This year, there will be a rutting season. I have heard nothing good of this season – my memories of the mortal world can only amplify the horror and dread I currently feel, knowing that I will soon experience such an unpleasant time of year for myself. Still, I find myself morbidly curious – sinfully so – as to what this season will bring for me. It will be a first, most certainly, for me. Should Seth and I still be as close and entwined as we had once been, I would not have to worry about the flippant toils of proud stags – but alas, I fear I will find myself without a suitable male companion, when the season comes, leaving me at the mercy of warring bachelors. Seth and I have drifted irreparably distant, you see. I am hesitant to say that we are no longer a couple, though it would ease my anxieties quite well. I still adore him greatly, and he will always hold a place in my heart. Yet…

I suppose I should finally put into words what has given my heart such distress, lately. In his absence, you see, I’ve grown rather fond of someone else. It pains me to be so frank; but the truth is there, and it isn’t as if it’s difficult to see where my heart truly lies. I feel like such a fool, such a disloyal and pathetic excuse for a girl; and lately, I have been finding myself thrown violently from one mood to the next. At some points, I am excited and giddy, like a fawn reveling in her first glimpses of childish love. And yet, the next moment I feel ashamed of myself, and utterly distraught at how betrayed my heart has left me. I hardly know what to do with myself, anymore…

It so occurred that after some time spent with Virgil, I happened to find myself in the company of my dear friend, Walter. We walked together for a bit, enjoying the serenity of the night. I tried to ignore the unease I felt between us. Since my last encounter with Seth, I feel that there has been a change in our relationship – even if ever so slight. Walter seems less settled around me; more pensive and quiet in nature. It’s something I’m not used to. But I am quite aware of the reason behind his sullen mood – I’m well aware of his feelings for me, and of the distress I must have caused when forsaking his company for that of Seth’s. Had we been in the same situation a few months earlier (and I dare say that we were, several times), I would have been irritated by Walter’s sulking, urging him to cheer up and to simply forget about me as a potential interest. Now, however, I found myself chewing my lip thoughtfully as we walked along, my heart as full and grave as it had ever been. I was not angry, not annoyed with Walter for continuing to pursue me, after all that we had been through – after the many, many times I had tried to shake him of the idea of having me as a romantic interest. Now, much to my own great anxiety, I felt quite differently. Quite differently indeed.

I can’t say exactly what the difference is in me, but I feel myself drawn to Walter with such an intensity I have never felt, before… More violently I long for his attention, more hungrily I lap up his affection; I am more inclined to forgive him for dubious acts, and certainly ever more sorrowful when we are forced to part. I inevitably feel that any company aside from his is inferior; and his appearance is always enough to brighten my mood instantly. When I am alone, I smile and think of the silly things he would do – offering me flowers from his antlers, dancing with me in some vacant spot of the forest, walking with me to the pond for a drink and a nap…

…But no! I do not love him! I could not possibly! I had – I have Seth, my beloved Seth; and Walter is but a friend of mine. Indeed, it can only be so. Even if it must be at Walter's expense, it would simply be improper for me to feel anything but friendly amiability toward my dear friend.




If only it were so.