I woke up late again. I didn't mean to. I had slept so roughly. Up and down throughout the night, rolling this way and that to get comfortable. Just before dawn I seemed to drift off into a permanent sleep- to then wake after mid day, and realize how late it was.

I raced first to the Ruins. To the mushroom hill where Gwen had found me the day before. My tail was wagging with excitement. Cresting the hill, I sniffed the air... I bellowed... There wasn't a sound except for fellow deer milling around. I bolted, towards the pond to try and find her.

I looked everywhere. The last place was the God's statue- and I did smell her there. But only faintly. I had missed her!

Hanging my head, I wandered around. And while I didn't come across Gwen, I did find her suitor. Sir Galahad. My blood boiled and my belly flopped. I slowly, reluctantly approached with my head held high. But peace had to be made. If he saw me as a scoundrel, he would surely attack me. Perhaps he didn't even recognize me from before. Surely my scent, if not from the name emblazoned in gold above my head.

I bowed. He stood, and bowed back. I stiffened my resolve- then dropped my head in submission. Sadly, I bowed again and shuffled my hooves. I don't know if he understood, or not, but we put our necks together in a moment of commiseration. Then we sat, as Gentlebucks, until he drifted away to another part of the forest to his own devices.

It was a sad moment. The saddest of the Rut. Giving away my flimsy chance of winning Gwenhwyfar's heart, not by merit of a spar, but by conceding defeat... it didn't feel stagly at all. But, my own selfish need to look proud, and princely, and strong would only make the doe sad to be without her Galahad.

And I couldn't stand to see a doe sad.

Things picked up later- The whole forest seemed alive- it was a party! There was a mad dash to the side of the pond, to the sound of bellowing. We danced- a great long dance, aligning ourselves in shapes and long rows, even I daresay, into a Deeramid. I was in the middle of a great pile- deer standing on eachother's backs. I imagine there was some Godly help in keeping us all upright. I didn't join in dancing after the great tower was four deer high... my back was beginning to feel terribly achey!

After the tower was built, and carefully deconstructed, we sat together, all in a row. I waited for someone to stand, and address us, but it didn't seem to happen. So, I stood, and walked out before the line. I bowed..
And clumsily tried to tell a story.
I made mad gestures, trying to put across the story of two brother stags in combat, their antlers locked in place, how they were committed to battle things out even though they were clearly stuck- a moral fable. I don't think I made myself clear, however, and my gestures became the subject of a great game of Simon says. So, I sat back down, and 'Dagnire took over where I left off. He has the silver tongue better than I do.

In the midst of dancing, there were masks swapped, and spells casted. There was more dancing, more games. But waves of dizzyness, drowsiness started to hit me, so I sat down amongst the prancing rabble. They joined me, and I sat center place in a row of five or six deer, that dwindled to four, and then finally two- A buck in brown fur with little spots sat beside me the whole time, while I felt dizzy and meek once again. I dozed by his side, dimly aware of the world around me, bellowing, and hoof beats that made my head ache. He never faltered. He just sat quietly by my side. My head was on the ground, eyes peeked open now and again. I was faintly aware when he put his head down on the ground next to mine. I was comforted by this... It was a silent camaraderie that I have come to love in my kin.

After all the boiling tensions from the Rut, I could still sit, side by side, with a stranger stag, and feel confident enough to fall asleep by his side.