The forest was busy with life. Birds chirped their songs in the trees, squirrels and rabbits darted from tree roots to the brush, seeming to dare one another into racing across the path of the oncoming stag. Alabaster, his head held low, paid it little mind. If they were slow enough to get caught up in his hooves, then so be it. The stag’s fur still hung off of his frame in several places where the fat refused to come back. His necklace thudded against his chest with each step. Alabaster was over being ill, thanks to his chance run in with Orinoco, yet his appetite still hadn’t returned.

He only ate now to appease his companions, and that was several mouthfuls under Zash’s watchful gaze. When the stag had become his mother, Alabaster couldn’t pinpoint. He didn’t really care either way as it was. Zash he could tolerate to some extent. He was interesting, the way he prattled on about a land that had ultimately killed him in his former life, yet he obviously still had utmost respect for.
If only I could find a way to get to that land…. The thought startled him. His mismatched eyes widened, his muscles freezing for the briefest moment. Was it possible? Could he find a way to that land? He felt an excited chill run through him. But…the opposing part of his mind questioned now, would it solve my problems? That brought a halt to the idea.

His excitement drained from his heart, replaced almost as fast with stinging disappointment. Few could get there, he understood that, but what he didn’t know was what it would accomplish. He didn’t know what he would find. Was his mother out there? The power behind the necklace that kept him alive? His father? He wasn’t sure. The mere concept that his parents, every answer he ever sought, was sitting just out of his grasp sickened him.

Frustrated, the stag clawed his hoof through the earth, feeling grass and dirt alike being plowed through the split of his hoof. With a mad shake of his crown, the young hart trotted on, wanting to run, to gouge his antlers into the trunk of a tree, to demand answers from the Twins themselves. Anything that would give him satisfaction. As he traveled, he could hear the croaking of frogs, the sound of water lapping gently against a bank. The pond. A place that hated him just as much as he hated it. The stag sneered, beginning to turn away, only to pause when a scent hit him. Moss.

Alabaster stood frozen for several heart beats, uncertain as to what to do. He hated the pond, but Moss…Moss always managed to bring peace. Maybe…just maybe he had a solution to his dilemma. At least the hart wanted to believe it to be true. Choppily the white spotted stag started to follow the scent, trying his best to ignore the agony and lonesomeness that clouded his mind as he drew closer to the pond, the monster reaching out, breathing its cold breath on his fur, caressing his face with an icy tendril of a finger.

@Sicily

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The stag could smell many things near the pond, mostly due to the moistness here being elevated. The sun dancing on the water caused the evaporation, creating a more dense and almost therapeutic air. Smiling, the stag caught the scent of succulent water plants, the dusty aroma of duck feathers, and the distinct odor of clean fish. The glittering water impeded his vision, and so he viewed the world through eyes that did not see... until those other senses called for his use of sight.

The Black and White's smile only broadened and warmed to greet his adopted. "Alabaster." The stag spoke with that gentle rumble, his voice like a powerful yet slow-moving river. The white-speckled stag was definitely growing braver, it seemed. This was very close for him to travel to the pond. It was unknown to Moss why the Speckled did not appreciate the water and the beach, only that he did not. And that that he did not was worth correcting, considering Alabaster may benefit from the therapies this place could provide to any deer... namely peace.

Moss' greeting was punctuated by a brief comforting nudge when Alabaster drew close enough for it, chasing away the chill of open air. To the Black and White, touch was an important way to express his emotions. It was no wonder why even strangers would come to snuggle up to him, if not for the comfort that seemed to exude from him. And Moss would only feel such a way to those that he felt he could, feeling only uncomfortable around those he deemed uncomfortable to be around. Now, the stag felt none of the latter. Alabaster was akin to being his child. There was no need for prickliness there.



@Key

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Moss bounded in the same direction upon seeing Faye, reaching and greeting her with a characteristically warm nuzzle. "Faye! I should be asking you that. Last time I really saw you you had been a bit worse for wear."

The stag looked his friend up and down. "You do seem to have healed well, and that gives me much relief!" He would neglect to mention her mangled hind limb out of respect for the doe. She was quite the good friend, even before Moss was given the ability to speak. That would not change.

(No need to apologize!)

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The stag's tail flickered to ward off a dragonfly, but that did not stop another emerald one from alighting on his second right tine. Moss was always quite still when he was relaxed. "I have been living." His reply was definitely broad, but Moss did not know how to reply any other way. How have you been? was such a broad question. A broad answer was required. "Are you mending well?" The stag asked, not even realizing what he had revealed. The Black and White knew that Alabaster had been sick, having smelled it of course. Naturally a deer would understand when another is weak or sick from scent, as well as body composition and behavior. Moss noted his gaunt form and wondered if he had been eating, or just gotten over whatever was plaguing him.

The little green dragonfly crawled forward to the tip of his bleached tine to take off, a light slapping of quick wings could be heard as it buzzed away. White antlers never did provide enough of a sun-absorbing ability, leading to less warmth. The deep green of cattail fronds provided more, and the dark brown earth at the water's edge more still. Moss's black fur was too hot for the poor bugs, something he was quite glad for.

(I'm going to give up on the color for now.)

The stag nodded in reply to his answer, once and slowly. Good. His mind bloomed at the second bit of speech, reminding him of gently waving plants, bright sunlight and cold winter with ice above his head. Each memory flashed by in an eye's blink. "Yes I have been, although I was not human when I was." Would he find it boring or upsetting that all Moss had been outside of the forest was a lowly fish? A glance to the slowly swimming beauties among the lilies was all Moss needed to decide what to say next. "In fact, I was much like these Koi here." Only my water was not magic. He need not explain as much as he had, a simple affirmative answer would have sufficed for Alabaster, maybe. Moss stated what he had anyway, though.

Maybe his past life had been the secret to his soul. Maybe he had always been this way, no matter the reincarnations of his past. Moss did not contemplate on why he was what or whom he was, exactly. He only ever contemplated how he fit among the energies around him. If the energies were completely negative with no chance of hope, then Moss did not fit there. Right now, though, the stag thought that he may be able to fit.

It'd be difficult to kill him with hugs. He's a master!

-


The stag contemplated the question for a moment. He did not know if he should tell Alabaster the only way he knew how to leave. "The only way I know how to get out of this place is a way I do not want you to ever use..." The stag was stern yet gentle with his words. "... I am selfish for it, Alabaster, and for that I am sorry. Life outside... is not worth death here." Punctuated by a shake of his head, the Black and White let the words fall out of his mouth. "There may be other ways, but this is the only one I know. I came here by death and I will most likely leave by it many years from now, but that is how it should be. It is not wise to give up one life in pursuit of another. You may just regret your choice later." A knowing smile and a nod followed those words.

It was life above all else Moss cherished. Each life brought an energy to the world, and each death brought a loss felt by many. Even those unknown to the deceased knew when a loss in their corner of the world was felt, and some even had the misfortune of feeling it too. Moss did admit to the selfishness of not wanting his Adoptive Son dead. He also admitted to his own regret of dying as his former self as well. He could never go back to that ever-more-peaceful existence, he knew, and he worried for the Speckled. "Why would you want to leave, if I may ask?" Yes, curiosity got the best of him.

The stag allowed his words to sink in, but his curiousity was only heightened. But others...they could get out of this place and return, alive and well, he thought. Was there some unknown price they had to pay? A sacrifice? A piece of their soul? He didn't know. How else was he supposed to fine the answers he sought? The restlessness in his heart?
He didn't want to be here any longer. The forest, the trees, the familiarity of it smothered him. He tensed and relaxed his muscles. But when Moss questioned him about it, he wasn't sure how to respond. Why do you want to leave? How much could I tell you, Moss? He thought.
"There are things that I must seek the answers to. And I figure the only way I can do that is by getting away from here," his response was quiet, "out of the forest."