2 Years Ago
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“Oh, little birdie! Are you trying to fly?”

The fawn’s huge smile beamed upwards toward the nest cradled in the leaves. A lone bird sat in the bundle of sticks, chirping pitifully and flapping its wings now and then.

“Are you all alone? Where is your mommy?”

The bird cocked its head.

“That’s alright. I don’t have a mommy either.”

The bird opened its mouth wide and flapped its wings again. The strange little fawn wasn’t scary, but it was a bit odd. Yet it seemed so warm and playful. If only the fledgling could get down to it.

“I know! I can be your mommy! I’ll teach you to fly. Well, I don’t really know how to fly but… I’ve seen other birds do it. And sometimes when I run, I really do feel like I’m flying and…”

The bird made a hurtling leap and landed with a soft ker-plop on the dusty ground.

“Oh! Are you alright?!”

The bird seemed to be perfectly fine. For a moment it sat still, bewildered at the change of scenery. And then began flapping it’s wings and chirping again. If only it could get off its own wobbly legs and into the air.

“Here, let me show you…”

With a bit of convincing and scrambling in the dust, the fawn managed to get the small bird onto his head.

“Alright, I’ll start out at a trot. You flap your wings and when I start running, you jump into the air. Got it?”

Somehow, the fledgling got it.

The fawn began to trot, and the bird bounced along, nervously gripping the fur on his head. The bird flapped its wings. Harder. Harder. Harder.

“Good, good! Circular motions! P… pull the wind and… push it behind you! Like that, good! You’re doing great!”

The bird flapped harder, eyes shut. His little claws lifted from the fawn’s head.

“Running in three… two…”

The fawn took off and the bird’s wings caught the burst of wind. It flew into the air.

The fawn skidded and spun around. He laughed giddily.

“Open your eyes!”

The bird opened its eyes. It was high above the ground! It was flying!

It dipped in the air, catching the wind currents. Adjusting each feather. It was born to fly. This is what it was made to do.

They ran through the forest, two creatures from separate worlds. One flying with his wings, one flying with his heart. The bird would occasionally lose its balance and dip towards the ground, and the fawn would offer encouragement until it would gain stability. It was quite the clumsy flier still. The fawn laughed as he watched the bird gain altitude. It was one with the air. With the trees.

The pond appeared in the distance. There were a lot of deer there, dancing and splashing in the water. Having a good time. It was a party. The deer loved the pond.

“Birdie, slow down…”

The bird kept going, lost in its newfound ability. As the two neared the pond, the fawn began to slow.

“Wait, birdie!”

The fawn skidded to a stop on the pond’s bank, ignoring the splashing, laughing deer in front of him.

“Stop!” He yelled over their noise, “There’s no air current above the water!”

And then…

A stag with big bulky antlers reared and his hooves were lifted into the sky.

The Sky. The path of the fledgling.

The fawn’s world had gone into slow motion. The bird smacked into the antler as the stag’s front legs hit the shallow water. The bird fell. Tumbled. Feathers. Air. Feathers. Then it hit the water.

“STOP!” The fawn screamed, “Everyone stop dancing!”

Pitiful cries. Mooing. No one liked to hear the loud cries of a fawn.

The fawn dashed into the water. It was thick. It pulled and pushed. The water didn’t want him to get to that bird. That poor little bird.

Deer dancing and splashing all around.

The fawn saw the lump of feathers floating on the surface. Then… a wing. A movement. Then… FLAPPING. Yes, it was alive!

Splashing, laughing deer. Hooves hitting water. Dancing.

The fawn didn’t care. He pushed through the water towards the struggling fledgling.

“I’m coming, birdie, hold on!”

Couldn’t they stop dancing? Didn’t they see the little bird in the water? Their sharp hooves… such sharp hooves…

The bird’s feathers were wet. It was trying to free itself from the water’s grip. But the fawn was almost there. The birdie was going to make it. He was going to make it…

SPLASH.

A HOOF. A DEER.

A deer’s body. Right where the bird should be!

No! No! NO! NOOOO!

THEY WERE DANCING ON TOP OF IT.

“GET OFF,” The fawn screamed, “GET OFF! NOOOOO. YOU EVIL, EVIL DEER!”

A few deer stopped. One cocked its head. The others kept dancing.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“MOVE YOUR HOOVES. YOU’RE ON THE BIRD! YOU’RE DROWNING HIM! GET OFF!” The fawn lowered his head and rammed it into the flank of the dancing stag, “GET OFF! GET OFF! GET OFF!”

“Jeez, take it easy there.” Another deer came up beside him.

Splashing. Hooves. Dancing. Many deer. Many hooves. So many deer. Deer everywhere. Anger. Get off.

Get off.

Feathers.

Get off.

The stag he was ramming laughed.

He laughed.

He laughed.

That horrible monster laughed.

“I didn’t see it. And even if there was one… it was just a bird.”

It was just a bird.

Chenaniah never saw the bird again.

And he never wanted to see another deer again.

EVER.

AGAIN.




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Yeah, that's the dream. :/ I told you it was nothing monumental. Chenaniah just has OCD or some other thing that makes him obsessed with this memory. It's like one of those nightmares that really isn't that scary but still terrifies you when you think about it. Also, this isn't all of his "past"; there will be more in the next blog.