He smiled. It was akin to a gentle caress on any skin, barely an upturn of his lips. His black eyes were rimmed with wrinkles and dark lashes. His face was beastlike, with enough animal trait to be accepted by those who had the faces of deer. His face was human enough to display familiar expression to those who required it for healthy interaction. He knew how to interact with both. For that he thanked the Gods every day.
The lightly-furred nose that halved his face blew out steam into the cool air. It was pink with cold. The white steam blew away. Careful ears pivoted on the sides of his head, taking in cries and birdsong. The forest was busy. He would move to a quieter part.
White and black, two at a time, hooves trampled snow. The black and white trotted through it, over the flat land and to that small cliff that overlooked the Playground's massive boulders. In summer, they were a wonderous sunning spot. In winter... a cold place. Yet he continued to trot in that direction.
Instead of gently scaling the slippery slopes, the stag leaped over. He slid down, mainly on his white-furred rump. A low, warm laugh escaped into the chilled air. Even the more quiet beasts could enjoy their home. Once at the bottom, the beast stood and shook himself. Once at the lowest point in the wood, the black and white continued on. There was a quiet place for him deeper, where deer rarely tread.
The Birches grew taller, thinner, and grasses struggled up through the snow here. The drifts lay untouched in the Lowland Birch. It was as the stag enjoyed most. The trotting slowed to a walk. Careful now, he picked his way through the snowy trees. A very small few knew of this place, or cared to be here. They were those that the stag would prefer for company today, as likely they were quiet and reserved. He wouldn't shoo anyone away, though. That was the way of Moss. He accepted all provided they accepted his peaceful ways.
The Lowland Birch spread as a white and cream world before him. The stag decided that this place would be where he rested. Forehooves began to dig for the frozen earth. Snow clods unceremoniously flew and collided with the ground as the stag dug out a hollow in the white. It was there that he settled. Black would stand out against the white, should anyone need to look.
Here, he closed his eyes to sense for others. Pictograms flooded his mind, all too far away... except for one or two close by. He watched them glow for a moment before opening those black eyes to give a proper survey of his surroundings. They sure were beautiful.
{Tracking. Would you mind if
If you would like.
Ah Chromai you're so fast
I was thinking of using my new fawn, he could learn a lot from a character like Moss.
*waves to Mary and Chromai*
@Doves: Mhmhm we're all
ROFL So much for a quiet day
e2a: If anyone would like a separate RP, just start up another thread.
*arms self with snowballs of
Tracks, I need to work on my
Hope you don't mind me making
____________________
The young male had waken up to his second morning in this Forest, yet he felt like he knew every last aspect of it already. The Oak had told him the names that the inhabitants used for the different highlights between the trees - the statues belonged to the Gods seemed to be the most interesting. It sounded awfully silly, though. Why would you need two gods? Obeying just one was already tough on its own - the young buck's mind wasn't capable of keeping more than a few things in focus at once. He avoided going to the statues alltogether, in fear of being mocked by others for not being able to keep up. A slow and an unsocial child as he was.
It didn't help that he was so much different from all the others his age. They had a silky, orange tinted furs with pretty little spots on the back, the buckling's fur was all scruffy and dark. It made the other fawns wary, but it didn't bother the young male all that much. He did hate being so different, but he didn't need friends anyway - he had the pretty voice that spoke to him from the great mother tree. The sweet, deep humming noise that resembled the most beautiful of lullabies. It was unfortunate to know that he'd have to get out there, if not to meet others then to eat and drink and strengthen his body, at least. He'd be a strong stag one day, capable of taking care of himself and the nature surrounding him. He'd have to thank the lady in the tree who took care of him by growing up to be independent and strong above all. But what was strength? The little buck had no idea. In his childish mind, the word was associated with muscles and big antlers. Yes, that must be it!
Prancing around in the snow joyfully, the little male was excessively proud of his mindful accomplishment. The snow felt pleasant again today, making the little buck give in to the temptation of sticking out his tongue and try to catch the pretty snowflakes with it. He even tried to chase them, trying not to let them hit the ground before they'd hit his spiky fur. His childlike, high-pitched laughter could probably be heard from a long distance away, as he didn't really understand the need of controlling his own emotions. He felt no shame in letting his joy be known to the world. His quest to find the snowflake he saw falling from the sky was leading him directly towards the Birch. Few went there, but the little fawn didn't know of such norms or general rules most of the Forest inhabitants followed. He went where he wanted, where his mind found the most wonderful experiences of all. The thickness and whiteness of the trees seemed really alien to him, and he had a sudden urge to taste the bark. Once again, the buckling sticked his tongue out to lick the surface, only for it to be stuck in the thin layer of ice that covered it. Ah, great.
After struggling for a while, the fawn was finally free, chuckling to himself. Lesson learned, DON'T lick before thinking. That lesson was forgotten fairly quickly, as the young male noticed the black-and white figure enjoying some alone-time, sitting in his own spot. The fawn tried to block a loud gasp from escaping this mouth, and started scratching the ground as he had seen the bucks from yesterday do. Those antlers, that body.. this was the perfect chance to test his abilities! "Chaaaaaarge!" The young stag couldn't help screaming out loud, as he lowered his head to show his non-existent antlers and began to run towards the male. Not used to running with his long, fawnlike legs, the fawn slipped. He had not realised how frozen still the earth really was, and so it was like walking on ice for the young, insecure buckling. Landing awkwardly in front of the male, the fawn tried to look tough by puffing up his cheeks. "I-I did that on purpose!" His words must have sounded a little awkward, considering he hadn't spoken in a long while. A hint of excitement touched his heart - this was his first encounter in this place.
The fawn's battle-cry was
Moss' legs unfolded as if on springs, sending him sailing away from where he once was in a single, short leap. Khairah was left apologizing to the depression in the snow, while Moss slowly turned to face him from where he had landed. The wizened-eyed stag tilted his head lightly as he brought it down to the fawn's level.
"Why?"
The voice that came forth was warm, questioning the fawn. It likely wasn't what the babe wanted at all, but Moss already had judged this as an opportunity to see just what fawns in this place were learning these days. He spent so much time dozing that he hardly knew.
The stag looked long and hard at this babe. Those red eyes were quite prominent. Dark fur... maybe he was the child of a dark creature. That may explain some of the behavior and features. It wasn't something Moss would just ignore, though. Even dark creatures can be taught kindness. Moss reminded himself in thought. He had encountered enough of them in this forest to know one when he saw it.
The stag's head again raised to full height. The average-sized white antlers spread like branches above him as he watched for a sign of an answer from the young deer. Behind him, and likely out of sight, the stag's small, well-furred tail flicked. He held a lot of curiosity for the young, and this babe's answer could provide some insight for him. It also could just be a teaching opportunity. Either way, the interaction would prove good for Moss. He needed it every now and then.
The fawn watched with great
The stag spoke... such a sweet, soothing voice. It wasn't the voice of the lady in the Oak, but it was much more concrete, it sounded less muffled. Not as sweet, but less rough and much more comprehensible. Yep. The question asked was simple, a language the little buck could understand with ease. Yet it was the answer that was the most troublesome. Why? A tiny frown appeared on the fawn's face as he tried to look for a motive for his actions. Why not? Wasn't he allowed to do what he just did? Maybe it was wrong, somehow. The little buck needed to know - he would never grow up to be smart if he didn't know everything. Everything.
"I want to be strong.I challenged you." The word 'strong' came from the buckling's mouth as if it was something to be praised, worshipped even. In his small world, it was. His true goal, his absolute meaning in life. The fawn didn't know anything else - he just didn't want to be weak, ever again. It brought about only pain, and the bottomless feeling of emptiness that had no escape. Yet it was this stag's word that made him question that, his own purpose. It wasn't a condemning voice that came from from the older buck, but it worried him slightly. "Am I - perhaps not allowed to?" His large, reddish eyes were locked in the stag, as the fawn tried to register all his features into his mind. The male looked strong to him, and perhaps he was wise, a concept the young buck couldn't understand. But above all else, the male looked gentle, welcoming. It reassured the babe.
The stag nodded, fully
He gathered breath, but did so quietly so as to not seem as if he would scold the fawn. "Strong deer challenge others, you're right. There is more than one kind of strength. Strong minds are just as important as strong bodies." Think before you act, little one. He didn't attempt to imply that, as the child would learn with time and teaching. He didn't mark the fawn's behavior as incorrect, either. It wasn't his place. Surely, this babe had a mother somewhere who would scold him instead.
Moss admired how the fawn looked at him. He had once looked to a God in the same way, long ago. He had also looked to the sky in that way... and that was how he ended up... that thought needn't finish. The young were very impressionable, and it made him nervous that others would try to sway the fawn's mind in an unhealthy way. The black and white hoped that he could in some way protect against this by working on the child's mind.
"Would you like a strong body, or would you like a strong mind?" With all the ways to get a strong mind, a strong body would likely follow if he was balanced, the stag knew. However, he still posed the question to decide just how good this child was at making his own decisions. It was a risky test, the peaceful one knew, but necessary.
Do I even know how to shape the mind of a child? The thought was a burden. What if he made a mistake? Moss' tail flicked again. Very few knew of his nervous tick, or looked for it. Maybe nobody else did. It was nearly impossible to tell when the stag was nervous. He really had no need to be, since he wasn't one that could be hurt by another. It was honest that the act of shaping another's mind also worried him, since that other may be able to shape his own mind in some way. The beast hoped with all that he was that it only worked how he did it. He hoped he wouldn't harm this little one, or the little one could possibly harm him mentally as well. How tedious this power was.
Being inexperienced in
There's a different form of strength? A strong mind ? The buckling's eyes widened with confusion, as he desperately tried to get a grip of the strange concept. The fawn did remember mom saying something like that long ago, but couldn't get a good grip of those thoughts. They had been blocked deep into his unconscious mind, as remembering them could have made him more harm than good. There was literally no other form of strength in his small world than the thought of growing big antlers and flexible muscles. Did it mean the same as to be smart?
However, the little male had acknowledged his constant seeking of knowledge. Maybe it was a part of having a strong mind? He wanted to know everything there was to know about everything - his young mind couldn't understand the fact that there would always exist information you couldn't access.
Forming a stern, tough expression on his face, the buckling announced after a long while of thinking: "I want both!" Proud of his declarement, the fawn's dark tail lifted up towards the sky, and his reddish eyes glowed like two shining rubies in the faint sunlight. He wasn't entirely sure what it meant to have a strong mind, but he intended to ask that. The black and white male had become a role model, the buckling believed in every word that escaped his mouth. In his simple world, liars and frauds didn't exist. The other male had to be good, he had to be wise and he had to be strong. There was no other way. "Sir, what's a strong mind? Does it mean to be smart?" His young mind was full of complicated questions, and he believed the older stag could answer them all.
The babe had determination
But wait... the buckling had called him by something he had no intention of having anyone call him... likely ever. Moss wasn't a 'Sir' as he preferred to be on equal terms with everyone, even those he taught. That title was for elders and those who wished to have authority over many others. Moss was an equal, friend, and no authority figure at all. Some would even call him a coward for not fighting against anyone. Peace was his way of doing everything, and sometimes that price was there to be paid.
"Oh... and I realize I haven't introduced myself. That was an important oversight." The black and white stag treated the baby like he would any other. His body moved forward, one foreleg bent so as to carry his weight on his knee. The other leg extended in front of him, toward the babe's hooves. The stag's antlers barely rubbed his own sides, sussing the fur there. He bowed deep and low. Black eyes closed into thin lines of lashes as he showed respect to the babe that he had only just met. Everyone deserved that kind of treatment, at least once in their lives.
"My name is Moss. Feel free to call me by that. It's very nice to meet you." The stag said, rising back up to his full height. He was only the size of an average deer of this place, but much taller than the fawn. It must have been odd, being bowed to when you were so young and obviously not from here. Better to start now, though, to teach the manners that all forest-folk knew.
How and why were harsh, alien
Why do I use knowledge? It was an excellent question, even a little too good a one, given the fawn's inability to focus on confusing matters for more than a few moments. The buckling was slow and easily distracted, the attempt to process the stag's words and make sense of them didn't stay in his mind for a long time. There was just too much the fawn didn't know, and he was afraid he wouldn't even learn anything from the world of the adults. Their world was so complicated, cruel, even. To avoid showing his confusion, the young buck was happy just showing the male a simple nod.
The older stag's next gesture took the fawn completely by surprise. The little buckling just stared at him, head tilting in confusion and ears drawn far back. He had never been shown respect like this before, most adults had treated him like a pest, definitely unworthy of their company. The fawn didn't mind this as he didn't really know how to socialize, but hearing someone's voice - knowing someone was genuinely interested in his well-being made the babe feel warmer, despite the cold weather. At first, the buckling could do nothing but stare at the larger male, confused over the bowing gesture. The fawn tried to recover fast from the awkward silence that had surrounded them, and tried to make a bow back, just as elegant as the stag's had been. He failed, only managing to make a stiff, unnatural crouch. It looked more like he was tripping over his long legs again. "It's - it's my pleasure! Sir - I mean Moss." The name felt comfortable in his small mouth, easy to pronounce and it even held a personal meaning to him. "Moss is the green stuff that grows on rocks, right? I like it! It's pretty."
The child spoke rapidly, clearly expressing his deep love and understanding for nature. It was like the best thing in the world for him that someone would be named after it. His affection and respect for the older stag grew. He seemed so wise, like a parent. Parents were always wise. Maybe this stag was someone's daddy?
Realizing something was still missing, the fawn quickly added: "I'm Khairah. Kh..air-i..." The attempt to spell out his own name from letter to letter was too difficult, and the fawn ended up shaking his head in frustration. "Just call me Khai. That's what the lady calls me." He spoke of the treelady as if Moss was supposed to know about her. Little did the child know there was no lady in the tree, it was the imagination that changed the quiet humming into whispers in his head. Whispers that actually came from his subsconscious.
Moss nodded as the fawn
It was almost difficult for the stag to keep up with the younger's words. One could liken it to a situation where a grandparent would listen to a young child explain something they were excited about, not really knowing but getting the jist of it. It was all he really needed to hear.
The stag was curious when the fawn tried to spell his name. Moss only knew the language of this place in regards to writing. He perhaps had been able to spell with the english language in the far past, but not now. One of those 'You don't use it, you lose it' kind of things. The stag drew his pictogram in the snow with an outstretched hoof. "This is how you spell my name." The stag closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the shining light that glowed brightly in front of him: The fawn's pictogram. Knowing Pictograms wasn't something that could tell him about anyone else before he met them. However, it was pretty nice in this case. Moss drew the fawn's gods-given name there next to his own. "And this is how I would spell your name." He
Khai... wait, the lady? Does he mean mother, or the all-mother goddess of this place? Or even just a caretaker? "Who is the lady, Khai?" The thought was moved to speech. Moss was curious as to who this caretaker was. It was odd to hear something of whole families coming into the forest, so maybe he was about to stumble on a rarity? Or... maybe it was entirely different.
The fawn's eyes became even
The question about the treelady scared the young male slightly. He believed that everyone knew about her and her way of whispering secrets to you. Of course, you couldn’t forget the most important part – her song, her lullaby that you could always hear when you entered the great Oak. The sweet melody that had lulled the fawn into a deep sleep on his first night in here. The voice was so sweet, so gentle, so loving. It was like the voice of a mother. It was only natural that the child had become addicted to the sound. It was awfully strange to him that Moss didn’t know about it. He was supposed to be wise, wasn’t he? Although, the fawn couldn’t really complain. This way he could keep the sweet lady all to himself.
“She lives in the giant tree near the water. She’s always singing and humming! Sometimes she whispers – she tells stories.” The babe explained it as if it was all true. He believed it to be true – a childish mind locked in the joyful state was not always able to tell the truth from phenomena that his own mind had created. “Sometimes the stories are reeeaally scary, but she’s still like a mom. She takes care of me.”
Moss had to take a moment to
Moss tried to keep things calm for the babe. He could smell the nervousness on him and wanted to take things gently. The wind made a hissing sound as it blew down from the hills behind them and through the grasses, a lighter whisper than the loud creaking of trees above as their bare branches clattered. Quickly, the stag shielded the babe from the brunt of the gust by angling his body. It subsided quickly. Maybe a retreat to the Oak was just the thing to dispel the mystery... and protect them both from the wind. It seemed to be coming from the opposite direction of the entrance to the large hardwood.
"Should we go visit her?" The stag made his suggestion, looking in the general direction of the tree, which seemed to grow from the horizon. In reality, it wasn't all that far of a jaunt from where they were in the Birch. Moss liked this part of the wood because it was not far from anything: The Oak and idol were straight forward and back, whereas the Playground was to the right and De Drinkplaatz to the left. Nothing was very far away, not even the hill atop which the Gods rested. That was visible if one stood up.
Moss shook, a bit of snow falling from his pelt. One thing about this place: If the wind hit at just the right angle, you could be buried under a layer of the white stuff. It was not often, but sometimes it happened.
The babe's gaze was nervous,
An uncomfortable, strange screech caught the buckling's attention, as a gush of wind was heading their way. The young male was ready to leap behind a tree to escape the chilly breeze, but the older stag decided to shield him. The gesture again took the fawn by complete surprise, making him stare at Moss for a long, long while. Why? A part of him wanted to act tough again and say that he didn't need any shielding, but his desire for protection was the more dominant side in this case. No matter how hard the fawn tried to act, he still needed someone to take care of him. That's probably why the idea of the lady in the Oak had formed in his head - to fill that empty place in his heart that could otherwise harm his development. Yet this situation was entirely different. The young male could see it with his own eyes - someone had jumped to protect him, even if it was just a breath of cold wind. The fawn was too shy to thank the older stag, but his tail lifted up in excitement as he flashed a giant smile. Moss was like a role model to him now, and the babe couldn't believe anything was bad or weak about him.
As soon as the wind had passed, the buckling bounced around the older male, snow splattering in different directions. "I'm sure she'd like to meet you! We just have to be reeaally careful when we go in." The fawn leaned in to whisper to the older stag, as if the matter was a big secret. "She's quite shy." The young fawn smiled, red eyes glowing more bright from all the excitement he was feeling. He had always wanted to introduce more friends to the lady - she seemed to be so lonely sitting in the tree all day.
Taking the lead, the fawn had learned the way to the Oak from all different directions in the Forest. He considered the darkness and shelter soothing, and the old tree was like a home to him. He became extremely annoyed when someone else was there, and the attempt to chase any others away often ended up in failure. He was too young to understand that the Forest and all of its corners belonged to everyone, granted to them by the power of the Gods. He followed his own concept, believing everyone had their home they needed to protect from unwanted guests. This time was different - Moss was his beloved guest.
Though the fawn tried to keep a steady pace, he was easily distracted by the occasional tuft of snow falling from a branch, making him jump in shock. He must have looked silly, tail raising up and looking much fluffier than it had moments before. Where the older stag wisely saw the danger of being buried under a pile of the white powder, the fawn only saw a chance to play. He was old enough to understand you couldn't always stop to play whenever you wanted, but if his self-control would have been on a lower level than now, he would have dived under a tree just to try and escape before the snowpile landed on him. He didn't consider it dangerous. "I don't like snow, Moss! When does it melt?" His sudden pout escaped from his snout as they were nearing the Oak. It was true - the fawn loved to play with the cold powder, but he was more of a fan of green. The nature was his absolute friend, and he didn't like it when the plans were asleep under the layers of snow and ice. Plus, his inpatient nature wanted everything to happen fast, and life always needed to have something new and exciting. If he could have been the one to choose, he would have changed the seasons every day.
Moss played right along with
Moss played right along with the fawn, leaning in to listen to his secret. The black and white gave a solemn nod, as if promising to be careful. He would be, but only for sake of the babe. The seed of doubt planted in him at the first words of the 'lady' were sprouting and taking root at the same time.
The fawn led him in the direction they both had in mind. Black eyes admired the babe's gaiety and playfulness. He seemed so unaware of everything that could harm him. Falling snow could be an issue, should the young one not know the warning signs. So could deep drifts, should he be reckless and jump into a place that moved downhill just a bit too quickly. The snow in this part of the forest wasn't deep enough to hinder movement too much, but even the stag had to avoid falling lumps of white flakes. As if on cue, a particularly average pile fell to the ground in a 'whumpf' to puddle with the flakes that made it to the ground. Luckily for the pair, they had passed the area a bit ago. It didn't stop Moss from stopping to look back and see where the noise had come from.
The trees started to thin as the pair began to move under the branches of the Old Oak. Her shade was thick enough in the hot summer months to stop many saplings from growing too closely, though one or two braved the low-light area to grow and thrive. Moss tread less carefully here, where he knew there wasn't much beneath the snow to bother his hooves. The squirrels had cleaned up well before snowfall.
Impatience tainted the voice of the young one, asking when the snow would melt. "Snow melts when the forest is ready to show what it has been working on all winter long." The black and white looked to the Oak and its gnarled bark knowingly, wistfully. "The Gods take time to make this place beautiful every spring." He made his way nearer, the tell-tale hum of the tree finding its way to his white ears.
"It sounds to me like she's home, Khai." Moss remarked, slowly walking to the entrance of the gargantuan tree. Thankfully, the inside held no deer that he could see with his eyes open or closed. It was just the two of them, and the TreeLady.
Although the babe was fairly
The fawnling didn't even bother to stop at the Oak's giant entrance to see if anyone was there. Being careful was not a part of his personality, as he believed nobody would dare to invade 'his' home anyway. He jumped into the tree with a swift motion, letting out a comforted moo in the process. "I'm home!" His childish, high-pitched voice was an excited whisper, as the Treelady's song entered his ear canal. As always, it calmed the youngster's heart within seconds, making him sigh as he lay down next to the gnarled bark. The wind couldn't enter here, and the inside was completely free of snow, which made the fawn much warmer than he had been a moment ago. The constant humming in his ears was incredibly soothing, the lady's voice filling the entire tree. Inviting Moss to sit with him, the fawn had a wide smile on his deerlike face. Moss heard it too, so it had to be true! "She's always home. I sometimes wonder if she can even leave this place. Maybe she just likes it too much?" His voice was excited and he spoke fast once more. The Treelady was his favorite topic to discuss, if not for nature's different phenomena.
The buckling tried to focus his mind on Moss' earlier words, greatly confused by all the detail the older male had put into them. The Forest did some work? The fawn just couldn't understand how - all the trees and plants were fast asleep, making it seem more like they were just lazy. Furthermore, the idea of a God made the young male feel cold all over. Back in his own world, he remembered flashes of the countless times that he had tried to pray for God to save him from his misery, asking why He had put the child through all this and what he had done wrong. All the adults he had known had either told him there was no God, and others told him the child would be going into a bad place after death for questioning the allmighty ruler. Moss was using the plural word, gods. "Gods? Does something like a god really exist?" He didn't even notice he was questioning the older stag's words, but this was a sensitive subject for the young male. His voice was full of sadness and hatred, all planted into him by the adults he had been living with. The concept of a god was a distant and a scary thing for the fawn, as he had been manipulated to behave through religion in the past. But only time could tell if Moss could open up the lock in the fawn's mind, reassuring him of the Gods' care in the Forest.
The humming grew stronger as
The Old Oak was a giant instrument. Although at the bottom of the tree no wind could be felt, near the top a singular hole was open to let some light in. The low buzz of forest magic, coupled with the wind blowing over the top of the tree like lips to a bottle brought out the sound. Really, if not for the magic, Moss wondered if the tree would sing at all.
"It's wonderful to hear the Oak hum, isn't it?" Moss smiled, settling down in a well-worn rut next to the babe. The sound vibrated through him, reminding him of one of the reasons this was his favorite of the forest's landmarks.
"What do you think: Is the TreeLady unable to leave, or is she the tree itself? Maybe that's why she can't leave?" Time wasn't wasted getting to the point. The stag allowed himself to completely relax as the wind rushed around the outside of the hardwood with ferocity. The already consistent humming fluctuated with each gust, creating a sort of song. The branches formed a hissing accompaniment. A few doves roosting in the top cooed their agreement to whatever conversation the songbirds were muttering as the wind scared them into the large hollow.
Moss looked through the dimly-lit space at the fawn. His moon-white face almost glowed in the dim light, with the pictogram floating above his head to cast a yellow glow over the white fur of his brow.
The babe had just started to
Oh, how wrong he was.
The sudden question directed at him quickly put the young male's fragile mind in a defensive state. His smile was replaced with a confused frown, a child's fear of being scolded after doing something you're not supposed to do. His breathing was much faster now, slowly leading the fawn in a state of panic. The feeling of security was quickly replaced with the sensation of stupidity - he started to realise there was nothing that he knew about this world he had been thrown into, and he blamed himself for it. However, a child's mind couldn't handle such blame on oneself, so the next possible reaction was to fight back against the threat that was targeting everything he knew at the time.
"Trees can't talk. They can't sing. That's silly." The young male backed off from the older one, lower lip quivering in fear. If the Treelady was nonexistent, an entity he only imagined to protect himself - then had he been alone all this time? Was this world just another doomed dead end, with no-one there to stand by him and be proud of him when he grew up?
It's God's fault.
An unpleasant beast shifted in him, triggered by the situation. It was not a demon, it was not an alien waiting to be freed - it was the fawn's hatred towards the world, towards others. A feeling he had sworn to hide deep inside him, not ever wanting anyone to see such an ugly side of him. In his previous world, the child had blocked the hatred off for a long time, killing the rest of his emotions in the process. That's where the emptiness had come from. The fawn's greatest fear was just that - having to feel empty and meaningless again.
"Why are you saying that? Don't you like her? Do you want her to disappear?" The child foolishly continued his pouting, only caring about his own feelings. He felt hurt, threatened, and angry. He didn't understand this world, and the only one who he could lash out at was poor Moss, who had been unfortunate enough to enter his world.
The stag's ears threatened to
"Of course I like the Oak. She sings quite beautifully. She protects all of us from the harsh cold, the pouring rain, and the hot summer sun. When the wind blows through her leaves she whispers secrets that only those who can hear them will understand." The black and white tried to make his smile as gentle as possible. He drew on the knowledge of forest fairytales that had been acquired through his time here.
"If she went away, I would be very sad, wouldn't you?" The stag tilted his head gently in question, as was customary. As soon as he had righted it, Moss continued. "Where you are from, maybe trees could not sing. Where I was from, they could not sing either. Here, in The Endless Forest, this is the only tree in the forest that is able to hum this beautiful melody. She's just as special as you are, since there's only one of her and only one of you."
Moss rose to his hooves, smiling as he moved to press his face against the well-worn wood to illustrate his point. "Did you know, Khai, that the tree is so smooth inside because so many creatures come here to rest? She brings comfort to everyone. I have heard many forest-dwellers refer to her as a mother to all of the other trees." Moss returned to his seat, eyes settling again on the little black fawn with the red orbs that seemed to glow in the darkness.
As Moss started to explain
Fortunately, that certain barrier was still weak and flexible, prone to accept new changes and truths into the fawn's mind. Words of logic did calm him down, even if the change for better was slow. The barrier was bending towards Moss' words, acknowledging them to be a truth. The final word to get through the barrier and altogether break it was 'special'. The young male hadn't been called that before, and it made him completely speechless for a while, the only visible sound being his intense breathing and the Oak's hum. It sounded so much louder when both of them were quiet, but in this case it did some good for the fawn. He wasn't about to say he was sorry for acting the way he did as remorse was still a strange thing for him to feel, but he did calm down. As long as the older stag knew that the lady was important, no more words needed to be said against him. It was a truth he was willing to accept.
The words continued to trouble him in another way, though. The feeling of absolute loneliness was gnawing at his stomach, making him feel sick with worry. If the Oak wasn't about to take care of him, who would? Could he really learn to survive by himself - to learn the ways of the Forest? The only way to keep sane was to cling to this tree for now. "If she goes away, I'll - I'll surely die. I want her to take care of me, too." The fawn openly expressed his deep addiction to this tree, like a loved one he wasn't able to let go. It was still funny to him that a tree would be able to sing such a beautiful song, but a part of him saw it better to not dwell on it any longer. Maybe the Oak was just a tree, maybe the lady was there - the truth remained that her song was a beautiful and a soothing tune, a blessing for the flora and fauna alike.
"Then - does that mean I'm alone now? I thought it was my mommy who was up there, singing to me and making sure I was okay." The red-eyed buckling looked up into the tree's darkness, feeling colder than a moment before. He really missed his mother. The only good part of his older world.
"You're not from here either, mister? How did you get here?" Moss' words interested him greatly, and he secretly wished their original homes had been similar. He needed to talk about something else to distract his negative thoughts - the past seemed like a good starting point, as the fawn didn't have any hope for his own future, other than finding the means of becoming strong.
The stag was comforted by the
The stag was comforted by the fawn's slow calming. It made him relax to know that the crisis was averted for the moment. There he sat, listening to the babe talk and question. It was good for him to do so, if only because it meant that he learned. "I see nothing that says she would not care for you as she cares for every other creature here." The stag took a moment to tilt his head up, looking into the darkness of the tree. It was easy to imagine her a mother, when one imagined the hole at the top as her mouth and the inner caverns as a womb. Although the stag knew that the 'mother' bore children by seed, he also knew that the term 'mother' meant care and comfort to many of the orphaned fawns here. It wasn't unnatural to find them needing someone to cling to.
The babe's next question brought him back to reality, and his gaze again rested on the fawn's face. "We're never alone, even when there's nobody around. When nobody is around, you have yourself. There's nobody better than that. But if you find yourself needing another mind to talk to, you can come and seek me out." That was the only comfort he could give. In truth, everyone was alone. However, friends were always there.
The babe's next words cut like a knife to the black and white's memories, but he didn't show it. He would provide a comforting answer anyway. "The Twin Gods of this forest gave me a new life here years ago. Before then, if you can believe it, I was a koi fish. I lived with another god somewhere far away from here, in a pond in his garden." The stag chuckled. Moss could hardly believe it himself. But he took a moment to add, as was his custom: "The Twin Gods take all kinds of souls and give them new life here. They are wonderful deer." That was punctuated with a nod.
The words that came at him
The thought of himself being his company actually encouraged the young male. If being strong meant that you would be independent and could enjoy your own company, he would strive towards that goal. Maybe it was another aspect of what Moss had mentioned before - having a strong mind? Right now, the child needed someone concrete to be there for him, but those words stirred up something inside of him. A feeling of pride for being who he is, the ability of thinking that he truly was special. Right - he wouldn't need anyone, he wouldn't cling to anyone. He'd gain some more confidence in himself. Still, Moss' offer of being there as someone he could talk to was nothing but tempting. Khairah had not felt the warmth of a loving parent or a sibling ever before, and this made him escpecially clingy to new relationships. Older stags and does, in particular. It was actually a little unnatural of how little interest the buckling had in forming friendships with other fawns. He only thought adults were much wiser, stronger and mature - and the little fawn thought he could learn of their strange ways by just observing them. Fawns didn't seem to have anything worthwhile, they were just playmates.
To answer those words, the babe just walked a little closer to the older stag, laying down right next to him with a comforted sigh. The texture of Moss' black and white fur against his black, spiky pelt was something the fawnling found extremely soothing. The older stag felt soft and warm, even safe. The fawn was surprised himself by the sudden wave of absolute relaxation he felt upon leaning against the stag's shoulder. This was something he could get used to - the Oak's singing was nice and everything, but it wasn't able to form any sort of logical conversation. This was different, this was a real being that sat beside him.
Completely immersed in his gentle, relaxing voice, the buckling only understood the content of his words after a moment of silence. A loud, sudden gasp escaped his mouth, as he heard the short, strange story of the wise stag's past. "Whooah! How can a fish become a deer? Shouldn't you be a fish now?" The fawn's voice was sceptical, but it wasn't mocking. He had no reason to question the stag's story, but he did question the existence of a god. Yet Moss talked about them lovingly, as if they were really there at all times. Watching over them. The fawn shivered, but this time it wasn't the cold that caused it. "Are you sure something like a god exists, Moss?" The unpleasant memory of his own past returned, all the times God had mocked him - and how he had mocked God. It just felt like a powerless, cruel being to him. These gods must have been no different. They were just deer, like he and Moss were.
The stag smiled and allowed
"I am positive that they are real. I have seen, danced and ran with the Gods. They visit the forest every now and again, and bring all sorts of magic with them. It's even better than watching the magic of De Drinkplaatz, the fountain on the hill." Those gods had even given the stag a mask, once. He had buried it away some time ago.
"The Gods of this place are magnificently large deer whose backs brush the top of this oak's entrance." He motioned to the tall arch. "One wears a fawn-spotted pelt that is deep red like your eyes. Her name is Aureia. The other has a pelt that looks to be made of the same gold as a dandelion. His name is Michael." The stag seemed to spin a tale, although each word of it was true. He had been there to remember it. The stag used a brow-tine to draw their pictograms in the dirt, so that the fawn could learn those too.
"The Twin Gods themselves gave me this body, just like they gave you your forest name." The little glimmer of his pictogram caused the stag to remember the first time he saw his own in his reflection. He had thought it was a gold coin in the water until finally he realized it was above his head.
The buckling's ears stayed
His eyes were just red, glowing wide orbs as he heard the description of the two gods. He felt slightly scared of ever seeing the two of them, but on the other hand, hearing of them made his body tingle with excitement. Moss had seen them in person! That must have meant they were both real and living, not just worshipped as the leaders of a dying religion. The fawn didn't even dare to repeat their names out loud, afraid that they would hear him speaking their names out loud for no reason. It seemed like such names were to be treated with respect, as they had such intense power when just spoken out loud. And they even had magic? This had turned out to be quite the place, one the fawn could learn how to love.
The mention of his pictogram made the buckling look up at the floating yellow symbol, one that he could read without even thinking much about it. Pictures and drawings were better than letters, after all. It made him smile - knowing that everyone in the Forest had something that connected them all. No matter if you'd be a deer or a predator, everyone was connected with this mysterious language that the Twin Gods had invented. "Does that mean this is Heaven? I remember feeling really cold and empty before I got here! I wasn't even a deer, I guess I was given this body as well. Because I think I died . Did you die too? " The young male tried to sound really dramatic, as he didn't understand the burden of death. Death was just a stepping stone in life for him, not an end or even anything to feel sad about. It had just happened, and the fawn had found himself in this place. His mother had always said that good kids were able to step into a fantastic, beautiful world that was full of kindness and safety. A place named Heaven. The Endless Forest seemed to meet those criteria well enough, so it must have been the same place.
Each word hit Moss like a
Each word hit Moss like a sharp pair of antlers. The babe held the same dreams that he had when he was a koi. Moss couldn't even tell him not to fly. This place? Was it really heaven? Moss took a moment before answering, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that rattled his ribcage.
"You can be a bird any time you want, you know. All you need to do is go and drink from that fountain I talked about. The magic is random, but every once in awhile you'll get to be a crow or a dove. Then you can fly as high as you want inside the circle of mushrooms surrounding the fountain. If you leave it, you'll wind up back as a deer on the ground. But somehow, no matter how high you fly inside, you don't fall when you leave it. You're just simply on the ground." Until the fawn was able to fly well, there wasn't much use in telling him of the other way to get this magic. He didn't want the young male drowning in the pond or anything else, since magic outside of the fountain was a finite thing for fawns and there was a chance that he could wind up 'on the surface of the pond' or 'on the river' or someplace of that manner.
"Yes, I did die before I came here, though the story isn't something I would enjoy telling. I was thankful that the Gods took me in and allowed me to stay in this wonderful place." The stag used those two for comfort to still his nerves at the memory of death. To think that a fawn also had experienced this, and at such a young mental age, was deplorable to the black and white beast. "I am not sure what Heaven is, Khai. If a heaven is a paradise, though, I would have to say that The Endless Forest is not that. There are still dangers here to be aware of. Despite that, it's much better here than any place I have ever lived." Moss knew by now that no other deer in the forest could exist quite like he did, and therefore it was best to assume that the babe couldn't survive by 'golden rule' alone. He would have to remind the fawn to stay safe.
Moss heard the tree creak as the wind howled outside. Outside of this tree lay lots of dangers that the fawn would have to face. Moss almost felt grief thinking that he couldn't offer the child the protection the Gods offered him. The deer didn't flaunt his power to anyone. He did not even remember telling anyone that he was unable to be hurt. It was safe to say that nobody knew, and that nobody would ever know.
The fawn knew the Drinkplaatz
"It won't be the same, though! I'll still be me, not a real bird. It will be just a cheap trick." The young male's voice was quite arrogant, as if drinking from the fountain was an unspeakable sin. To him, it felt fake to fulfill his dream that way - the fawn couldn't understand the point of it when the magic would only work inside the circle of mushrooms. He had faith that the Gods would turn him into a real one - after all, they seemed to have power beyond belief. The fawn really hoped they were truly real.
For the first time, the fawn noticed the slight hint of sadness that Moss expressed when speaking of his past. Maybe it was thanks to him starting to get used to the gentle voice of the stag. He could notice the small changes in his tone now, and change his own behavior according to those changes. The fawn quietly looked up at the stag, and spoke. "Why not? Don't be sad, Moss. I can listen to your story." For a while, the buckling sounded much older than he truly was, even having a lower tone hidden in his voice. He didn't even realise doing it - everything came from the back of his mind. Memories that he didn't consciously remember. "I don't think dying is that bad - I feel much happier now than I did back when I still walked on two legs! I was just sad and empty all the time, and I was really sick. It was cold and scary for a moment, but then I found this place! Mommy said Heaven is a place you enter after you die."
Moss' next words brought him back to his own childish world, and his gaze followed the older stag's. The wind was screaming intensively outside, making the tree emit all kinds of strange, hollow sounds. The fawn wasn't scared, knowing that the Oak would protect them from the weather outside, but the warning had made him wary. To a child like him, it felt strange to accept the fact that a wonderful place like this could pose any threat to those living in it. "But I haven't seen any monster yet - what danger could there be?" He was a little naive, smiling at the older stag while trying to convince himself of being correct.
A paradise like this just couldn't be dangerous, could it?
The stag had to put his
The stag had to put his antlers on right, it seemed. The kid was still a kid. Moss' ear flicked. "Their magic's no cheap trick. It got you here." The black and white made his point. "I am still me, even though I am no longer a koi. And for that I am extremely grateful to the Gods." The words weren't mean, although the fawn did stir up something within Moss that could be described as contempt. Maybe it was his insulting the magic of the Gods.
"Not sure you'll want to fly after hearing my story. To put it simply: I died because I tried to fly and fell. I tried to do something that I wasn't meant to do, and paid for it with my first life." The words weren't angry. They were devoid of all emotion, hollow yet he rumbled with calm as if he were meditating. Moss' ears pinned against his head briefly, before setting back to a neutral position. It was the first time he spoke those words out loud since it happened, and the feeling bit him in the heart in an uncomfortable way. "This place is where I was reincarnated. Every part of it makes me feel truly grateful to be alive and under the care of the Gods." The stag blinked and turned his head to stare out at the win'try world outside of the oak they were comfortably nestled in.
"There are wolves, demons, all manner of creatures out there that could and would without any hesitation decide to make a meal of you. However, there are also carnivores out there who would be fine friends as well. There are also deer who wouldn't hesitate to bury their antlers to the burrs into you. There are deer who would share a meal with you as well. It takes a strong mind to determine friend from foe, and a potential fight from a potential playmate." The oak hummed around them, wind gusting over the hole in her roof to cause her to sing. Moss breathed a sigh. "I'm really glad you found this place, Khai. Despite all of its dangers, the forest is much safer than any other world I had the pleasure of learning about from the god of my past." The words were relaxed once more. "That, and it's one of the best places to learn about yourself." The stag's smile was back once more, gently gracing his face.
The fawn twitched at the
"If they're that strong, they can turn me into a REAL bird!" This time the fawn's voice wasn't mocking, it was merely the pouting of a child who didn't get what he wanted instantly. If he would still have been a human child, he would have surely crossed his arms and tried to look tough. Now that he was a young boy reincarnated into a deer, imitating the same gesture proved to be difficult, only resulting in a clumsy attempt to cross his forelegs. It must have looked strange.
Moss' story, however, left the buckling completely quiet for a while. It was one of his rare moments, when he actually listened with all of his heart and thought about life to the best of his ability concerning his age. The fawn had always thought to this point that death was the true salvation, ascending to Heaven the only true goal in life. Dying had been presented as something holy and sacred, something that brought about happiness when experienced for yourself. Yet the story that the older stag was telling him seemed to be more..sad. It was simple and short, yet there was sorrow lodged in those words, probably more than the young male could ever understand. "Does that mean I'll fall too if I learn how to fly?" There was a hint of fear in his words, as the thought of dying twice were planted heavily on his heart. Although as a child he couldn't understand the process of dying, he wasn't brave enough to face that feeling twice. On top of that, he was afraid of being in a different, distant world after dying in this one. Even Moss seemed to be uncomfortable with death, so the fawn took some of his sadness onto his own shoulders. A lesson was learned - death was a bigger thing than the buckling had ever imagined before. There was more to it than what he'd been taught in the human world.
Although the explanation of potential enemies seemed confusing, the fawn made sure to concentrate on every word, another lesson that'd be important for him to learn. He nodded attentively between sentences, his glowing red eyes locking on the older stag's facial expressions at all times. The words seemed to be a little scary, but the fawn wasn't good at being afraid of something that he hadn't ever seen before. He had his imaginations of monsters, but had never seen one in this world. He'd only be afraid of one upon meeting them. However, the words would certainly succeed in making him more cautious of his surroundings. "I'll grow strong antlers and fight them back if it comes to it - I'll learn to protect those dear to me." His arrogant, tough tone made a return, as he tried to imagine the day he would grow up. The fawn wanted to grow to be a courageous, heroic young stag, with a strong mind and a strong body.
"Mommy said people like you and me can become monsters too," The babe's voice was quieter than before as he expressed the worry that had been taught to him since his days a baby. It was one of his greatest fears, to become bad. Not only because he feared that the adults would judge him again, but because he needed to feel he was a good child. If he'd ever feel like he'd grown up to be a bad person, he was sure he'd turn into an empty, meaningless shell again. "I'm afraid of becoming a monster, Moss. Will I grow up to be one?" The fawn looked at the wiser stag, as if he was supposed to know a simple answer to such a complicated question.
The gentle smile that he once again received did soothe the young male, but once again were the other one's words too symbolic for the fawn to understand. "Myself? What can I learn about myself?" He had never heard of such a thing, as he had been raised under a strict set of rules and regulations that allowed no room for free thinking and your own analyses of the world around you as well as yourself.
Moss let the silence sink in.
Moss let the silence sink in. He used it to gather himself back to his calm state, the fur on the ruff of his neck settling. Honestly, the deer hadn't even felt it raise. Now, though, he felt like he had the energy to continue. He listened to each word without speaking immediately this time, until the fawn had managed a complete thought or two. The black and white could tell the babe was learning from this. He was glad, as the child would have a lot more to cram into his brain soon enough.
"You will fall if you try to be something you are not, or if you do something you are not meant to do. These are limitations that everyone faces." A pause. "A strong deer knows their limitations and is respectful of them. With a strong mind, you'll learn all about that." His voice rumbled to a stop for a moment. Moss had to think hard about what to say next. It wasn't as if he would be able to put this lightly, but he could make it less sharp. "Your limitations are the first thing that you need to learn about yourself. If you try and surpass them at the wrong time, you can hurt yourself and others. Hurting others is what makes a monster. " He winced at his own words.
The stag rested his head on the earth, tilting it so that the antlers that grew from it wouldn't hurt the child. His cheek would be lightly marred with dust when he removed it from the earth. Moss didn't care. He could clean up in the snow later. "Try not to use violence unless you have to, Khai. A strong mind will know when and when not to lower his antlers. A strong body will know how to restrain itself." Black eyes trained on the little stag that watched him so intently. Moss felt mentally exhausted, but he hid it well enough. The fawn wouldn't know any different.
The fawn felt increasingly
Still, the whole rules and boundaries thing did annoy the little one. The fawn knew not that setting those lines was an important part of loving someone, and the Gods were merely showing their care for the Forest by watching over the the inhabitants' wrongdoings.
The young male couldn't understand what it meant to know one's limits, nor what was a good and what was a bad time. His old family had never spoke of heavy, elaborate subjects like this, and it was easy to confuse the fawn. It was only thanks to the hint of the demonic blood in him that allowed him to remember every single word of what the stag said. It made it so that the child's memory was excellent and always prone to take in new information, and it would only develop due to situations like this. In fact, Moss was helping the fawn more than he even would know himself. The buckling's brain connections were constantly making changes, adapting to all the information that was pouring on him.
"But I've hurt others before." He whispered weakly, staring at his legs which were shaking slightly. It was quite clear how much the fawn was afraid of becoming one of the monsters, as if it was an easy thing for one to accomplish. That's what Khairah believed - just one wrong step could throw him deep into the darkness.
Quickly correcting his words, the fawn's voice was frantic. "I didn't mean to do it, I swear! It just.. happened." The fawn turned his gaze back to Moss, a hint of desperation showing in his eyes. He was scared of the answer, but he HAD to ask. "Does that mean I'm a monster, too? Can I learn everything in time? Maybe I will never have a strong mind. Perhaps I will grow strong and start hurting others on purpose.." Incredibly frightened by his own words, the buckling leaned against the older stag once more, tears beginning to form in his lactrimal ducts - a sign that he had been once a human boy. His voice was quivering with overwhelming sadness, a fear that was so deep that it could be even considered a traumatic experience. "I don't want that, Moss."
Sorry about that, haven't
---
The fawn's words were startling, to say the least. "Not wanting it is the first step to fixing the issue." Moss smiled. "I don't believe that you're a monster, Khai. And you'll learn. You want to learn, so you'll learn." The black and white sighed, an antler bumping the wood as he lifted his now dusty face to not be so close to the ground. "Anything you did before you came here is another lifetime ago. If the Gods forgave you and sent you here, then it's time for you to forgive yourself so that you can move toward having a strong mind and a strong body."
Moss thought a moment. The wind licked ravenously at the tree outside, making the proud oak's branches hiss and quiver. For the sake of the forest, winter needed to begin packing her things and find a new place that needed her particular skills. The only warm things around were hearts. That's the answer. Through an odd thought process, Moss had discovered what it was that he needed to say to help the child. "You have the one thing that a monster doesn't, you know." The stag spoke as if of a great secret. "You have a big heart alongside your soul." How he would explain it... it was going to be hard.
"You have a desire to learn, to not harm others, to not become something that others won't like. See how much faster your heart beats when you worry about becoming a monster? That's because it's trying to warn you of something important. A monster's heart would beat quickly, but there's no soul alongside it to tell it what is right and wrong."
That's okay! Just take your
I hope you'll be okay soon.
----------------------
The fawn listened to Moss' comforting words, every muscle on his body focused on the older stag's existence. He didn't remember ever meeting one with so much wisdom, with so much kindness towards the world around him. Khairah had lived under the assumption that adults were cruel and complicated beings, their only desire being to manipulate their young, to hurt them and to shape the world to their own liking. Even his mother, the woman he had loved from the very bottom of his heart, had done some awful things that the child had never understood. This was a whole new level of caring and guidance, and the buckling was quick to cling to this wise individual.
The older stag's words reassured him, and his body stopped its violent shaking in an instant. Although he certainly couldn't understand everything that was said, he understood that he was definitely not a monster. In fact, it felt a little silly now that he had ever thought that way. "I have a heart." He repeated it out loud slowly, tasting the line of words in his mouth. As if to add to his own thoughts, his heart made a small, joyful sound. Pump. A quick, joyful beat that told him everything was okay. From that instant, the young male knew - he knew that he would know the boundaries between what was right and what was wrong. The fawn's expression changed completely, his mouth forming a huge smile, and his red eyes sparkled in the darkness. Despite the small hint of the demonic blood in him, in that moment the buckling was nothing more than a normal fawn, who had just learned something important from life. "I have a heart! I have a soul! I have a big heeeaart!" He quickly stood up, repeating that same sentence as he bounced happily inside the Oak, the peaceful hum seeming to be louder in his ears for a minute. He wondered if the tree was happy, as well.
The branches' loud crackles did take the fawn by surprise, and he fell all over his thin legs. It didn't matter much, nothing would be able to ruin his mood now. He felt that much more mature, even if it was just a fawn's hope to be much older than now.
Crawling back to the black and white's side, the buckling buried his face happily in the black spot of the older stag's fur and sighed happily. For once, he felt safe and protected, even though no real danger was around. He was ready to move on to other questions that pressured his young mind. "Why are you all by yourself? Aren't deer supposed to be wander in groups.. or families? Friends?" He remembered seeing a whole herd of deer from a hilltop back in his old world, and he recalled being slightly jealous of them. They had been protective of each other, working in a group to enchance their chances for survival and caring deeply for every member. Yet he hadn't seen one herd in here, and it did sadden him. He felt as if it would have been safer to travel in a group and defend each other other than everyone looking after themselves.
The fawn's joy was shared by
The fawn's joy was shared by the black and white stag in that moment. It was good. As the buckling bounced around, Moss watched in satisfaction. But quick as it was, he was again nestled beside the larger male and asking more difficult questions.
"I am alone because I choose to not be a part of a family in this forest. I like everyone, so I don't linger with a single group. There are many families of creatures in this forest. Many more groups of friends. But I consider everyone to be an equal opportunity to make a friend of. It doesn't bother me if some reject my offer, but I gave it a shot." The stag chuckled a moment. He noticed an errant leaf dangling from the fawn's fur. Carefully, Moss plucked it free and tossed it aside.
The stag listened to the crackling and rattling of branches overhead. Sometimes it made him think of the Rut, where every male in the forest would turn on one another. It was a single time when he was glad to just hide alone and not come into contact with any males. He didn't feel the rush they did, nor the emotions they did.
The stag relaxed, and braced for more questions. Children were insatiable.
Still in a Euphoria-like
If the fawn could be completely honest, the answer was not what he had hoped to hear. He had hoped to hear stories of herds or certain groups that went in and out of this Forest, not that everyone seemed to be concerned for themselves and only sticking in tight, impregnable pairs that would most likely shut out any possible newcomers. The fawn made a small frown, sticking closer to Moss. "Why would anyone reject you? People seem rude! I'll just stick with you and this tree." He concluded, puffing up his cheeks to show his discomfort. He wasn't depressed , as he had somewhat gotten used to being alone and playing by himself. However, any distant hope that he had had of having a new father or mother had now disappeared, and he felt pain in his chest - a pain that he remembered having in the previous world. It scared him a little, but at least he was safe in here. He didn't have to be scared any longer.
Looking up at the stag, the fawn's eyes were wide open, seeking for sincere answers. "But doesn't that make you lonely or sad?" He rolled over onto his back, listening to the Oak's quiet hum, taking all of it in. He could only imagine how beautiful this place'd be during the flourishing seasons, they were probably even prettier than he could even imagine.
Little did the fawnling know of the rut, or the effects that the hormones would have on his body after a certain amount of time would pass.
"Every creature has a choice
"Every creature has a choice in who they want to spend their time with. If they reject my company, then that is a choice they make themselves. It's impolite to try and force oneself on another if they tell you to leave." The stag couldn't help but feel gratitude when the fawn spoke of sticking to him.
"If you stuck to me the whole time, you wouldn't get to make friends of your own. I know that there are some creatures out there that would choose to be your friend but not choose to be mine. There's all sorts of choices others can make." Moss watched the child roll over, longing for the times when he too could lay on his back and enjoy the sun over his whole tummy in the warm months, back when his antlers weren't so large. It was a comfortable position. Oh how he wanted to be rid of those tines!
Lonely? Sure, sometimes, but he could just go find another to rest with if he was lonely. "If I am ever wanting a companion, I can just go and find another deer to play with. There are a lot of deer who don't care who their company is. One of the most fun things, when I can't find anyone to share time with, is to go and find a Nameless deer. Those deer are plain brown and have no pictogram of their own. However, they enjoy playing quite a bit, and are often great company." He chuckled, thinking of how childlike and fun they were. "But I am never lonely, since I have myself for company." Moss let the kid mull that over... it was a hard thing to understand.
As the fawn listened, he
The thing the fawnling especially couldn't understand was the stag's way of choosing his friends - or rather, the way of not choosing them. It seemed like the older stag was ready to accept everyone as they were, and was willing to spend time with everyone. It was something that Khairah pushed to the back of his mind as a reminder - you couldn't force one to be your friend. However, something about his words did bother the buckling. "But I don't want to be friends with other fawns! He pouted, puffing up his cheeks once more. He thought Moss meant "fawns" when he spoke of "friends of his own." After all, the young male didn't believe that adults could be the friends of children. Adults were authorities and teachers, but never were they friends. However, the fawns of this place were cruel, and seemed distant. Too childish and confusing. "They either bully me or avoid me, call me horrible things. Because I look like this." The fawn was referring to his dark pelt, not the usual orange, spotted fluff that the others were blessed with. Of course, his eyes were the biggest problem. They scared others, and made them shut him outside of their little circles. Khairah didn't fully understand why. He thought of himself as kind and playful, polite, even. Still, others tended to run off when they saw him approaching - or worse, they started to laugh and bully him.
Khairah had never heard of a creature called 'nameless deer'. To him, a term like that sounded sorrowful, terribly lonely. "How can anyone be nameless, Moss? Don't they have parents? Don't they get bullied for that?" He looked slightly sad, feeling bad for those creatures. It didn't matter if they were nice to others, he didn't feel like someone without a name would mean much for anyone else - after all, how could you remember them if you ever saw them again and wanted to play with them?
It just sounded like they were lonely, having to be called by that term.
The fawn's outburst surprised
The fawn's outburst surprised the stag. Not friends with other fawns? Once Moss heard how the babe had been treated, though, he understood. Children of any species could be horrible if not educated in respect. Sometimes even after a proper education they chose not to be kind. Was Khai really choosing the right groups? Maybe not. But Moss was aware of how difficult these choices could be, especially when you had never had proper social contact of all kinds.
"Some fawns are mean, yes. But you'll find that both in fawns and adults. If you don't try, you'll never find good friends, either fawn or adult. Some of my good friends are around your age. Maybe you'll run across them here in the forest. I think that they would accept you very quickly." Calfuray, Arcturus, and others would be kind to Khai, he thought.
The fawn asked questions that were hard to answer, simply because very few knew much about the nameless. "Nobody really knows where Nameless come from, really. They just appear, and I don't think that they have parents other than the Gods. They can be annoying sometimes, but others don't go out of their way to bully them. They're treated well, since they often don't seem to know what they are doing or how to interact with others." Nameless were more or less treated like young fawns, but the stag wouldn't say that out loud. He didn't want to hurt the child's self-confidence by that.
As soon as Moss finished his
The buckling did his best to try and understand the nameless. He did agree that they sounded like wonderful company, and he couldn't wait to meet one of them. "They're really mysterious, then! I want to play with one." His ears twitched with excitement as the fawn peered outside, where the snow had started to fall. At first he was desperately trying to be lucky and locate one of those nameless fellows, but the falling snow quickly distracted him. Snowflakes were the prettiest thing, and it always fascinated him how each and every one of them were different. "I guess people are like snowflakes. They're unique. Maybe I am unique, too?" Proud of his new realization, the glow in the fawn's eyes seemed to fade for a moment - the demonic blood in him had seen it best to fade away for now. Khairah was just a fawn, and learning things like this was certainly pushing him towards the road of righteousness.
Doing his best to look away from the beautiful view, the young male's attention was brought back to Moss. He watched those gentle, wise and calm facial features for a long while, a deep, hurtful question wanting to be freed from his heart. It was a tough one, though, and the fawn was afraid of the answer. It would probably make him look like a dummy. He opened his mouth as to speak, before quickly changing his mind and moving his gaze to his hooves. He had asked that same question from his father, once, and had not liked the answer. What if Moss would say the same?
Adults weren't friends? The
Adults weren't friends? The babe explained parents, and Moss took the time to listen. He pondered a moment, then spoke. "Age is only a number. Fawns and adults have things to teach each other. Sure, Fawns have a lot to learn, but they also know more than adults in some aspects. Since you can learn from each, you can most certainly be friends with both." He hoped that wasn't too confusing.
Nameless were definitely a good way, the deer thought, to help the fawn learn about interacting unbiased. It was often a one-way conversation with a Nameless, but they did offer something of a reply that wasn't judgmental and took things at face value. Such was a way to learn the language of this place, he supposed.
"There is absolutely no other you in the universe." It was true, and that is pretty much the only thing that made the fawn unique, since like every other thing in the universe Khai had some sort of being, and everything after that in building what it was to exist.
Again, it was definitely a
"I know something adults don't?" The fawn tilted his head in confusion, a hopeful sensation growing within him. He hadn't forgotten the times when he had tried to stand up to injustice back in his old world or the times when he had figured out something new. The adults had only laughed, or they had scolded him for being a silly child and not to think of such matters. The child had learned to keep his thoughts and emotions to himself, as compared to the adults, he was an ignorant runt. Yet it seemed that everything was different in this world. It worried the babe, but made him excited at the same time. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about this Forest - and what it meant to be a deer. "How can I make friends, Moss? I feel like the other fawns don't understand the way I say hello. I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong." He gave the black and white a saddened shrug. He wanted to have friends, both old and young, if it was truly possible. But he didn't know much about being a deer. He hardly knew how to jump around without getting clumsy and tripping over his own legs.
The buckling smiled widely as Moss acknowledged him being unique. It meant a lot to the fawn, as he wanted to stand out from the group, to be seen and liked by everyone without being judged by his appearance. He was different, but the term "unique" sounded much more comfortable to the fawn. "You're unique, too. I don't remember an adult ever speaking to me this way." He whispered, a little embarassed about his words. He wasn't completely sure how complimenting others worked.