Miracle Of Life (3)

"Running for her life
The dark rain from her eyes still falls
Breathtaking butterfly
Chose a dark day to live."

***

Ending winter, 2009

It had been snowing for a while when I found her. Being alone for a long time had made me slightly allergic to the sight of other deer. I kept my distance as I traveled deeper into The Endless Forest, ironically to a place called The Edge, which made me believe the one that had named the forest had just been out to impress its visitors, like me.
Yes, I knew I was not born in this lovely meadow but came from a place I still needed to discover. Which is exactly the reason why I was traveling, my fawnhood had been nothing but a blur to me. I am sure that some of you feel the same and would love to know more about where you came from and who was responsible of putting you there. I was eager to find out about my past, but also slightly afraid. Maybe my past had been horrible and maybe the Twin Gods had decided it was better for me not to know. That also caused my fear for other deer on this journey, maybe one of them was an old friend or family member. I didn't like to be surprised like that.

Despite me avoiding my fellow hoofed beings, I seemed to be attracted to one of them. Not in a romantic way, no. It was a little fawn, laying in a soft patch of dried grass. The only company surrounding it were fluttering, blue butterflies and a random doe in the distance, that seemed to take a run for it when I came closer. What bothered me most, leaving aside the fact the fawn was white as snow, was the absence of a mother. It seemed to be much like a newborn, one that a good mother would never leave behind like this. I decided to wait next to the sleeping fawn, guarding it until its parents would return. But they never did, at least not until I got impatient of waiting for over an hour.
I rose on my feet again and looked around me. After hopelessly bellowing for a while I became to realize this fawn had probably been unwanted by its parents. It was heartbreaking to see, but there was nothing I could do to save it. It was destined to die alone, surrounded by the winged creatures that magically survived the harshness of the season. With great effort, I was able to turn away from the innocent heart to continue my journey.

That was the first time in my life that I regretted my own gender.

Yours truly.

-----

"You cant run away forever
But there's nothing wrong with getting a good head start
You want to shut out the night
You want to shut down the sun
You want to shut away the pieces of a broken heart."

***

Ending winter, 2009

I could say that I had traveled for days, leaving my recent discovery far behind me. But then I would be lying. I had managed to walk away from the little fawn, but I hadn't moved an inch ever since. The image of a newborn crying for its mother, because it was starving to death, haunted my mind. It frustrated me, because there was nothing I could do about it. Fawns needed to be fed. By their mothers. Unfortunately I wasn't a mother, I wasn't even a doe!
Of course I could take the fawn with me, but it would be a hopeless case without the wondrous nutrition mother nature made in her own little doe factories. But then again, why was I even thinking of it? It had almost been a day, the fawn had probably died from cold and starvation. I should have been able to let it go by now, but part of me wanted to pay it a visit nonetheless. To pay some respect to the little creature that fought to survive, but never lived to open its eyes and see how beautiful the world actually was. Even though things like this made the world seem ugly. Very ugly.

The innocent shouldn't deserve to be forgotten like this and the mother who left it should die a very, very painful death. I could hear myself sigh saying that, I didn't have the right to speak. I didn't know the motives of the mother, but still I believed there was no justice in this world. Maybe she was right, maybe there were no Gods.

When I found the little one, still laying in the exact same place, I could feel something stabbing my heart. I hadn't been getting my hopes up, but still I couldn't prevent myself from being hurt. Slowly I walked over to the snow white fawn and I was surprised to see its belly was still moving! It was breathing! I couldn't believe my own eyes, so I blinked and looked again. Something else caught my attention; the butterflies hadn't left its side. In fact, the fluttering bugs were all over the little thing! Its face was completely covered in them and I decided to take a step back. I felt my legs shaking; were they feeding on it? Were these little, innocent monsters eating the young flesh of a dying fawn alive?! Quickly I stepped forwards, swaying my huge, white antlers at them. I bellowed and reared desperately, causing the butterflies to flee.
For a moment I was too scared to look, but let out a relieved sigh as I saw the fawn's face hadn't been torn apart by flesh eating bugs. Instead, I noticed a strange liquid around its mouth. I smelled it and found out it was nectar. My theory about the butterflies had been pretty close but still completely wrong.

They hadn't been feeding on the fawn. They had been feeding it!

Yours truly.

-----

"Close your eyes
For the night is falling
Fear no dark
For it's warm and safe
And looks familiar
As it comes approaching
Come with me
And I will take you."

***

Early spring, 2009

To be honest, I have never been the fatherly type. Even though a deep, secret, burning desire in my empty heart screamed for a child, I never gave in to it. I don't think a simple gentleman without a past or story would make a good father. Fathers are remarkable creatures you look up to as a tiny fawn. You admire him, love him, follow him everywhere he goes. You want him to teach you everything about life and deep down also about yourself, because he seems to know you better than you do.
The fact that I am talking about fathers like I am some source of experience is quite ironic, because there has never been a fatherly figure in my life. Of course, I have a father. Everyone that is naturally born has one. Too bad I never got to know him or my mother at all. Or have I? I have always had the feeling a piece of me is missing. A piece that is probably scattered around the forest and been run over by a million of my fellow deer, making it impossible to find.

Though I am proud to say that I am currently taking a bite out of that experience I have been missing earlier. The fawn I previously wrote about has become my companion and even though I don't consider it my own, it is still a child you have to look after. After the butterflies were so desperate about keeping her alive, I felt I had no choice but to take care of her myself. So I did and until now I keep being surprised by this wonderful creature. Her white pelt color is not the only thing unusual about her. For example, instead of eating grass and pine cones, which are a normal deer's diet, the poor fawn keeps trying to suck nectar out of flowers. The poor thing would take hours to fill her belly, so I convinced her to eat the whole flower instead. At least then she would be feeding on something!
Surprisingly, she copes well without mother milk. Apparently the butterfly nectar served as some sort of alternative for the rich nutrition a newborn fawn needs. I must say, she doesn't look as healthy as the other younglings, but she is active and cheerful. In her own special way.

Yes, apart from the feeding habits this fawn lacks deer manners. Which I partly understand, being left behind all alone without anyone teaching you how to live. But still, part of our deer manners are based on instinct, same goes for social skills. Besides eating and drinking this fawn seems to be missing a part of it. At first she seemed very afraid of me, like she had never been a deer before. Second, she can't talk. We deer are intelligent creatures, newborns usually learn their first word a few hours after being born. But she can't say anything in the language I am familiar with and keeps 'talking' in some sort of buzzing and clicking language, combined with the familiar mooing. I am trying to teach her to speak, but so far I have no luck.

Still, I must understand the most important thing is to make her feel safe. Make her feel she belongs somewhere. Therefor I have given her a name. From now on this little pink-eyed albino fawn goes by the name Spangled Plushblue. With honor named after a species of the mysterious fluttering bugs she seems to consider her family.

Spangled Plushblue. My child. My butterfly child...

Yours truly.

--

Lyrics by Nightwish, Meatloaf and Delain.