There was restlessness in the birds that day as they flitted among the trees. She followed them all day, eyes on the sky, and wondered what had made them so. Was there an illness spreading among the feathered folk? Had a fox made a mess of its kill and left it unburied? It was a thing she did not know, and those always worried her. It did not take long for that same restlessness to seep from the birds into her.

However generous the birds were with their moods, they were quite closed-beaked about everything else. The Gods had already willed it to be dark by the time she finally gave up on her whistled pleas and croons and retreated to the Pond to rest. There was peace among the willows even at night time and a special sort of serenity among the koi (they, at least, did not seemed bothered by much other than frogs and flies), but not much else. None moved or played this late, and the restless still held on to her, refusing to be soothed. So, after a moment's deliberation, she resigned herself to her fate and stood once more, then ventured slowly into the dark.

It was a stupid move, she realized almost immediately, even before the trees closed off the way back. Navigating the forest could be difficult at the best of times, for it was as fickle and playful as the Twins. So she pressed forward, near blind, leaping and fleeing at the tiniest sound until she was as lost as lost could be. Sometimes that was the only way to feel the path that led to all places, placed there by the Gods themselves. They would not wish her into danger, certainly. Unless they wished somebody else out of hunger...

She supressed a gulp and moved on. Another sound had her silent and motionless, the previous thought fleeing out of her head at the same speed fear flew in. There was someone else here. Her nose twitched as she filled it with scents, trying to discern their identity. Fur smelled different on deer and wolves, and the demonics carried their own tang, sometimes pleasant but all the more dangerous for it...

The scent was gathered, pondered over, then recognized. The path's unravelling was good, she decided, for the Gods had led her well. She thanked the Gods in her mind and proceeded with a bit more of a hop in her step, cracking a few twigs to signal her arrival. Until she could glimpse the smell's origin, darker than darkness and lying prone on the ground.

And then she clamped her lips shut, for behind them lay a cry hastily stifled. There was another smell in the air, hidden from her by leaves and merciful oblivion that was now lifted. Another smell, mixed with Caesar's once before and, dreadfully, once again. Harm.

"Caesar?" Softly, at the prone one. "Asleep?" The injured were not to be disturbed, that was known. And yet, she was being rude, distracting death as it lulled him to sleep. Quite brazen of her, really. "Caesar?" But she was quite unwilling to let it have its way.

His greeting was too loud for the silent night and her ears, making her wince and almost disappear back into the night. But then he shot up, familiar and eager, and hobbled closer. Even in his state there was grace in the stag's step, and she remembered how easily he had danced for her before. Indeed, it was marred and incredibly saddening in its persistence, but grace nonetheless.

The thought was too big for her to understand fully, however. So when he came close enough to greet, surprising her a little with the familiarity of it, she simply leaned into the touch by instinct, stretching upward like a cat might. It was not often that she got to do that. Relishing the rare closeness by no conscious thought of her own, she repaid it just as gently and in kind.

"Missed too," she murmured when they parted, eyes wideningas they took in the wrap on his hoof. She looked up sadly, fearfully, smelling the pain more acutely than blood now and feeling it spark an inner tumult of her own. "Why hurt, Caesar?" then, hastily, "Chain?" The silent sister was not there. Why, she did not know. And those things she did not know always worried her.

(Me too! <3)

She appreciated the apology and accepted it with a flick of her ear and a small, serious nod. It masked well how silly she had felt for a moment, jumping out of her skin when a familiar was in sight. But only a moment, and thus the solemnity of her response.

She frowned a little as she pondered his answer. Looks could be deceiving, that was true. It was also true that most of the time they were not. “Wasn’t... someone else?” She pressed gravely, staring up at him with clear eyes. She could not make them opaque, so that he could not see just how much she wished to believe him. But she also remembered the last time Caesar had been 'clumsy'. The chase, and the flight… mostly her own flight. Then there was the last time she had fled, a fawn left in her wake, not suspecting a thing as that time’s ‘someone else’ tore it up.

It was not a good thing to remember in the dark of the woods, so she tried to hide her shiver beneath an eager nod when he spoke of Chain. Yes, it would be good to visit her. She was sedate, and peaceful, and her mere presence could make her feel peaceful too. Together they could be alone without being lonely, and simply observe the forest around them. It did so love to flaunt its grandeur, but only for an
audience utterly captivated.

(No problem Ivy, hope you're better now! ;D )

She breathed a sigh at his response, feeling somewhat relieved. He seemed content, happy even, and that made her worry subside. "Good." Indeed, peace always was. But there were times when one could not outrun trouble. When your legs could not flee any longer and save you, nor those close to you. On such days hurt came, and fear, for battle was not a forest her spirit could roam unharmed. Why did it even grow? "Why fight, Caesar? Others."

She cocked her head and looked at the raven stag inquiringly as he spoke. Past forms? What an odd thing to say. Her ears swiweled forward as she wondered what stories her dancing friend hid in his feathered heart.

She cocked her head as she thought about it. She could understand not wanting to be... messed with. Messed. Messed with. But why not simply walk away then? Trust the Gods and your legs to get you as far as need be? To protect oneself one need only carry oneself away, away from danger. On the other hand... Her eyes followed his gaze as it fell to the injured hoof. If something were to happen right now Caesar wouldn't be able to run at all, woud he? So many questions welled up, begging to be asked, but stronger than all that was the evident pain he was in, and tiredness. So she decided against prying, and said nothing at all.

Wordlessly she shook her head as Caesar spoke of his hoof and supressed a gulp. She moved obediently in the indicated direction, closer to where the darkness was deeper and no light reacher her eyes. It was good place, and not far away, but still but still she kept to the stag's uninjured side as they walked, fearful of tripping him up or otherwise causing a fall.

She ducked her head curiously at the moss as he spoke, her eyes wide in the dark and still nearly unseeing but noting his tone and wondering what warranted it. Only barely could she glimpse the familiar softness of lines, the curve of black upon black, and it took her some moments before she finally realised what it was she was seeing in the dimness.

"Nest," she stated with some surprise. Indeed it was, to her eyes at least. Soft with moss and decked in feathers, it was a luxury she was surprised anyone would mind, especially Caesar with his injury. Her enthusiasm somewhat curbed by the presence of illness, she plopped down next to the raven stag after he had settled himself. However slight, the motion was enough to send a cloud of smaller feathers upward, their blue sheen betraying them in the dark as it complimented them did during the day. She could feel their phantoms settling on her so she shook her head, ears flapping to and fro, and blue danced once more in the dark.

She nodded seriously at Caesar's explanation and looked into the darkness. It looked back into her with the colour of hurt. She wondered about Chain, imagining how it would feel to stay only where the ground was high and the air clear. Where the silence was near-absolute, but where sometimes even the swift-hooved brother could not go. What a high price to pay! "Miss her?" Softly, without turning her head and keeping her gaze still. It something between a question and a statement, and she could not say with certainty which was hiding behind which.

(Muse, where hast thou gone? Sorries T-T)

She heard the sound a moment before Caesar did, ears first twitching and then snapping towards it as it sounded from a smaller distance. Her legs repositioned beneath her, going from relaxed to ready to run, but she did not yet stand up. Carefully, carefully, she peeked over the curve of Caesar's back (even when lying down he was taller than her!), eyes straining to make sense of the black...

Caesar's beak did not lie still among her curls. Its movement jolted her head slightly from side to side as serious, terrifying words tumbled out. To go? To flee? To leave him alone, here, in the dark? She had considered it, even expected it, but now her gaze slipped from the darkness and towards him, insecure. Can’t, she wished to whine imploringly. Can’t, Caesar, not right. Except that she could, and probably would. After all, she already had.

Her throat pulsed with agitation and not a small amount of guilt as Caesar stood up and she followed, not wishing for him to roam too far away of herself to be left behind. Keeping close as he shouted into the dark, she puffed what little fur she had and listened intently for the thing that was now moving to the other side of the glade. Barely rustling the branches now it knew it was noticed. Circling.

And then moving upward.

Surprised by the direction, she craned her head backwards and desperately tried to find the thing with her eyes, as the rest of her was reminded of the promise the dear raven stag had requested and acted on it. She would later wish that her heart wasn’t in it, and lie herself to sleep. But now her legs betrayed her, slipping on the slick feathers and soft moss. She stumbled backwards with a startled tweet, and bumped heavily into the now seated, still wounded stag. A light pattering of falling leaves and broken twigs sounded as debris was moved by the creature above.

Placeholder. I'm so sorry this is taking so long, but I'm swamped with exams and an 89% chance of a family thing/travel over the weekend, so I'll only be able to respond next week. I'm sorry! <3