August 12, 2011 - 10:53pm — MissButterflyCaught
Disclaimer: Please use proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation. Mature language below the cut as well.
The day, it was a little hot. Okay, so maybe Foxglove was also a little heated inside. Whatever the reason, he began that evening by rising from a hidden spot and racing for the nearest tree. He had to dig his tines in to something. The bear swung his claws inside he body of the deer, a guttural roar coming forth as a grunt as the tines gouged the tall willow. His tines managed to become entangled in the thick whips that grew from the water-dwelling plant, and this only furthered his rage. Leaves rained around him as he shook the branches he was attached to, trying to get as much pleasure from hitting the trunk with his antlers as he might. The thing Foxglove did not realize was that now he was pretty well chained to the tree. So much for trying to vent his angers, they only turned to despair as he tried to free his tines from the grasp of the old willow.
Flopping to the ground, the orange stag allowed the tree to hold his head up as he groaned in irritation. "Great. This is karma. Damn tree." He mumbled, awkwardly trying to get comfortable as he found a way to free himself from the branches. Each pitiful attempt only got him caught more, until a fore and hind leg found themselves hopelessly entangled as well.
The stag, now awkwardly captured by the tree, thrashed once before resigning himself to the discomfort of standing there. He was lucky that the evening sent the deer deeper in to the woods, leaving the pond quite devoid of visitors.
The gray, red-speckled doe
(Sorry, a bit rusty. I haven't had time to RP for a while.)
"Am I alright? You were the
The stag tried a bow, which seemed to take great effort as he bent the more sturdy branch above him to do so. Foxglove made it half way down before the branch tugged him upright like a marionette. "I am alright, excepting the fact that antlers don't seem to be made for willow trees... ohgods!" After leaning backward while he spoke, the stag managed to free his foreleg and plopped down on his already-damaged tail. Rising like a shaky fawn, eyebrows knitted, the male deer tried again to think of what to do. He was sorely embarrassed, and decided to think of something soon before the gray doe decided to give up and leave. He shot her an apologetic look.
"Am I alright? You were the
"Oh, I - hm - er - uh, that's good... I guess." She stuttered, thinking over the words she just said. She looked down and gave her head a little shake. As she looked back up, she took in the hart's appearance; somewhat long, orangy-chestnut fur, antlers like those of a moose, but smaller, white and red in color, and a whistler-masked face. She gave her head another small shake, then looked him in the face. "Well, er, I guess I should introduce myself?" she stuttered again, blinking a few times. "I'm Lynetta. And, uh, who might you be?" She asked, peering at the stag curiously.
The stag shook his head
The gray doe was very pretty, he had to admit as he studied her briefly. Long legs, lean muscle, red tips all over her soft-seeming pelt... a very pretty doe indeed. Foxglove bit his lip before speaking again."I hope you did not find me too rude, Miss Lynetta... My predicament was not much of an excuse for my tongue." He again apologized, this time a bit more eloquently and accented with the lowering of his ears in submissiveness until he finished. It was only polite.
His lady-killer smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Lynetta gave a warm smile and
"Nice weather we're having, hm?" she asked, turning around, still studying the treetops and the evening sky. She flicked her tail, glanced back at Foxglove, then lowered her head, skimming her lips against the soft grass curiously.
Nice weather? Foxglove
"What does bring you out here, when most are preparing for sleep?" It was a curiosity. The deer flicked his tail again, trying hard not to let it wag to show how he enjoyed this.
Nibbling on the grass,
" What a strange
(Splinters, Maybe if you want
The stag blushed, though he was thankful it was nearly invisible. He had been up to no good, is what had happened between him and the tree. "Well, I had...ah.... I was... taking out my frustrations on it. The tree just decided to stop me. hmhmh" Maybe it had been for the best. Lynetta might have been scared off had it not been for his comical predicament. "I will not be picking on trees anymore, that's for sure." That willow had put him in his place. It was a bit shameful, a bit embarrassing, yes.
Foxglove shuffled a hind hoof, closing his eyes for another bite of grass. Would she tease him for it? Or think him a violent being? Good? Bad? He chewed with these thoughts like a swarm of bees in his head, hiding his insecurities with a tail-flick.
Lynetta studied the stag,
"Well, do you want to take a little walk or something?" She asked, her muddy-brown eyes glinting at the stag. "Once you're done eating, of course." She slightly dipped her head, giving a Mona Lisa-like smile.
Gods, her smile was something
They began off in an indeterminable direction, just taking in the sights of the forest. The bats had just began their flight over the unseen canopies, but it was yet too early for firebugs to overtake the flower patches. Everything was bathed in a concoction of warm and cool colors, dew was beginning to form. The weak light that was left glowed from the Birch, leaking in to the First Forest to create a shadowbox. The two moved effortlessly through the shadowbox.
Foxglove carried himself with little noise, a contented and warm smile, and a gentle gait. No, he was not trying to show off his musculature, but it did bring that attention through the ripples of his frame beneath his candle-flame pelt. But he was not focusing on himself, no. He was more focused on his company. Lynetta.
He was charming, this stag.
"I've always favored this time of day." the doe said quietly, looked at Foxglove, then looked quickly looked forward again, fumbling over her steps for a moment. No, not only was he charming, Foxglove was handsome. As she regained her pace, she swallowed silently. "Are you going to Scarborough fair.." she sung quietly, glancing over toward Foxglove as if wishing for approval. "Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.." she continued, still quietly. She lowered her head a bit, as if she was embarrassed. She paused, then looked up at the stag, head still hung. "I-is it alright if I s-sing?" she stuttered.
The stag's ears pricked as
"Remember me to one who lives there..." He offered, smiling as his warm voice drifted on the air. His step carried spring within it, even though fall was approaching the forest. Her singing seemed to bring out the deer in him, the bear inside shrinking from in to a wonderment-filled daze from the song.
"She was once a true love of
"Tell her to make me a cambric shirt!" she sang dramatically, pausing in her tracks to strike a pose, flashing a grin at Foxglove. She soon resumed her frolicking, adding a little hop here and there.
The violet-orange sky illuminated her pelt as she capered. Small flicks of her tail indicated that she was high-spirited; far from any of her spontaneous moodswings. Lynetta was enjoying this moment, as much as she was enjoying the enticing stag.
"Parsley, sage, rosemary and
"Without a seam nor needlework, then she'll be a true love of mine."
Their hooves thundered in a drumbeat, kicking heals clicking, laughs and melodious song probably disturbed the other deer who were trying vainly to hush fawns in to slumber in the darkness. The two ran, sang, and danced like vagabond gypsies as the night grew thick around them. Finally, in true Gypsy fashion, the stag pressed himself against the doe's side, head-to-hip, to lead her in a circling dance.
"Miss Lynetta, you are an illusion with a siren call." He smiled, leading her in another circle before breaking free and walking a circle to her front.
An illusion with a siren
The doe didn't know what to say. She was aghast. What was she to say? She certainly didn't want to stand there, looking dumbstruck, but Foxglove's words truly left her speechless. She gazed warmly into his eyes, still standing slightly stiff.
The stag smiled as she became
The stag nibbled his company's ear thoughtfully. "Would you like to keep going?" He asked before pulling his lips away. Foxglove knew where it would be beautiful, and it wasn't far away.
"Oh-I-urm- okay.." she
What was she feeling? First, it was shyness, then almost like she was pushing the limits, but finally, she felt as if she had almost a flirty side? She didn't think she was the flirty type. She pushed those thoughts away, quickly, saving them for another day.
I edited it a teensy bit.
((Ah, mkay. I was going to
Foxglove shrugged, knowing directly where he was going. "Someplace." He replied nonchalantly. The fluff of his tail peeped out from under its orange cap, though only part way considering the way his tail flopped at the permanently-dislocated joint.
The doe's scent drifted to him, and he smiled at her. "Someplace this-a-way!" The buck whirled and dashed off, his tail flopping wildly as he teased her to give chase with a kick of his hooves high in the dark-evening air.
A laugh escaped him and rumbled through the night air.
Lynetta frowned, giving a
Only then did she notice the hart's tail. How funny, part of it flops to the side! Probably hurt it wrestling trees... The gray doe giggled, then switched her eyes back to the land ahead of her, smiling pleasantly.
She lifted her head higher, into the air, inhaling the Forest scents. It's smelt... Like trees. Birch trees, pine trees, sequoia trees. And flowers; poppies, those purple flowers that grew in patches, and also the ones the only released their true scent at nightfall.
Foxglove kicked his heels,
The thundering of the stag's hooves slowed, skidded, before he leaped through an area of foliage. The stag peered through, looking back at Lynetta. His face grinned at her from the vines. "Just through here. But you gotta jump, cause there are a couple of good-sized rocks under all of this grass and moss." He smiled, one of those enticing and melting-type smiles.
Just beyond the foliage and rocks lay something beautiful.
Lynetta slowed to a walk
((Arrggg, computer troubles. That took longer than expected. For such a little post, I know. .-.))
((No problem. I get it
The lush foliage was peppered with fireflies, winking as if the two deer were walking among stars. The peacock-grasses were hands caressing the powerful sides of the two beasts that could easily crush the plants. Blueberries glittered from emerald bushes a little bit away; tiny round sapphires filled with the beginnings of a fine wine-inspired taste that stained the taste-buds as well as the soul of the eater, so sinful were their flavors.
Foxglove strolled through this paradise of places carelessly, following his well-made path through the place he called home. The hart smiled, standing on his hind-hooves to pull down a branch above. Something fell to the ground dully, and the stag dropped to reach for it. A bird's nest, old and abandoned, lay by his muzzle. It was surrounded by little bits of beauty from the forest: a rock with a petrified leaf, a ladybug-like beetle encased in amber, butterfly wings, a few feathers of different varieties, a ribbon from a real-deer mask, a couple of very shiny rocks, the list went on and he went to work.
"Lynetta, what do you like?" He peered at her from over his shoulder, the pile of treasure between his hooves.
Lynetta carried herself
What do I like? The doe pondered amidst this question. "Hrmm..." She switched her eyes over to where the buck was standing. "What exactly do you mean by like? I-urm, are you asking in general? Or...?" She kept her brown eyes on the buck, flicking an ear as a shimmerbug attempted to land on it.
He smiled, moving the pile
The stag bounced over to her, the new piece of jewelry dangling from his mouth. "Can't see. Not until it is on you." He spoke through the mouthful of necklace. The amber highlighted the moth's brilliant hues, bright reds and soft blue-violets only lightly muffled by the toffee color of the amber. Foxglove smiled, admiring his handiwork.
It was a hidden passion of his, to make things from the trinkets he finds.
"I.... I thought this one would be the best... it is the only one in the forest... the only moth like it. He smiled, before scooping all the trinkets up and placing them back in the crook of the tree.
You won't tell, will you? He asked fretfully. He was worried about others finding out his secret.
"Oh no, of course not!" The
Lynetta peered down at the pendant Foxglove had made, which she now wore around the thinner part of her neck. "Foxglove, sir, really, thank you. For this," she said looking from the necklace, back to the orange buck,"it is truly beautiful, and for your time." She bent down, exposing her lean withers and back, then bending her right foreleg and moving it under her left foreleg, also dipping her head, and giving her tail a flick in a circular motion, all in a curtsy-like manor.
As the gray hind straightened herself, she met Foxglove's eyes. She stifled a yawn, blinked sleepily, then looked up at the moon. "'Tis a bit late, no?" She gazed warmly into the buck's enticing eyes, cocking her head just a bit.
His smile was broad and
"It is." He agreed, before doing something he had not done before. "You are very welcome to stay.... unless you would rather I walk you home, Lynetta." He did not know how else to invite her... their night together had been the most fun he had ever had with a doe.
Welcome to stay. Her heart
She felt herself grow warm. He was quite the gentleman, and yes, she did want to get to know him better, but if it meant sleeping withing close range of him? She didn't know what to think. "Urm... uh-I mean, you don't have to go out of your... er, duties to... to have me stay. I can always find my way back..." She shot Foxglove a pitiful glance. It was graceful enough to have herself stumble over her words in front of him.