Black hooves sank into the thick and cool mud of the pond’s shallows, carrying the deer a short distance into the water. He lowered his head and drank calmly, deaf to the steady approach of another. The air was coldly still and the water chilled his throat as he swallowed it. Silence filled the atmosphere, interrupted only the distant twittering of finches. And so the abrupt splash of quick hooves behind him caused the stag to look up uneasily and turn his head to the sloping bank, turning his ears forward. Another stag was sprinting towards him boldly, kicking up mud and pond water with his back hooves.
When he was close enough to distinguish the luminescent pictogram hovering above his head, Fledermaus was struck with a sudden alarm that tightened his throat and his heart skipped over a beat. But he hardly had time to react before he was rammed in the side by the intruder’s large, curling rack of golden antlers. Icy water enveloped the brown stag’s body as he collapsed sideways into the muddy shallows, disturbing the still surface into heavy ripples. Wincing, he looked upwards at the stag standing over him, the black of his pelt starkly contrasted against the bright gray skies and his ribbon-like antlers curling about the sides of his head.
“Well, would you look at who I’ve found.” Breathed the standing deer, his head lowered hostilely and his heavy exhales rising up in dissipating clouds as he spoke. It was a short while before the fallen deer gathered the nerve to stand again, neglecting to even shake his coat of the heavy mire. He began to falter a response.
“Wh-who are-”
The aggressor shook his head in an irritated manner, his antlers glinting, and snorted to cut him off. “You know who I am.” The larger stag held an air of haughtiness, confirmed by the complacent grin below his dark feathered mask. He obviously hadn’t changed in the slightest.
The other deer said nothing, but took a step backwards. Despite the bitter chill of his sodden fur, his own mask felt hot and uncomfortable against his face, and his legs were weak.
“What’s the matter now, oh brother? You’re not still a gutless coward, are you?” The smirk on his lips broadened. Again, the brown stag took no action other than averting his gaze towards the devoid and silent trees.
“Come on, then,” Masque said coldly, tilting his head to jab a sharp golden prong against the deep brown fur of the other deer’s neck, “find your voice, sweetheart.”
Fighting to keep a calm tone, the younger stag responded quietly.
“Why are you here?” With such a lack of inflection, it came out as more of a statement. Snickering, Masque relinquished the pointed ribbon-like tip from its threatening poise.
“Well my dear, if you think I’ve been looking for you, then I must admit you’re sadly mistaken.” He lowered his head and drank from the water they stood in, seemingly nonchalant to the reunion.
The younger deer stared incredulously at his brother, trying to think of how he possibly could have tracked him down after so much time had passed.
Masque looked up again, coolly.
“So, I’m sure you realize that your sudden departure left your dear family rather surprised. We couldn’t believe such a pitiful and weak fawn such as yourself would simply run away like that. Then again, I suppose it’s in your right nature to run away from things you don’t wish to endure. Perhaps I was expecting too much from you.” He ended with a dramatic sigh, looking up to the dim clouds.
“Tell me, Maus, did you not like me? Your own brother?”
Fledermaus grimaced behind the cover of his mask, both at the mention of that name and the flood of bitter memories that he had repressed for years. He chose not to answer the question. Masque’s narrowed his eyes and he cocked his head to the side, still grinning smugly.
“I do wonder what you look like now. You know, the last I saw of you, you were still only a daft little youngster.” He stared at his nervous brother expectantly for a few moments. “Well go on, then. Show your face.”
Reluctantly, Fledermaus lowered his head and rubbed his crow’s mask against a foreleg, knocking it free from his eyes. It hung loosely around his neck as he stood straight again, avoiding Masque’s amused watch at all costs. There were few things he disliked more than taking off his mask.
"My foolish little brother, all grown up." The older stag patronized. He could sense the great discomfort in the other deer, and relished every moment of it.
Just as he would have done when they were fawns.
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Gaaahhhhhhhh writing fail. My sincerest apologies to those who read through my dribble. But yeah, I just wanted to write about this scene for a while. My two deer are actually brothers, and they can't stand each other xD. I might possibly elaborate on the story behind this, but ehhh.