-worms in on belly and barfs a tracking device in blog-
-rolls away-

*TRACKING*

lol everyone's just tracking
including me

SO would you prefer human/deer?
And Gabe/Dar or Row/Dar?

Omg human Gabe/Dar would be hilarious XDD' BUT I don't care, whatever you have ideas for because I'm fresh out :3

THATS RIGHT it's my blog so you're supposed to start! Fact! So pick something! -wackswithsalmon- Go with D and Gabe if you want since we're already RPing D and Row in yours hm?

(AHAHAHAAA -burrows away-)

(Hope you don't mind <3)

Four beats struck the ground in succession, repeatedly, in a fixed and rhythmic beat. The blur of foliage swept by; flashes of green only just beginning to appear on the reaching dead branches grasping at the pinkened evening sky. The stir of ground cover, the scattered calls of birds, and the rapid hoofbeats were the only sounds to pick up on over the gentle wind easing in opposition of his route.
This had become a twice-daily routine; morning and night. The first time he'd picked it up again had been hell, but by now it was tolerable and even enjoyable. More admirable than his former hobbies, at least.
As much as the endorphins encouraged him further, he had become tired after nearly an hour and the muscles in his legs were aching enough for the stag to slow to a trot before eventually coming to a halt at the pond's edge. He gave a brisk shake, panting but generally feeling good- euphoric, even. He waded knee-deep into the shallows to drink interrupted only by heavy breaths and once finished, trudged back to the silted shore and shook again to upset his light golden fur and let the cool air in.
Only once he had stepped lazily up to the dense outskirts of the thicker parts of the forest did his senses catch a hold of something familiar. Ears alert and tail flicking in response, the stag's body locked into place while he tried to determine the origin of the scent that was still instantly recognizable no matter how much time stretched inbetween their encounters.

He stepped lightly into the thick overgrown brush, heading for a shadowed area tucked away from the well-traveled paths around it. Thorns scratched at his side as he slipped through, careful to place his hooves so as not to make noise. She came into view, just barely, curled up in a secluded bit of ground unlittered by vines and weeds and sheltered by the overgrowth around her. Taking the chance that she was asleep, Masque stepped closer inbetween frequent pauses and still tried to breath at a normal rate. The form huddled under her cover was unwell once he was able to see clearly. Her body was thin, once elaborately decorated pelt had become lackluster and dull, and she looked pale. The stag paused again, simply looking her over where he stood with readable concern in his eyes. His intent was only to pass by her location, but seeing her condition swayed him to stay. Shyla could hide, disappear, or outright despise him, and still the worry of knowing she was ill would hang onto his mind until he could definitively know otherwise.
And so his legs folded beneath him on the spot a mere few feet away where he planned to sit and silently keep her company until she awoke.

He watched the slight inflation of her side, rising and falling steadily, mostly lost in thought. Questions as to why she looked like this were boiling in his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling of personal fault.
There had been a time, not so long ago, when he would have known every small ache she felt. Every cough and every disheartened frown and sigh of disappointment. There was a time when he could sense every red flag, and not rest until she was well.
And now, look. Here she lay, visibly sick and no one around to comfort her. The strong wave of bitter remorse against himself washed through his head. He let this happen. For someone who, gods forbid, cared about him, he had been completely unaware she was suffering.
Paying no attention to the fact that she had risen from sleep, and instead still fixed on her breathing, only the inexplicable sense that one is being watched alerted him to glance over and see her eyes locked on him. She could have been looking straight through him, for what it felt like. Her eyes weren't bright and charismatic anymore, just lacking all evidence of life.
The stag was unsure how long they merely exchanged gazes, perhaps a couple minutes in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, necessarily, on the grounds that he was unsure of what to say. Perhaps she wasn't exactly grateful for his company and wished to be alone. But leaving would only increase his guilt by twofold.
"You don't have to talk to me." He said in a hushed gruff voice, finally looking away and resting his head down on his forelegs so as not to make her uneasy. "I just wanted to sit here."

It was strange how easily Shyla held the stag’s gaze. Eye contact had always been an uncomfortable exchange for the young doe, even among many friends. With Masque it had always been different. Why? It was a question that seemed to have no answer…the Gods knew she had pondered over it enough. Defeat had to be accepted, sooner or later. She had believed in magic, once…
He was right, their exchange was not an uncomfortable one. Their eyes seemed to speak, though the communication was between them alone, never reaching idle, inquiring minds. Nothing was to be learned. Her gaze gave nothing away about her emotions simply because they lay dormant within her, or did.
Something stirred. Something fought through the heavy emptiness of her mind to reach the surface. Her ears lifted halfheartedly, showing signs of life as he spoke. The harshness of his voice was as sweet to her as music and she found herself focused more on the tone then on the words. Words…yes…the last time she spoke was to Aegle many days ago. She could recall the bitter exchange far too vividly. The young doe’s words still haunted her, still ate away at her mind the way her body ate away at itself. She shuddered suddenly, averting her eyes from his, the first glimmer of emotion shining through in the image of pain. She stared instead at the dirt below her, deeply inhaling its earthy musk, trying to hold onto something as emotions began to splash desperately to the surface, afraid of drowning and threatening to pull her down. It wasn’t enough.
“No…Speak.” she whispered, closing her eyes momentarily before shifting her face back up to gaze at him with a subtle look of desperation.
“Say anything…”

Watching him rise, she couldn’t help but feel her heart sink a bit in her chest. He was leaving…she had seen the indecision in his eyes at her request and whatever inner turmoil she‘ created was causing him to leave. She should have known better then to say anything. Perhaps she should have just left him be.
Of course, her doubts quickly abated when he turned and stepped towards her. She tensed a little, uncertain as to what he was planning, her grey eyes following him till he slipped out of sight behind her. Moments later she felt him settle, his warm body pressing against the back of her neck. Lids pulled up over her sleepy eyes in surprise before narrowing again thoughtfully. Why? Why was he doing this? Why was he even here…
Sorry.
An ear twitched against him to catch the bluntly spoken apology, though perhaps he had given her too much credit in figuring out what it could mean. She had no desire to come up with anything to apply it to, and perhaps there were many to choose from…but none that could matter against her own apologies. She had already asked him for forgiveness, and he had given it - or so he’d said. Shyla didn’t trust it. Too much had changed…and no apology would make it better. She could not be cured.
Heat crept to her cheeks at his second comment, her eyes drifting down to the dirt again, lips pinching together in shame upon realizing how terrible she must look. In anyone else’s presence it would not have mattered…he wasn’t supposed to find her here. He wasn’t supposed to know. He had a life now…why wasn’t he off living it? Shyla shifted against him, pulling her legs closer to her body and pressing up against him despite herself, shaking her head in response to his offer. She soaked in his warmth with closed eyes, her body growing thin enough to struggle to produce its own anymore. She hoped her silence would not deter him. What could she possibly have left to say…

Hehe, welcome to the wonderful world of indecision! :3
Wellll....Shyla's rather unresponsive at the moment, especially with those she doesn't know very well, so unless you don't mind that... As for Darcy he can interact with anyone. We haven't seen either of them in a while...

The doe was ignorant to her company’s inner turmoil. Perhaps her mind was already too set in what his life was now that she did not want to accept the signs. She would have known before…would have been concerned. The tenseness of his body, the heavy sighs, the emptiness in his tone…It all drew on her own guarded emotions gradually, but not quickly enough to be on alert.
She didn’t know what she had expected him to say, but the topic matter hr seemed hung up on wasn’t something Shyla was all too eager to hear. Her relaxed lips drooped at the corners as he spoke of her sickness. Sickness…is that what this was? Shyla knew it wasn’t, not really anyways, unless a sickness of the mind counted. Will power, or the lack of, could be as devastating as any disease. He didn’t know what she was attempting. He didn’t know she meant to wither away.
Her eyes began to burn with a familiar yet…strange sensation, moisture pooling at the corners. She again tried to curl into a tighter ball, but her body ached at the attempt, her joints creaking in pain and causing her to suck in breath - and choke out a sob. Shyla hadn’t truly cried in a long, long time. The feral side of her often never let her get that far. Turning to fear and flight was far easier…far less humiliating. She had wept all the time as an adolescent. She felt that way now, small and insignificant, a pitiful sight to behold, being cradled like a child. The animal was weak inside her, too far gone to come to her aid, so her body shook as she attempted to fight the emotion on her own.
You’ll be alright.
The doe shook her head firmly at the words, pressing her face against the dirt, clenching her gaunt jaw to keep from crying out. No…she didn’t want to be all right! He was here now…but for how long? He shouldn’t be here…
“I…w-w-wasn’t there…” she whispered into the soil, her voice but a stammered breath, her now glistening eyes staring somewhere far off.

Shyla could recognize his half-hearted attempt to comfort her, but she wasn’t disappointed. She had always known Masque was never one for expressing deep emotions, or knowing how to deal with them…which had always been fine because neither was she. No, she was far more disappointed in herself acting this way in front of him, ashamed he had to feel he needed to comfort her. She swallowed a sob forcefully, closing her eyes tight to squeeze the tears back and taking a deep, shuddering breath in attempts to get control over herself. He had asked a question, after all…one she certainly wasn’t looking forward to answering. Why had she said that? It had never been brought up between them…she had accepted his forgiveness for disappearing and had moved on, avoiding the topic at all costs. How could she avoid it now…
“I w-wasn’t there for you…I g-g-gave up… everything. All I ever do…is cause pain…”
She sighed and shook her head, shifting her neck against the weight of his head.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, more for her reaction then for the past as she sniffled back the last of her tears. She had already said her sorry‘s, and she knew they amounted to nothing.

Once she had gotten her tears under control the shame only grew. Perhaps it would have been better to just let loose, after all. Why did she care anymore? She wasn’t supposed to care. That was the point…wasn’t it? Then why was she still holding so tightly…
Her head shook halfheartedly from side to side as he spoke, not wanting to hear it. Maybe she didn’t expect comforting words, but even still his argument for her was weak. It distressed her. Could he truly be that ignorant? Or was he simply downplaying the whole event? Either way she felt a tad insulted, a tad bit smaller nestled beside him. No, she couldn’t be going through all this for nothing, as he seemed to claim she was. Maybe she wanted him angry…maybe she wanted the blame. His stoic nature was easily interpreted as indifference in her weakening state of mind, all the things she knew about him fading into the fog. But then…what did she know? He had been reborn into a state of mind she was no longer a part of. How could she ever be…
“No…big deal…? Is that what this… is?” she spoke against her better judgment, her voice sounding a bit clearer now that her emotions were in check.
“Then I’m happy for you, Masque. Happy you found someone to live for. But…that isn’t really the point…is it? One must live…for one’s self…I’m happy you found yourself, then…Sorry I…didn‘t get a chance to get to know him…”

Shyla filled the silence with more guilt. She knew even as she spoke her last words that it had been wrong of her. That very mortal need to blame was surfacing, and it flip flopped between herself and, distantly, others. She wanted everyone to think her guilty of some crime, to be wrong, and to justify her emptiness. Why wasn’t Masque doing that? He was not at fault. He could do nothing to prevent the twists and turns happening within her broken mind. Now he was silent, and she knew why, because after all, he was mortal, too…
She was hurting him. She was hurting him the way she’d hurt him before, the very reason she was here to begin with. The realization made her cringe. What was she doing…it had all made so much sense! He wasn’t supposed to be here…he wasn’t supposed to make her stop.
His words sounded distant to her. It’s not your fault….it’s over with…I’m the same. What did these reassurances mean to her? She was not so foolish as to think he would say anything otherwise to try and stop her. Death scared people, and they’d do anything to avoid it. Shyla had made her peace and embraced the coming darkness. The same question echoed throughout her mind now, the one she hadn’t been able to find an answer to before. Before seemed so long ago…back when she was thinking clearly, or so she’d thought. What about now? What was the answer now?
Her own silence carried itself out long after he spoke. They lay there in darkness now, the pink light turning to purple and now, a pale blue. Insects that had been quiet around them as they spoke now erupted into song and a lightning bug or two drifted by in search of a mate. She had enjoyed such routine wonders before…
“Suppose all that is…true. Suppose you forgive me…and suppose Aegle forgives me…and s-s-suppose you both want me to stay. What reason…otherwise…do I have to stay for? What reason other than…because you want me to…? What do you live for...?”
This was the question. This was the root of all doubt. What mattered more? Lids fell sleepily over her eyes as they drifted towards the ground, her expression falling lax again as her last productive thoughts mulled over the possible responses.

Her question hung in the darkened air between them, awaiting the answer that he regretted not having immediately to give her. Each second passed by and he felt the pressure to answer growing stronger, but was unable to think of the right thing. What she had said struck another chord with him- one that once again made him feel guilty. Was she really only here because he wanted her to be? His selfishness hadn't known boundaries before, so this should have been no surprise. With great difficulty, Masque started to realize just how much she didn't want to be here any longer. It wasn't mere speculation, nor was it a subdued feeling. There really was no answer he could give her.
"I guess... His voice halted, as if he didn't want to admit it. "If you don't have a reason, then, well...you don't."
He didn't want to try and justify his own selfishness- not to her. Not now. And it was hard to keep from saying anything else. If it was true that she had nothing to stay for, there was nothing he could tell her. Despite everything, maybe she really felt nothing for him or anyone. Believable; it's not as if there was anything even remotely special about him, and he could readily say the same about Aegle as it stood currently. Wanting her to stay was asking too much. Shyla looked as though she'd reached the end of her case; she probably knew he couldn't convince her otherwise. She seemed so tired, not just tonight, but with everything weighing down on her constantly. It was enough to sway him away from saying anything more (I'll miss you.) Instead, the stag simply breathed a sigh and let the ambiance of dusk fill the air.

Flef:

Sigh.
The inward sound of defeat was all that came to mind. So the truth was out, then. His own defeated and halfhearted response confirmed it. She wanted to be comforted. How selfish…and wasn’t she the one preaching against selfishness? Perhaps she was not so distant from the world, after all… How could she be doing this to him? How could she be so wretched?
Her train of thought grew less and less complex, the distress weighing heavily on her weakened state of mind and body. She had shocked herself into a cold silence, staring out into the dark, straining to force her painfully tired eyes from closing. She shifted a little, the sensation of his warm body against her feeling all wrong. It wasn’t his fault. If she were him she would have left already…but then, wasn’t that what she was doing? It was a battle of selfishness, and how could such a battle be won?
“Mm…maybe…you could go find…something now?” she finally suggested after several minutes of silence, referring back to his offer of food. Of course, whether she had any intention of eating it or not wasn’t entirely clear to her, but she couldn’t have him stay there, and she couldn’t stay here with him. Not after that… Perhaps the request would even give him hope. It was a temporary solution from a less-than-functional mind, one had to excuse the flaws in such a plan, but even if he did choose to oblige her…she would not be awake upon his returning to realize them.

[We don't have to continue this ^^ Poor girl is digging herself a terrible hole. But things have imporoved since this point, as I'm sure you've realized. What a fickle thing...]

POOH:
Offers the stranger a weak, weary smile.
“You sing beautifully. To know such a sad song…thank you for your concern…”

This takes place in the birch forest, shortly after Kiyoko and Amazon left.
I felt Esll needed to say something to Shyla about his behavior yesterday. <3

- - -

She sat facing the expanse of the forest. He sat beside her, facing the opposite direction. They were the only two in that area; it was quiet, though not awkwardly so. The tall grass around them swayed gently in a fresh breeze, creating a natural, familiar hissing sound as the stalks rubbed together. Small sparrows flitted from the giant birch trees, singing softly to one another. The small earth key tied to the butterfly stag's antlers swung a little in the breeze. Esll listened to these sounds, letting it soothe him, but the continuing silence between him and Shyla was beginning to make him uncomfortable. He knew what needed to be said... it was finding the right words that was the problem.

"Shyla," His soft voice interrupted the orchestra of nature, "I believe I need to... account for my behavior yesterday. I was not... myself." He faltered and went silent, for his mind had instantly protested against him. Not yourself? No... that was you, the part she doesn't know about. Esll swallowed, resisting the urge to shake his head, as if that would do any good. "I guess... what I'm trying to say is... I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Please believe me when I say... it wasn't you. It was me. I was the problem. I'm sorry." He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He stole a look in her direction, fearing for her reaction.

She was taking this too well. Esll's ears went back ever so slightly as he absorbed her reply, the pent in breath blowing softly from his nostrils. He didn't know what he was expecting her reaction to be, but not this. Acceptance? Reassurance? He looked again at her, but her lids were already closed; he could not see whatever emotion she housed in them at the time. Could she really be sorry for him? No, she couldn't feel that. He had spent so long gaining her trust, coaxing her to eat and drink... He had helped to speed her recovery. How could she be sorry for him when he hurt her without cause, at least to her knowledge? He felt his eyelids closing as well, as if to block out the feeling of shame and remorse overcoming him. She didn't understand... she made him happy, being in her presence made him happy. But it was that very happiness that tortured him, brought out the side of him he never wished for the world to see...

"No, this can't go on." He had no idea what he was proposing, but he needed to say something, anything to reassure her that everything would be alright. "I have... betrayed the trust I forged with you the day I decided to help you get better." Esll's mind returned to the day he first saw the doe, weak and frail, walking steadily ahead of him, passing in and out of the rolling fog like a ghost. She had come along way since then. "I can't let that happen again. I can't let... my petty emotions stand in the way of our friendship. I will try harder to protect you. I promise. But please... don't leave me."

Her second reaction was even more startling. Immediately the stag's body tensed, and he shifted his weight in the dirt as if to leap to his hooves as she had just done. His dominant streak told him to get up, to have his eyes level with the doe standing above him. He was vulnerable this way, and she knew it. There was a quick debate in the stag's mind, before he sighed a little in defeat. He was in the wrong... he deserved to be on his knees, pleading for forgiveness. The stag allowed his muscles to relax, his body to slump submissively. Although it was hard to remain in such a humbled state, it was even harder for him to look her in the eyes. Esll forced his head up, ears pinned back in obvious discomfort, and stared back at her through the sockets of the skull. It suddenly occurred to him that she had never seen the color of his eyes...

His heart skipped a beat as Shyla asked the question he had been dreading to hear. What exactly is it...? How could he answer such a question if he didn't even know himself? His heartbeat drummed in his ears and his thoughts raced. How could he explain? Esll thought back to her earlier words. We are all allowed our demons. Demon. No, it couldn't be a demon. Demons were creatures that whispered venomous thoughts, overpowered the physical form they ruled, left the one it possessed in a state of confusion afterwards. His was not a demon. But then... what? Esll concentrated on her face again, trying to read the emotion in her eyes. He couldn't. "I..." He could feel his mouth going dry. "I don't know what it is... what I feel. But I can... overcome it." Even as he said it, he doubted his own words. If he could overcome it, why had he allowed it to happen in the first place? He went on, reassuring himself as much as her. "I don't need protection. Just... forgiveness."