August 30, 2015 - 10:53pm — Companion
Quiet there, among the flowers, watch as you walk nearby. Careful now, should your hoof land too close to the petite nose that protrudes ever so slightly from the powder-white fur of a moon-shaped face. The babe sleeps just there among the bugs and the green grasses. Long lashes interlock to hold shut eyes so tired that the lower-lid threatens to fall open. The mouth, on the other hand, is held shut by the earth beneath the babe's petite chin. The small amount of speckled brown hide skillfully seems wrapped into a smooth bun-shape at the other end of the baby's neck. Quietly she bakes in the gentle glow of the sun. The only scent around her is that of the lush greenery and warm soil.
bump?
Yes please! I'm out of the
(No subject)
I apologize for the long
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The babe is not alone in its sleep for long. Close enough to observe yet far enough not to disturb, another child stands quiet and unmoving in the rippling shadow of a tree, where a few moments ago there was no such child to be seen.
She is nigh invisible in her coppery attire as dappled light spills across her narrow back and the thin collar of feathers draped lightly across her shoulders. A spot of gold slicks back the shadow from her cheek, then returns to framing her left eye. A bright hazel coin twinkling with tenderness, it and its twin's gaze rests enchantedly on the small bundle lying on the ground.
The quiet fawn blinks slowly at the endearing sight, lowering heavy eyelids like a bemused owl. Her head tilts almost imperceptibly upward as she tries to find some trace of a parent or guardian. It is not so unusual to see a small child alone in the grasses here and surely a hidden retinue cannot be far away, ready to return and protect in a heartbeat. Except... She frowns and wrinkles her nose in confusion. Odd.
A bee flies lazily past and fills the air with heady buzzing as it sets course for the tall grasses full of its comrades and fragrant, drooping flowers. She follows its winding path with her eyes as she ponders and her throat vibrates in thoughtful, if unintended, immitation of the insect. Silence is quick to return, however – she is afraid to risk even the softest of hums for fear of waking the babe.
The bee bobs through the air
Some of the golden pollen reaches the little rose-colored nose of the babe. She breathes it in, unaware that the little specs could cause a reaction detrimental to her sleep. In fact, she was unaware of anything at all.
The tingling sensation first caused a pause in the peaceful expression of the babe. This was followed by a wrinkle in her once-placid expression. The fawn's fur ruffled, her head shot up on a thin and graceful neck... and then a sharp puff of air and fluid as the babe expelled the offending golden powder. Her ears wobble with the motion, unable to hold still.
For a second, she's stunned. Green eyes sharply blink away the offending feeling. For a moment, they well with salty tears in order to protect them from anything more offensive. Nothing comes. The babe blinks away the water in her eyes.
It was of no use to return to sleep now that she had awoken. The fawn bent her neck around, licking at the white-flecked brown fur at her shoulders in order to encourage it to flatten back down. The fluff of white that appeared beneath her tail, however, would take much longer to return to its relaxed state, if it did at all. With a worried expression directed at it, the babe sighed.
It was then that her eyes rested on the visage of the other child. At first, as her eyes adjust, it is difficult to recognize that Dove is even there. Once she does, however, the babe freezes to stare unabashedly at the fawn.
She watches the tubby little
The grass is still buzzing with life as she steps out of the turbulent play of shadows and into the vibrant weave. Careful not to step on some unsuspecting denizen of the green, she hops her way over the denser growths of flowers and their keepers towards the babe. For all that she is younger, she is still a child and thus a fellow – the trust put into that bond tying all things that are yet to see their bloom and are only just beginning their growth more than suffices to put haste into her step.
The tiny sneeze, however, announces that it all came to nothing. Her ears prick up curiously one by one as first the babe's sneeze and then her stare fall on her. Her head bobs up and down in greeting when she meets eyes of bright green (like her own once were, a time ago) and quicksilver swift.
Hello, hello, her body conveys with the movements of her tail and ears, there among the grass and flowers, hello to you.
The little green eyes stare
Quickly, the tiny fawn rocked to her hooves. Brown, twig-like limbs are hard to control, though, and she skitters and slips until finding purchase on the forest's dewy floor. Her ears moved wildly until finally she could retrain focus on the other child. It is only then that the fawn bobs in return. Her half-bow is shaky in greeting, but finishes gracefully as her muscles finally understand the motion.
The short, stubby tail at the latter end of the young deer's spine is both flagged and held taut to her body. She is mildly flustered, yet dare not show it. As a fawn born here, she appeared quite similar to all the other babes this forest had thrust into the world without parents. And, of course, she didn't bear the little feathers atop her crown that Doves did.
Unaware of what to do next, Companion tilted her head for the first time. It was a question without words.
Whether they were stirred by
Wide eyed at such scandalous behaviour of her confidantes, she gives a small gasp. But, noticing the small one's fascination, she cannot help but to cede and let them indulge in their mutual curiosities. This thought is all it takes and like wild children they instantly begin to toss and tumble playfully around the two. Carried by a wind that can be neither seen nor felt, their number seems great only because of the speed at which they flit to and fro intricately above the flowers.
While the feathers are at their play there are formalities to be exchanged. She mimicks the babe's unsteady bow with a deeply lowered head and a bent knee of her own. As is custom, one foreleg is tucked neatly against her breast while the other points straight and true. Her legs, though just as lanky and struggling to find purchase, have had some experience with this complicated matter and remain mostly steady.
When she looks up, squinting on one eye due to an errant lock of hair, it is to find the babe's tail a traitor. All thoughts on parentage and guardianship abandoned, she blows lightly on the babe's nose and jumps away in the following heartbeat. In the tongue of the orphans there are many ways one might be called to play; one such invitation has just been issued.
Feathers, little lights, it
The little sprite of a deer made a dash to the left. Muscles curling and springing forth, white and brown bouncing up and down as she skipped along. A tail wiggled from one side of a tree's girth, an ear peeked from the other. The sound of bells could be heard among the leaves, as if the forest was laughing with the child who hid behind one of its many legs.
It wasn't difficult to bring Companion joy, or to encourage her to play. A gentle push in the right direction, courtesy of Doves, was all it took to get her nature into gear. However, it was wonderful anticipation to peek out from behind trees and wait for the chaser to catch you.
As the younger fawn flies
In the dappled sunlight Companion seemed to her like a firefly, appearing only in glimmers, mirth trailing after her as infectious as the laughter of the bells. Too breathless to join the giggling, she writes it out in her eyes as she makes a play out of sneaking around a tree, the twirling feathers not helping at all to conceal her from the small one's gaze. Then a flicker of dark hooves and she is behind another pillar, touching her cheek to it gently as she steps yet closer, red fur sliding smoothly against the bark.