It was just before dawn in the forest. The land was anticipating the sun to warm it, silently waiting with thick impatience. Birds had yet to break into song, although they did flap noisily between the tree tops. The sound was rather abrupt, almost rudely breaking the deafening silence that echoed in a pair of white ears.

Calm, cool, and steady against the anticipation, a stag stood atop the edge of a Birch Forest cliff. His eyes were closed, body rigid to stay on its pillars. The black and white being appeared almost regal, his antlers rising in a stark ivory crown rimmed with spikes. He too could feel the anticipation ticking the edges of the air, although he did not let it inside his mind. This was Moss' morning meditation, and he wouldn't let anything in that he didn't want.

Almost as if hungered for the stag, the light on the horizon began to rapidly edge toward him. It covered ground at an alarming rate, reaching to lap at the beast's fur within moments. Still, the stag remained unmoving on the outside. Inside, he drank in the warmth to slake his body's aches and pains that thirsted for it. He let his already warm heart beat with it, his pictogram flooding with light. This morning a conversion had begun, though nobody noticed.

Birdsong started like a leak of water: a dripping single note, to a trickle, to a slow and steady flow. The song flowed into Moss' ears and flooded him with a happiness that only it could give. In his mind's eye he could imagine each feather, color, and shape of those that sang the beautiful chorus. Outwardly, he smiled. A tingle had spread over his entire body, causing hair to stand on end and make him appear larger. The risen hairs allowed more morning light to reach his skin, warming even more what once was cold with the end of the night.

Finally, the being sighed and opened his eyes. A flash of light again momentarily blinded him, followed by children's laughter. A fawn had found a spell this morning while waking early beside its mother. Oddly enough, the spell had actually stuck to Moss. Before this morning, it wouldn't have even hit him. Before this morning, Moss was as immune to keeping magic as a Nameless. Today, though, he was as bright and beautiful as any bird. The fawn had cast the Peacock Pelt onto him.

Moss laughed out loud, a hearty and warm noise from deep in his chest. It was met with the child's giggles again, and both smiled at one another. Moss bowed to the fawn, his eyes glimmering with happiness. This place had finally truly accepted him. Apparently, so did the fawn, as it returned the gesture and the pair began to play. Moss danced around with the youngling, his bright colors a comedic show against the landscape, blue antlers bobbing up and down as he hopped about like a bird with four feet.

In the future, as he would contemplate this new appearance at the edge of the pond in the evening, he would realize how much it suited him and how much happiness it brought to others to see a deer unafraid to wear garish colors and play with everyone who wished to frolic. This look suited him.

A deep blue face framed with white and teal would smile back from the water, and Moss would recognize it as his own as the smile grew wider.








[I just want to remind everyone that this is not canon yet. I am still very indecisive on how I want him to look, so don't put this in your mossy headcanon yet.]