<=To chapter 5 * To chapter 7=>

Author's Notes: X_x This one was a bit of a struggle. I intended to write out the fawn's entire fawnhood, but it looks like it's gonna be spread over another chapter.
If you couldn't figure out that whole "source" pointing out things last time, it's clearer this time. No, he's not crazy. XD
Well, here's

Origins
Chapter 6

~*~
The forest was in the midst of celebration.

Everywhere the fawn went, parties were breaking out as numerous spells were cast back and forth between deer, trying out the new “sets” that had been created.

He had found this place was called the Endless Forest, and it was watched over – as well as created by – the Twin Gods. It was a sanctuary for deer, filled with magic and peace.

Currently, there was a special event going on known as Mardi Gras. The young deer had been “born” in the middle of it. To add to the fun, deer who normally couldn’t keep “sets” for long were allowed to keep them as long as named adults.

It was because of this that the fawn found himself looking very odd after emerging from one of these spell parties.

Wandering over to the Forest’s pond, he gazed at his current look. A mask that looked oddly familiar now covered his face. He’d heard the name before. It was called the “real deer” mask. For some reason, this brought a small pain to his heart.

But, ah! He finally saw why his head felt so heavy. The big white antlers adorned his crown, one of the biggest pairs of antlers in the Forest.

Well, those had to go. They would tire him out before the day was done.

Rather than “sneeze” off all the spells, he opted for the easy way to get rid of them. He’d heard about the pond’s cleansing powers…

He dove in.

And turned into a frog.

“Whoa,” he croaked.

He didn’t remember anyone mentioning this part!

Taking advantage of his newly-gained swimming abilities, the young deer took a few laps around the pond.

He reemerged, shaking off the excess water before glancing at his reflection again.

Spell-free as a newborn.

He frowned at this.

Newborn.

Where had he come from anyway?

Certainly he hadn’t just appeared out of thin air in the Forest one day.

He’d seen it happen with other fawns, but that couldn’t be how they were born. Every deer had to have come from somewhere, had to have parents—

Parents.

Who were his parents?

He felt like he should know.

With ears drooping, he went to find a suitable place to sleep for awhile.



The “shing” sound of spell-casting caused him to stir. Getting up and stretching, the fawn peeked out from the tree he had decided to sleep in for the time.

Funny thing about this forest – the trees were only solid when you wanted to rub against them.

His gray eyes caught sight of a party going on by the giant tree known as the Old Oak. Remembering that he had washed away his looks the other day, the young deer joined in.

A few moments later, he bowed farewell, trotting away to judge the “damage”.

That strange source in his mind told him he looked like a cross between a skunk and a goat. Curious what that meant, he went to get a look for himself.

The young buck gazed at his reflection in the calm stream, ignoring the twinge of his mind insisting this was familiar. A black mask with white marks around the eyeholes stared back at him. It wasn’t as long as the “real deer” mask, but still elongated his face, and above that was a pair of black antlers, short but sharp-looking.

‘Like daggers,’ his mind supplied.

He wasn’t sure what a dagger was, but the image his mind conjured up had him agreeing. They did seem dagger-like.

Together, they had him resembling a young goat.

The pelt he now wore was black with a white back and stomach. It did seem like a skunk’s fur in pattern. Satisfied, he decided he’d keep this look for now.

His reflection reminded him he still didn’t have a pictogram, and thus didn’t have a name. He was supposed to choose one in order to get his own sign.

‘How about Scapegoat?’ that source in his mind teased.

He scowled at that.

He wasn’t too keen on the name, but something told him it seemed right.

‘A picto that looks like a landscape while your…“true name” is Scapegoat then?’ the source went on. ‘It could just be read as Scape?’ it haggled.

That voice was getting clearer lately. He wondered if he should be worried about “hearing voices”…

The young buck swore he heard snickering. ‘Just go with it,’ it laughed.

He huffed. ‘Well, fine,’ he decided, grudgingly. ‘Just don’t expect me to answer out loud.’

Was that a smirk he sensed? ‘Nahh, I wouldn’t suggest doing that. But it’s not like others don’t hear voices too.’ He swore that “source” was getting a kick out of this.

He blinked, shaking his head.

Whatever that voice was it had given him a good suggestion. He’d go ask the Twin Gods for a pictogram for the name Scape.

Later.

Right now, he wanted to try out different pelts.



Numerous spell parties later, the fawn now calling himself Scape sported a white number with black wing marks that had red dots between the feathers. It was much nicer than that black and white one he’d learned was the fawn version of the Orca pelt.

His nose picked up the scents of some deer nearby. Wanting to show off his new look, he ran to find them.

When he did, he paused to stare for a moment. The whole group of them were moving in an…odd way. A way he’d never seen before. They were tapping their feet in a rhythm that seemed catchy. He wasn’t sure what to do.

‘They’re dancing,’ the source helped him out.
He blinked, tilting his head at them. ‘Dancing? What the heck is dancing?’

‘A fun way to express joy? I dunno. It’s just supposed to be fun.’

The young deer raised a brow at that. ‘“Supposed to be”?’

‘Oh, just try it already. It can’t hurt.’

Shrugging to himself, Scape approached the group. The few deer closest to him bowed in greeting before returning to their fun. He bowed back, watching the way their feet moved. He wasn’t sure how to start at first, but after watching long enough, he felt his feet begin to tap a rhythm, and a song filled his head. It sounded very cheerful, encouraging the fawn to dance some more.

‘I think I like dancing…’