A doe twitched in her sleep, a sense of forboding crawling over her. Nightmares didn't haunt her, but, for some reason, she felt the sneaking feeling of dread. Her heart pulsed under a beautiful light-brown coat, delicate ears flicking nervously.
An owl hooted in the darkness of the night, and the doe woke with a start. She felt confused at her own sneaking sense of dread. She gazed lovingly down at her son, thankful for his comforting presence.
But her son was not present. The doe gave out a call of alarm, scrambling onto her dainty hooves. Her eyes grew round with fear.
"Chital? Chital, where are you?!" the frantic doe cried, her herd rousing around her. Her mate, the leader of the herd, stood worriedly nearby, looking at the distraught doe.
"Gome, what's wrong?" he asked, calmly approaching the doe as she frantically searched under the bushes around their sleeping place. The other nursing does eyes were wide as they nestled their waking young ones close to them, nervously flicking their tails, while the stags paced around the sleeping place, pawing the ground and shaking their mighty antlers to warn off unseen invaders.
"Pivald, Chital is missing!" Gome exclaimed, choking up as she raced around, her heart thudding. She ignored the dark-brown stag leader as he tried to calm her by nuzzling her shoulder. Gome could sense that Pivald was also very nervous for their son, his false signs of comfort ment nothing.
"We'll find him, Gome, he couldn't have gotten far. I'll send out a search party at dawn," he cooed, trying to lead his distraught mate back to her hollow in the ground. Gome choked back a sob and collapsed into her sleeping hollow, nervousness shaking her to the core. What danger had befallen her son? Was it to late?
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Chital took short, gasping breaths as he tried to calm himself. His dad would find him. He would be home by morning.
"They'll never find me here," he muttered, kicking a stone from the mud. The place was wet - and all scents were drowned out. The fawn resolved to move along, choosing a random direction, and pushed on. His parents could follow his scent as soon as he left this place.
His hooves made little noise in the still night as he trotted along, his ears drooping from tiredness. He should've stayed in his hollow with his mother and slept, then none of this would've happened. He noticed the pine and oak trees turn to birch as he moved along, and he flattened his ears. He was going farther and farther away from home.
He yawned loudly. He had to settle down, he would've been found before he woke up himself. He sat at the base of a large birch and curled up, his nimble legs over his head.

A sharp nudge brought Chival to reality. His eyes flashed open, and pale dawn light shone in his eyes. He scrambled to his hooves, smiling at the thought of finally going home.
But the deer was not a member of his herd.
The stag was enormous, his jet black pelt like a starless night. His mask was a terrifying deer skull, and through the eyeholes you could see yellow, glowing eyes. His antlers were off-white, displaying melting, lit, red candles whose wax dripped steadily onto the forest floor. His hooves scored deep marks in the churned ground, sending waves of fear from Chival.
Chival made a strangled gasp and pressed himself against the tree, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping with fear.
"W-who are you?" he said hoarsely, cowering in fear. The nightmarish stag simply made a growling noise deep in his chest, charged at young Chival, and gave a roar of rage.
Chival scrambled to his feet and raced away from the tree, being lucky and avoiding the attack by a fawn-step. The shadowy stag let out a loud bellow of undying rage, the candles from his antlers flickering as he shook his head in anger. The fawn cowered for a moment longer when the stag turned to him, its eyes glowing with hatred. It pawed the ground, head lowered, as it prepared to charge once again.
Chival didn't give it the chance. Before you could say 'fallen leaf' he was running as fast as he could, deeper into the birch wood. His hooves made a heavy thrumming sound as he bolted, swerving to avoid trees randomly. Thankfully, his size was an advantage when it came to agility.
The young fawn looked over his shoulder, checking to see how far the stag was behind him. But the mysteriously aggressive stag was gone.
Chival thought for a moment. The stag had not told him his name.
Chival dubbed him the Shadow.