Fireflies illuminated patches of violet flowers in the dark. They moved back and forth like pendulums, lulling into security those that took brief moments to witness the seductive dance. A gentle beauty yawned and rose from among the blooms, stretching. Her dancer's legs barely seemed to support her as she stood on her eight toes and tossed her head back. Each muscle stretched as the doe tried her best to shake off the slumber she had just awoken from.

Spring caught herself, fearing a fall mid-stretch. Mint eyes glared, tiny black pupils pointed at her hooves. For being so graceful-looking, she did have an issue keeping herself upright unless she was running. The doe assumed her awkward startled-fawn stance. Hmph. I can't ever seem to get this right. Originally, when the other deer looked, they saw a graceful young doe. However, upon further observing, one would find that she was all legs and clumsier than Bambi on ice. The only time the doe ever felt stable was when she was bounding over hills and through glades, running at top speed. After all, Ri had lots of practice catching herself and that was what running was really about: Falling forward and catching yourself before you hit the ground. At least, that is what the doe thought to allow herself to sleep at night.

Grass tickled the sensitive skin between her toe-joints. It was forward-march from here to the pond and Spring was determined not to fall this time. Maybe, if she trotted instead of moving about like a fawn learning to walk she would resist that inevitability. Ri always thought that there was some law of nature that kept her from walking normally. Even despite her big ears she could never maintain a proper balance without standing herself up like a newborn. Oh well. Maybe she could handle it this time.


Or... maybe not.

"Umph." And there she was, nose to the dirt again. Scraped knees again. Humiliation... again. Hills. Inclines always got her. "Owwwh." An audible complaint as she rose to her unruly hooves. "Why in the name of The Twin Gods can't I walk right?" She stomped those tiny hooves on the ground before finishing the little bit of descent to the pond with a low-hanging head. There, the doe practically threw herself into the shallows, taking a long drought of the cool water. It washed the dirt from her front as well. Spring took the time to preen between her own shoulderblades, grumbling to herself, ears ever pinned with discontentment at herself. The way others looked at her, though, it seemed as if she was discontent with the entire world. The steel gray doe with the funny speckles watched piebald fish dart through the deep end of the pond. "What in the world is wrong with me?" The whisper drifted over the lilies and threaded through the cattails. Damaged hair, dirt, a little blood, plants, and debris floated away from the doe as she watched those fish swim, envying their lack of legs.