Last night I fell into a restless sleep. It has been some time since we have had fog this thick, this heavy. It’s lingered for so long. I was glad for the company of my mate, my son, and my son’s new friend. After the events of the evening, it was hard for me to let myself relax. But with Wesker around, I soon found my eyelids drooping, and sleep finally finding its way to me… and I welcomed it as best I could.
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I do not remember much of myself as a fawn before I came here. I don’t know if it is because my mind wishes it that way, or if it was because I was simply much too young. But every now and then, fragments of those times pop up into my mind…usually when I am sleeping. They take me to those days which I would rather forget..
Mountains were my home. Tall mountains with thousands of trees that seemed to stretch on forever. It was here that I opened my eyes for the first time. Winter was long here, but it was worth it for the summers. At least, that is what I heard from others in the herd I was born to. It was a small herd, mostly made up of does. Then there was my father.
Nowhere near as large as, well, say, Wesker, Sir Iaurdagnaire, or even Virgil.. But from where I came from, he was a formidable foe. He had survived many battles of the rut and battles for his life, and he had scars on his flank to prove it. He was not a kind stag. He didn’t have to be kind; that was not his role in life. He simply needed to make sure his fawns he fathered would make it to the next year. And that his does were not harmed.
I do remember the day he looked at me. With total disgust. My fur, my pelt, had never been the same color since the beginning; a bluish tint from the start. I, of course, smiled at him. I didn’t know any better. And then, his first words to me:

“Get it out of my sight.”

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For whatever strange reason in the next few weeks, my mother did not abandon me, although my father pressed, almost threatened her to. Thankfully he was busy with the other does and their fawns that he often forgot about her. I know now that instinct was probably pressing on her to abandon me; I was not a normal fawn. But she cared about me as much as she could, and she also often wondered aloud if I was a messenger of the kami; the gods where I came from. The other does were curious too. Maybe that is why I was allowed to live. Because my father was met with so much resistance.
One evening, as we all grazed near a clearing, there was a strange rustle and pungent scent nearby. It brought fear to the herd, which in turn frightened the fawns, and nearly brought confusion. My father gave the command to stay in line and follow him further into the forest, but before he could finish, we were rushed by a creature I had never seen but only heard of: wolves. Panic rushed the herd, and they made a mad dash for the mountain.
In the forest, we are all one color. We look like one intimidating beast. Until one sees me. I stand out like, well, a blue deer. All the wolves had to do was follow me, and they had no problem hunting. It wasn’t long before they had cut one of the elders off from the herd, and.. I don’t think I need to explain the rest. Everyone was terrified when they reached the mountain. As we passed my father, he brushed up against my mother, hard. I heard what he said. Even though I was young, I knew enough that it wasn’t anything nice.

“You should have left her to the wolves.”

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For the next two weeks, the wolves knew how to find us. They simply looked for me. We lost three fawns and two elders. It was then that my father commanded my mother to get rid of me, or he would do it himself. And it would not be the way that she wanted it to be. It was then that she made her choice: she knew of a place where I would finally belong, and have a chance to live among others of my “kind”. They would leave that night.
When evening came, deep, thick fog took hold and my parents drove me through the forest to another, the wolves following at our heels. I could hear their howls; I imagined their breath on my flanks. Then, the strange forest came into the clearing.

I suppose the rest is history, now. I know I’m dreaming, but I don’t feel like I can wake myself. My legs are twitching; I hope I do not kick anyone accidentally. I hope no one can hear me whimper in my sleep. If I could only forget this; make it go away. But it keeps coming back.

Only when the fog is here.


(the story that really follows what happens here is this.. but I wrote it beforehand.
http://endlessforest.org/community/suteko-abandoned-child )