave a bow in her direction.



@Seed

Another had been frolicking in the waters of the pond, his body not in the shape of a deer. A frog swam and leaped over lilies, croaking happily. Unlike the other frogs, though, this one carried the golden light of a pictogram above its slimy head. Awel hopped into the water again with a loud plunk and gave a few kicks of his small but mighty legs before...

The stag grunted as he heaved himself from the pond, tossing a glare back at its depths. Koi weren't supposed to want to eat frogs. Awel-Moss had so narrowly escaped with his life there, almost losing himself to the vacuum of a well-fed fish's mouth. As he shook, the stag returned to his original black and white coloring. His fur, as usual after a swim, was wild and messy and plastered just about everywhere it wasn't supposed to be. 'Maybe the sun will dry me enough?' A vain hope for the stag, but a hope nonetheless. It was then that Moss spotted Seed beneath the willow. He looked... different than when they had played at the Lightbringer's convention, didn't he? The hart brushed the thought away as he moved over in the other's direction, lowering his bulk to the ground close enough to not be in his space, but far enough that if he did not want to visit, that would be fine as well.



@ChainArt

The stag's hooves squelched into the mud at the water's edge. The bank sucked at them, leaving imprints in the places he had walked. Momentarily the being paused, staring into the depths of the pool. Koi bobbed up to the surface, watching the pair of deer move at the edge of their home. A small smile crossed the once-koi's face. Remembrance momentarily colored his eyes as he reminded himself of the good times that had accompanied koihood.

Quietly Awel dipped his face to the cool water for a hearty drink. One of the less-sizeable koi swam into the shallows as close as it dared get. The being continued to lap at the water, seemingly unaware until the young fish got too close. Moss nudged the carp with his nose, a snort blowing out of it as the young thing's mouth nipped at the offending protrusion as if it questioned why it was there. A rather large splash later, the fish had returned to the depths of the pond. It seemed that they only knew what Moss was if he were in his deer form and not covered in the magic of the forest, be it animal magic or otherwise.

Moss rubbed his cheek against his inner foreleg to dislodge the water that had gotten splashed into his eye. Once it was clear, he craned his neck to look at Aneirin curiously.

Thank goodness she began with the only question he could answer. But if he did, would she ask more? It was always difficult meeting new deer that did not know of his disability.

"Awel."

The stag introduced himself with the name the Gods had allowed him, and that being the only word he could ever say. It was apparent that his voice did not sound capable of real speech. He sounded animalistic, feral. Gently, the beast let his demeanor soften. She was just as fearful as he was, after all. There was no need to make the fear greater by holding a stiff demeanor.

Awel-Moss tilted his head as if to ask her name as well, and what made her so scared. He allowed his neck to relax, lowering it to a more appropriate level in hopes that his large frame would not intimidate her too much. Maybe, just maybe she would be good company to him this quiet night, wherein every other deer seemed to be asleep.

As the doe reached to catch his scent he inhaled hers as well, committing it to memory. Sometimes he would meet others that never offered their names because he could not ask for them, and so their scent became their name. Sometimes deer in this place did not go by the names their pictograms say they were. He just assumed that they had given themselves different names. Moss had called himself Moss, whereas the Twin Gods called him Awel. Now that he was unable to speak, he also called himself Awel. The Gods were clever to make pictograms easy to pronounce in the language of the deer.

The stag's tail wiggled curiously as he watched her demeanor change from scared to confused. Why was there any confusion? This confused Moss as well. Only when she spoke did he understand. The stag nodded once in affirmation. Yes, one of his names was Awel.

She was more perceptive than most, it seemed. Moss gave a gentle, warm smile showed his permission to act as she wanted, grateful for her manners. The beast shifted his weight to rest most on one back hip. Sometimes it was tough carrying so much around, but the stag managed this and would do so all winter, while food became more scarce. The dirt beneath his hoof might bear its imprint for awhile. It was difficult to tell that he was only the size of a true Endless Forest inhabitant, there was so much thick winter fur already covering him.

The crickets made light chirps in the dying grass. It was as if they tried to keep Summer alive for one more night. Winter was fast approaching, leaving Autumn in its wake. Autumn here was always short, he'd heard. And tonight, it seemed, it had already begun to snow. The flakes started and fell silently. Moss moved his gaze from Quadda a moment, looking up, only to be rewarded with an icy flake on his thin-furred nose. When he brought his gaze back to her, it was affirmed in his mind that it definitely was going to be a cold night.

He allowed the close contact, more for the fact that her fur was definitely not long enough to keep her warm. Awel had warmth to spare for her, anyway. He watched her, processing the words she had spoken. The first one, eh? Well, she definitely hadn't met Oriana, then. Of course not, considering she must be a newer deer to the forest than he, as he had not seen her before until this dark, snowy night. His eyebrow still raised, though, questioning momentarily. There weren't many deer of his coloration in this place, to be sure. Many more deer among the trees had similar markings to her: consistent dark fur. It made him appear funny, with all of these bright patches of white that seemed to glow when the moonlight hit them. It made his face appear as if it were a moon itself, the light reflecting off of it.

Needless to say the stag had found difficulties hiding in the past, with such a vibrant coat.

The stag's back was now peppered with white dots, slowly melting into his fur. A tiny mound of them had begun to collect in the crook of the three-pronged branch of his antler, only to be blown from its position by a slight movement. Moss had noticed her game of catching the little frozen drops on her tongue. He grunted in amusement before joining in. His own dark, bruise-purple tongue stuck out from his face, lapping up a flake. It was not nearly as satiating as a swig from the pond, but it was definitely fun to try and catch them before his breath melted the little white precipitation. A wide smile graced his face this time, admiring the beauty of the snow and all of its silence. Moss put his tongue back into his mouth and watched the slowly whitening world around them.

The stag was surprised that she had even asked the question. In answer he made room for her to rest at his side and motioned with a nod that this was alright. Moss was a warm individual and did not reject company just because it was female. He actually quite enjoyed close contact for no other reason than it meant kinship to him. He considered all deer and other creatures to be kin, for they all shared the space with him. Maybe this was reminiscent of his history, living in such a peaceful world before this forest became his home. One thing he preferred about his deer form, though, was the ability to get close to another for long periods of time. When he was a Koi, it was rather difficult to huddle with another.

As soon as she was settled, Awel resumed his scanning of the area. He could feel her heartbeat, and found it to be much quicker than his own. Was she always scared? There was no need to be. Moss was a creature of constant peace, after all.

The stag allowed it, though he could feel the single flower slip from its place among the greenery he carried on his tines. It was not bothering, as the stag wore them more for their smell than their number or looks. Hyacinths were his favorite flower in this place. He was often randomly gifted with them by some who came to visit, and so always had a heavy bouquet on his pristine antlers. The only sign of wear on them was the bleaching of the sun. There were no oddly-placed grooves, no signs of him ever locking them into anything hard enough to cause damage, not even a single flower looked as if it had been mangled. In truth, the only time he used those antlers was when he wanted to remove unruly points or bits of velvet. This was the only time he would assume a fighting stance, and the opponent was always a soft birch tree. Birch bark was gentle enough to do the job without marking up his tines.

He studied the female out of the corner of his eye, trying to keep from staring at her. He believed staring at females was something one didn't do, maybe out of fear that he may become like any other stag that went lustily after every doe he saw. No, he felt only respect for does. They carried out many important jobs that allowed him to be lazy and choose when he wanted to play with fawns. It was a little bit of a masculine thought, truly. The stag let the thought slip away into the recesses of his mind. He should focus on enjoying the company that presented itself.

The stag nearly laughed at her display. Apparently, these flowers were sweet enough for her as well. When she asked where they had come from... the stag lost himself in thought. How to explain? It did not take long for the stag to figure out exactly how to tell her where they came from. Drawing a single hoof from beneath himself, the stag began to scratch at the ground. Slowly the symbols emerged: a map. The Great Oak was drawn in the center, and little divots marked the places these flowers grew. They were numerous, as nearly all the patches of flowers in the forest were Hyacinth. Poppies grew as well, but were fewer and mostly kept to the darker parts of the forest. As he finished his artwork, the stag again placed his hoof beneath his body.

We can, if you want. His thoughts echoed what he would have said had he a voice to do so. These flowers never seemed to die, whether it was ice cold or hot and dry. That was probably the magic of the forest at work. Carefully the stag stood, trying his best not to jostle or bump Quadda.

He waited for her to join him on their feet, and moved at a slow pace, picking and choosing his footfalls carefully even though it did not seem that way. Some distance away the Oak's branches were being slowly covered in snow. The tree's beautiful hum would do nothing to stop the flakes from weighing on her branches like they did every winter.

As quickly as they had left the spot that had warmed them, the pair came upon what was thought by Awel to be the widest expanse of hyacinth in the forest. It grew just at the edge of the Birch, very close to the shelter of the Playground and within sight of the Great Oak's mighty shape. There were no trees to interrupt it and the hill it lay on was very tall. The pond was within gazing distance as well. This particular patch happened to be Moss' favorite, only because in the daytime it provided him with ample place to sunbathe.

He was curious as to her movements, watching the doe rub her face in the blooms. She must very much like them. He was glad for that, as the female would not mind if he did similar things. All too suddenly he lay in the flowerbed, falling to his side. Flowers were a nice thing, and always seemed to spring back to life after he lay down on them. Did he know their name? Maybe. He often neglected to think of the name of things and just enjoy that they were there. Could she read?

Hyacinth was the name he scrawled on the ground in slightly messy handwriting.



[Would you mind helping me get the gray pelt, orca mask, and Noh antlers please? The deer you are next to is the deer I need them on.]

[Thank you very much~! That's my new character I adopted from Tuhka. She's called Spring.]

The stag just shrugged. His eyes held that he was sorry she could not understand, but that it was alright. Why would she cower? He just took advantage of her position and stretched to place a flower behind one of her ears. This doe had obviously felt pain before. There really wasn't a need for her to become so afraid, though. That means these. He attempted to show with the gesture. Awel waited for her stance to soften. He placed another flower next to the word for emphasis.

He was glad to hear some of the bad thoughts float away with the sigh, her breath mingling with the breeze that always seems to take bad things away and bring good scents. From his position on his side, the stag watched snowflakes alight on the flowers. His smallish tail flicked a little, portraying happiness that matched his smile. There was no need for fear or resentment when there were so many beautiful things to explore here. Aside from the odd Nameless or unruly fawn, there really was not much that bothered Awel. This was a good place, he had good company, and he was happy. The stag let out a comfort-filled sigh and flicked his ear, where an errant flake had melted. The water droplet that formed when it melted felt funny, like a bug. Easily though, it was flicked away by a gentle shake of just the ear.

He held still for her, staring directly back with a smile that touched even his eyes and left little creases at their corners. When one looked into his face sometimes they could make out his wrinkles. It seemed like years of smiles dwelled in little creases at the edge of his eyes and two around his mouth. Maybe it was due to days in the sun. He did not even know his age, whether he was young or old, all he knew was that he had smiled much too many times for his face to gracefully handle. The product of this: wrinkles.

When she touched his neck he held still briefly. He did not want to startle her. She seemed more frail to him now that he realized her soul was tormented by this thing called fear. This was another moment Awel found himself grateful for his peacefulness.

The stag did not know much of a warm place for them, but Quadda was correct that this place was a bit chilly. The stag rocked to his feet, peering into the darkness around them. Where would be the warmest place? The valley at the Playground? The Oak? Probably the Oak. He again took the initiative and moved forward. They would find someplace warm. It already was the middle of the night, anyway.

Each footfall was gentle as they worked their way through the trees. Sometimes Moss would forget that he shouldn't, and walk through the trees. Blue smoke and a high-pitched noise accompanied the motion. After the one time, though, Moss made sure he did not walk through any more trees. They were loud!

Standing at the foot of the pond, Aneirin's ears perked forward. Her eyes watching the clear rim of the waters as they reached as far as they could inward before they had to descend back again. Her vision, however, switched from the edge of the pond toward the middle where a small school of koi swam together. They were pretty fish, really. The way their scales glittered depending on what colors they had.
Stepping forward, the doe lowered her own face toward the gleaming waters. As she drank, she caught sight of the lone koi who'd ventured forward to nip at Awel. Only then did she sort of piece things together.
I wonder...
"It's almost as if you two know each other," she said, lifting her head when the brave koi dipped back toward its group. She'd often heard of deer who had lives before this one. That actually remembered it before coming over to this one. Had Awel's past been a part of this pond?