The little fawn began to notice the decay around the early evening when he woke. He studied a cloud of flies quite intently as they buzzed and flew over his mother. He didn’t bother to stop them, they were simply too fascinating to resist. Besides, it’s wasn’t like his mother didn’t mind their company.
After a few hours of staring at the dense black cloud of tiny scavengers, the small fawn heard the raspy call of a crow only inches behind him. He screamed in surprise and looped around face to face with not one, but two crows perched on separate branches. One had white wing tips, an oddity among the species, but the other had an even stranger likeness, a white beak.
“Assa! By, this little fyeul is hangin’ around the hause with this ol’ dead hinny, eh Debit?” The white-beaked one said. He was speaking in such an old form of language that the fawn didn’t even to begin to comprehend it. He merely took it as disorganized jibberish. The crow with the white-tipped wings pecked his companion and chided, “Ah, haddaway Credit! Be nice to the young hinny. He don’t look much canny by the looks of him.”
Perhaps we should detour away from our story to briefly talk of these two. Debit and Credit were born in a nest not far from the old oak. They were the last surviving nest mates and unlike other crows who simply went their solitary ways. When they flew off they decided to become companions and travel about together. Their story is rather dull, yes? So with that let’s continue with our orphan fawn.
“Ah, bluidy el’ Debit, Les joost geet on, ya?” the brash Credit sighed. “Hoo ‘bout w’ take the hinny with us?” Debit asked his brother, a sudden gleam in his eye. “The poor little bastard… it’s almost neet. Let’s take him, Credit.” Debit flew down from his branch and perched himself on one of the fawn’s little nubs of antler. Credit said nothing more but swooped down to follow and grabbed the fawn’s ear with his talon’s tightly.
