Closer

Closer

Featuring Crowe and Corvus

Early Spring, Year 757 of the New Age
Oakfern, The River Swan



Corvus
Wintering in Blackwood had left Corvus a few pounds lighter, a few stories richer, and overall eager to leave the harsh, brutal land. The fawnlings that stubbornly called Blackwood home had varied from interested, to suspicious, to downright violent of the dark stranger and his fire magic, but he’d made enough warm acquaintances to weather through the season relatively safely. The herd at large had been covetous and protective of both their food and their does - both of which were in short supply - and had offered Corvus only enough of the former to keep him around to work his entertainment.

He would have left sooner, had it not been for a promise he had made back in the icy rain of Oakfern.

The tiny gray doe had been on his mind often over the harsh winter and, with no Blackwood does to keep him warm at night, she had often flitted through the forefront of his thoughts when he was lonesome. The memory of her, soaked from the rain and looking up at him with the fringes of warmth in her sightless eyes, flooded Corvus with a bevy of emotions he was hard-pressed to label, emotions that he had crushed down into a corner of his heart instead of exploring them, for fear of what they might mean.

Corvus used does. He charmed and lied to them, played the game and then left for greener pastures. His heart sang for freedom, terrified of ever being tied down, terrified of ever being in one place too long. So why was it whenever he thought of the tiny Oakfern doe, his heart quietly murmured a different tune, equally as terrifying, but for different reasons?

Nevertheless, at the first meager signs of spring, Corvus had pulled up his stakes in Blackwood and made the journey back to the Oakfern border in record time. The black stag had camped out for almost a week, never straying too far from his makeshift encampment for fear of missing her. Every day, he carefully watched the rainforest, silently hoping to hear harsh crows overhead. Every day, he had picked a flower and stood, waiting to give it to the tiny gray doe.

Would she remember the promise?

Crowe
Crowe often wished she could shed her thoughts as easily as she shed her winter coat. With the absence of sight, she thought a lot more about what she could hear, feel and smell around her. Oftentimes this was helpful, but lately, it seemed a curse. Training with her mentor usually helped keep unwanted thoughts from creeping in, but Berach had duties and could not always be there to test her, to push her to the point where the only thing she could do was not think.

Now was one of the times she was left maddeningly alone with her thoughts. Thoughts of a charming black stag, seeking passage to the edge of Blackwood territory after being very much lost in the swamps of Oakfern. She almost wanted to smile, thinking back on it. Usually she tried as hard as she could to quash these foreign emotions... It wasn't what she was used to. Physical contact, interacting and speaking with another... that was alien to her. She had drowned trespassers in her home before and never given them a second thought, but this stag... He haunted her. The crows didn't provide much stimulation- though she did understand some of their signs and tells, she could not understand their language. It wasn't much of a loss, Huginn was the one that lead the 'conversation' the vast majority of the time and he was just a big bully.

Often through the winter months her thoughts turned to him, despite her God, her beloved savior, having told her not to let them. The black stag seemed to have made a big impact, although their meeting was brief and not much was said. Gealach had warned her off of him, reminding her of why she was alive in the first place. Gealach was benevolent, but His path for her had no place for the black stag with another God's fire burning inside of him...

Yet, despite the warnings, the dreams and visions, the reminders of the past she had survived... She found herself departing her cave and leaving the moon pool behind. Far behind. Her hooves lead her toward the border between Oakfern and Blackwood, to where she had promised to meet him so long ago in the fall.

The crows called to each other overhead, wheeling and diving, savoring the warmer gusts of spring air. Crowe reminisced as she walked, recalling memories from when she had her sight. She remembered the look of tropical flowers, of fresh green grass and moss. Spring was a beautiful thing. Spring was rebirth, second chances, spring was life. Her hooves carried her slowly but surely down a path of fresh, dewy moss. The forest was alive with the songs of birds and frogs. This seemed like a far cry from the circumstances of their first meeting. Perhaps her God would forgive her for this. Gealach was kind, surely He would understand that she had made a promise she needed to keep. She would not be labeled a liar, and this liaison would be harmless, regardless. She was simply to guide him through Oakfern to the border of the sea, where the foreign shores of Windborne lay across the waters. That was what she assured herself with.

This meeting was harmless. It meant nothing...

Very few things in life truly made Crowe feel a spark of what she would call happiness, but as she approached the border, and as the crows called out to the stag waiting there, she felt a spark of that warmth. She honestly had been worried a bit... That maybe perhaps he would not be there when she arrived. Now, she felt... Well, she wouldn't put a name to it, not out loud, but she certainly felt something. Whether this meant anything remained to be seen. For now she was his guide, carefully stepping over a rotting, felled Oak as she approached.

Crowe was, overall, in much better physical condition despite the harsh winter. Her hipbones and ribs were no longer so prominent, giving her a more... Feminine appearance. As her winter coat had shed out, she had lightened in color, although her pelt still held tight to the deep, rich grey and black shading. Ahead she could hear Huginn cackle at the stag as he went on the attack, while Muninn landed harmlessly overhead.

"Come off of it, you silly bird, your vendetta against him is fruitless. I'd hardly care if he lit your useless corpse on fire," she snapped at the bird, who grumbled and retreated to the branch his brother occupied.

Corvus
The jarring bird call overhead hooked the stag’s attention instantly, and his head snapped up to search the sky, while purple orchid he held hung limply in his mouth. It was the big, mean bird, he was sure of it. With a heart that was suddenly, inexplicably, hammering a rapid staccato in his chest, Corvus turned to watch the treeline.

In his days waiting for her arrival, he had tried to suss out the onslaught of feelings he had for the tiny doe. He had tried to go through and catalog them one by one, tried to find the reasons why this doe, of all the does in the Western Isles, was the one that made him as jittery as a young spike-stag at his first rut. In the end, he had no explanation. After that, he had tried to talk himself out of it: she was Oakfern, and they were wily and not to be trusted. She was tiny, the logistics would never work. She was young - had she even come into season for the first time, yet? He couldn’t tie himself down; he was a wanderer, and liked it that way.

He hoped, desperately, that this trip to the Windborne coast would find him really getting to know the tiny doe, and getting bored with her, as he tended to with all the does in the past. That his thoughts would finally be free of her, and the power she held over him.

Still, when the familiar doe emerged from the foliage, dryer and in better shape than the last time they had met, Corvus’ heart sang and he bounded over to her like an overeager wolf puppy. “Hey! You’re here!” - he stated the obvious from around the orchid in his mouth.

Crowe
With the birds subdued, Crowe continued forward. She usually tried not to go far from her den, especially on her own, but in this circumstance, and despite the danger, she truly... Didn't mind it. The idea of not caring threw her. She didn't understand, but she wasn't going to delve very far into the reasoning. It just wasn't worth it to give herself a headache over feelings, of all things.

The grey doe pulled up short when she heard the big stag approach. He had been conscious of his size before, but she tried to be extra cautious anyway... Just in case.

Hearing him again, the excitement in his tone, it gave her this fluttery feeling in her chest. Clearing her throat, she forced calm, looking upward to where she had heard his voice.
"I said I would come. Did you think I would go back on my word?" Her tone was not accusatory, simply... Curious. She honestly did wonder what this stag thought of her, and why he had asked her to meet him again. She tried to tell herself that the reason for his excitement was that her arrival meant he could get to Windborne without difficulty. Right. That was the only reason.

Her nose caught the distinct sharp and clean smell of orchid, but she brushed it off. There were any number of flowers here.

Corvus
Corvus snorted at her question, dismissing it despite the fact that he’d agonized over the possibility that she’d leave him high and dry for the last few days (if not months). “Of course not. It’s just... Nice to see you again. Honest.” he smiled goofily before remembering the gift he still clutched. “Oh! Here! I got this for you.” he lowered his large head down to her level and sheepishly offered her the flower. Without the burden of his massive rack, or the fear of hurting himself or her inadvertently with it, he could maneuver his muzzle much closer to her. It was delightful.

All the thoughts and reasonings he had invented to try and forget her had vanished beneath the swirl of anticipation he now felt. He caught himself looking forward to their short journey, and guiltily squashed the emotion. No need to be an idiot, Corvus.

Even after being relieved of the orchid, he kept his head low. So he wouldn’t loom above her and scare her, he reasoned. Yes, it wasn’t the fact that she smelled nice. Not at all. “Thanks for coming.” he murmured.

Crowe
Her ears swiveled toward him in interest, and she hesitated for half a second. He brought her something? She leaned toward him carefully, nose brushing along his muzzle to the stem of the flower try and feel what she was being given. Carefully she took it from him and was... Well... Embarrassed was probably the best word for it!

"You... Didn't have to bring me this..." She was grasping for the right thing to say, feeling helplessly in the dark. The flower was fragrant and lovely, she was sure. As good as it smelled, it must be in full bloom. She took a moment to crane her neck around and carefully tuck the stem of the flower into one of the few braids in her silky black mane. She had Elf to thank for those.

"But, thank you. I'm sorry, I didn't bring anything," she admitted voice low. She was grateful for the color of her pelt because she was sure she would be flushed. What the hell was this stag doing to her?

Clearing her throat and resuming her calm, she drew herself back up, tail giving a lazy flick. "Are you ready to move on or were you planning to rest before we left?"
'All business,' she reminded herself inwardly. 'This is not a social visit.'

Corvus
A small trill of electricity shot through Corvus as their muzzles briefly met. He lifted his head, both pleased and flustered. “I’m ready to go when you are.” he confirmed, nodding his head once. He had been feeling drained after fretting for days, but her arrival had made him jittery, and he suddenly felt like he had energy to burn.

“Lead the way.” he added softly, admiring the orchid nestled in her braids. Had the birds done those? He looked up at the brothers suspiciously, and couldn’t imagine the gruff things producing anything quite so intricate.

“I hope I’m not taking you away from anything important.”

Crowe
"Hardly," Crowe told him, turning as both birds departed their perch, Huginn with an unearthly shriek. Once again, Huginn took point while Muninn hung back to relay directions. "I should be able to test myself enough on the journey, I'm not concerned." She followed after the soft, rhythmic beat of the smaller crow's wings, one ear cocked back to assure herself he was following.

She was tempted to ask how he had found Blackwood, but bit her tongue on the question. Did she seem too eager if she asked him things? Why was she so nervous... She realized she was being silly, and steeled herself once again. She was supposed to be strong and sure!  

"How did Blackwood treat you?" She managed, hating how hesitant her voice sounded. She'd never had trouble talking to anyone else before... Though... those times her words had been venomous and full of spite. Now, she spoke to him like an equal. Everything he was doing to her was something she had never experienced before. She was fumbling...

Corvus
The black stag followed after her and her avian guides at a sedate pace, so as not to overtake her with his long-legged strides. He lifted his nose to the wind and enjoyed the pleasant weather. As nice as Crowe had looked in the rain, she looked even better in the sunshine and soft breeze. At the mention of Blackwood, he frowned. The herd had treated him well enough, though his reception had hardly been warm. But even if they had welcomed him with open arms, and had showered him in beautiful does and fragrant foods, he still would have fretted about this very meeting.

“It was an adventure.” he finally decided, his words carefully chosen. “I’m part Blackwood myself, although I did not grow up there. They are an interesting people.”

He turned his gaze downward and couldn’t help but grin. “And how about your winter? You look good, so it must have treated you well.”

Crowe
Though she could not see, she sensed light and dark. The feel of the sun on her dark pelt was a foreign sensation, but not an unpleasant one by any means. She tried to keep the pace brisk, knowing her little self wouldn't move very quickly, and taking into account their destination.

She listened to him, one ear cocked toward the crows, the other angled at him to take in his words. She found herself at ease with walking at his side, despite the feelings that churned inside of her.

His words made her stride falter slightly, and she cursed at herself inwardly before looking up at him, chagrined. At first she was tempted to bite out something harsh and mean in response to such a compliment, especially since it made the fluttering in her chest start all over again. She settled for keeping things civil, tail giving the lightest of lashes.

"Kind enough, I suppose." Ugh, her voice wavered at the end. What was he doing?! She grasped for her confidence once again, but it seemed to have fled. Trying to compose herself yet again, frantically searching for a topic to turn the conversation toward, rather than this.

"I assumed you were at least partially Blackwood blood. I might not be able to see you, but the sum of all my other senses tells me you are big." Though when you were as little as Crowe, everything was big.

Corvus
She is too small, too young, and too Oakfern he repeated the mantra to himself inwardly a dozen times in a row before he thought to respond to her comments. This journey was going to be both a trial and a delight all rolled into one amazing, frustrating package. He found himself simultaneously dreading it and looking forward to it.

“I’m big,” he confirmed with a smile tilting his voice towards amusement. “Though, admittedly, not the largest. Some of those Blackwood stags make me look like a yearling.”

He barked with a short bout of laughter, “They could have scooped you up and carried you in their racks as easily as I could carry one of your bird friends.”

The thought was amusing at first, but the more Corvus envisioned it, the more unexplained jealousy blossomed in his chest. He wouldn’t let another stag touch her, if he had any say in i-- what was he thinking? He rattled his head around, confused and embarrassed by the intrusive thought. He chalked it up to leftover hormones from the rutting season. Nothing more.

Crowe
"I'd like to see one of them try," Crowe scoffed, tail lashing at the thought. "I don't care if I am small compared to them, I am no toy." She was often viewed as such, though, because of her minuscule stature. She was small, and often mistaken for a foal, but she had promise to be deadly. Killing was not a new concept to Crowe, and she would do whatever it took to ensure her life continued on.

She glanced up at him now, considering his sudden, stony silence. "Corvus," saying his name, it elicited more of that warm feeling. She chose, again, to ignore it. "What are you thinking?" She asked gently, ears turning toward him, indicating her undivided attention. It wasn't normal for her to care about anyone other than herself, it wasn't usual for her to feel something other than loathing for others of her kind.

Gealach had warned her of this stag, this dark figure walking beside her, with the fire of an alien God in his veins. She knew she needed to proceed carefully, but she found herself helplessly dropping her defenses, opening up despite everything. It was strange and new, but happening all the same. There was no point in fighting...

Corvus
Corvus walked beside her in silence as he mulled over what to say, his hooves falling in dull thuds on the soft ground. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but didn’t fully understand the emotions she inspired himself. How could a stag word something he couldn’t wrap his own brain around?

“Crowe...” he paused and grimaced, the words choking up in his throat like a brick.

“... I was just thinking how nice the weather is. Isn’t it nice? It’s nice.”

He looked away and made a face, confused at his own inability and frustrated by his lack of eloquence. He sighed quietly and plodded on; it was probably for the best that he didn’t muddy things between him and his lovely guide - it would make for one awkward journey if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings.

Crowe
Ah, there it was. He leapt around the question as though it tried to bite him. She hushed up quickly, coming back to herself. She cleared her throat and nodded politely, plodding along beside him.

"Spring always was my favorite," she admitted in a soft voice, "not because of the birds or the fresh grass, but because I can't handle the cold very well." Crowe never readily admitted to being weak, but she was doing a lot of things she'd never dreamed of doing with him. As skinny and malnourished as she had been, she easily got cold. Thankfully Oakfern's climate seemed to keep things a tad warmer, but even the most mild climates could be lethal if she wasn't careful.

Silence was a familiar friend in the small doe's life, but she was scared to let silence fall between them...

"Why do you travel so far?" For a blind creature like herself, moving far from home was deadly. She envied him in a way. Gealach was a constant, so there was nowhere she could go that He would be absent, but she often wished she could leave this place and its memories far behind...

Corvus
Resisting the urge to volunteer to keep her warm, Corvus only smiled gently, content to listen to her voice as they traveled. At her final question, his ears swiveled back against his head briefly. It was a sore spot, but not surprisingly, a question he was asked often. Fawnlings were by nature a herdbound creature, so a solitary traveler was something of an oddity, let alone one that had survived so many years without being eviscerated by some marauding predator.

“I travel for the adventure,” he chuckled, giving her the canned version he’d practiced over the years. It satisfied most curious minds, and he was generally happy to leave it at that. However, something nagged at him to say more; she would understand the rest - she was a loner herself - and he wanted desperately to be understood by her, above all others.

“I travel because I don’t have anywhere to go.” he continued, rolling his massive shoulders back in a shrug, “And... I’m afraid that if I did have somewhere to go, I might lose it. I don’t think I could handle that.”

A pensive frown graced his muzzle. “But what of you? I don’t know much of you.”

Crowe
He finally gifted her with the truth. In a world or suspicion and lies, it wasn't hard to spot legitimate honesty, and something told her that he really did want to tell her the truth, but he knew the world just as well as she did, and he was just as wary as she was. Opening yourself was hard when you've been repeatedly betrayed and let down. Giving second chances wasn't a luxury they could afford...

"I told you my sad story," Crowe murmured, ears twitching back. The crows led them steadily onward, adjusting their route to the one that would be easiest to maneuver. "There isn't much to me, I assure you."

She took a breath and thought on his words, weighing them heavily for a moment. She looked up at him, and she didn't have to force honesty. It flowed now...
"Once you find it- where you belong, I mean- it won't matter. You'll fight not to lose it." Of that much, she was sure. Wherever that place was, wherever they fit into this great tapestry, this puzzle, it didn't matter what obstacles they faced, they would fight to remain.

The only other option was to give up and relinquish everything they loved... Who could live like that?

"What did you want to know, anyway?"

Corvus
Corvus walked in withdrawn silence for a few steps, reflective of her words and the chord they had struck. He gave her a sidelong glance as he worked his lips into a thoughtful frown; would he fight for her? The answer made him hesitate, his first reaction to push it away hastily, but it seeped in through the cracks with a quiet, meek whisper: Yes.

He rattled his head to dispel the thoughts, and awarded Crowe with a game-winning smile, once that translated easily into his voice, “Enough with the sadness, how about something cheerful? How did you come by your bird-brained friends?” he nodded upward toward their avian vanguard.

Crowe
For the first time during the course of their uncanny friendship, Crowe managed to crack a bit of a smile. “I thought you wanted to avoid sad stories,” she teased, sparing him a sightless glance before refocusing elsewhere, ears ever-alert.

“After my mother died, I really didn’t have anywhere to go to. The herd didn’t accept me, so I managed somehow on the fringes of the main herd. Picking at scraps, like the crows. Those two, they were just these fledglings, ugly little cocky birds. They stuck close and stole whatever I could find, so you can see how that developed. Eventually I got tired of them and gave Huginn- he’s the larger one- a sound kick. They must be gluttons for punishment because they’ve stuck with me since. It’s been helpful.” She shrugged a bit.

“At first they were annoying, but after I lost my sight, I found that they could act as my eyes. I’m still limited in what I can and can’t do, but they make travelling easier. Their sharp eyes have saved me from quite a few sticky situations.”

She gave a flick of her tail, heading onward. Ahead, Huginn called out, and Muninn relayed. The coast could be made by nightfall the following day.

Corvus
The black stag turned to look at her quizzically, ears swiveling forward in interest. “Lost your sight?” he lowered his head and eyeballed Crowe’s face thoughtfully; usually any fawnling who wasn’t born blind had lost their sight it some violent manner, but her face appeared spared from any trauma. He nipped at one of her ears playfully, to soften the fact he was staring at her.

“Well, I’m glad you have them, even if they’re not all that nice to... well, anybody, as far as I can tell. How else could we have gotten this far together? I would have gotten us lost for sure.”

Crowe
“Well, I sort of... relinquished it, willingly. That’s a longer story, I won’t get into that,” Crowe told him, shying slightly at the touch of his muzzle at her ear. She cast him a wry glance, tail lashing a bit in response, but it was all in fun. She was playing at upset, and responded by swatting him across the legs with her little whip-like tail, head high.

“Muninn likes you, but Huginn doesn’t like anyone. You especially, though,” she teased, sparing a chuckle to that. The big bird huffed and grumbled the whole duration of the trip the last time, she was sure he was doing the exact same now. Muninn attested to the fact with a harsh caw.

“You should consider yourself lucky you came across us. Any other Oakfern would have actually drowned you, in stead of just threatening it.”

Corvus
Corvus gave a sideways leap at being swatted, snorting in surprise. He laughed it off as he sauntered back toward Crowe. So they were going to play, were they? He smirked.

“Well, I’m glad I am delightfully dry. Drowning sounds rather unpleasant.” he spoke as he walked right over her, careful not to actually touch her with his massive cloven hooves, merely just to loom over her. She fit surprising well underneath his belly. It might have seemed forward to pull such a move during the rut, but this was merely springtime playfulness.

“From what I gathered, you’re not just any other Oakfern - not that I’ve met many.” he looked down at her before bounding off to resume his sedate pace at her side.

Crowe
Despite not being able to see, Crowe was certainly able to feel just fine, and the sensation of being stood over was an unpleasant one. She knew he was playing, and that he wouldn’t actually hurt her, even though it was a surprising realization. She trusted him. That one was even more surprising. She pulled a face in reaction to being pretty much walked on top of, tempted to try and nip at the nearest limb. With great effort, she let it be, shrinking a bit to allow him to back off without issue. Her size was always under great scrutiny, even among her own people.

“Would you like me to prove you wrong? I’m liable to have a sudden change of mood,” the little gray doe teased once again, tail flicking.

Her ears twitched as Huginn gave a sharp shriek of warning ahead. Muninn did not need to translate this one. Crowe looked up, ears swiveling in time to catch a telltale boom of thunder. While they had been goofing around, the sky had darkened as stormclouds swept in from the east.

Her ears pinned slightly as the air pressure changed, and the scent of rain grew strong on the wind. “We ought to find someplace to wait this out... they say it will be bad.”

Darn volatile spring weather~

Corvus
The black stag mimed a confident smile as he trotted in place, feeling like a colt. “I’d like to see you try, since I don’t see any water around.” -- it was about then that Huginn called out to contradict him, and Corvus surveyed the sky with a sudden, disappointed frown.

He rubbernecked around at the vegetation on either side of the trail the had been cutting, and then turned to Crowe for guidance. “Any ideas? Caves? Tree trunks?” he squinted up at the crows, “Think they’d help?” he answered his own question by shaking his head.

“Oakfern’s supposed to have a pretty complex tunnel system, yes? Maybe there’s an entrance nearby? One that is Corvus-sized, hopefully.”

Crowe
None that she was familiar with. Huginn came screeching back, making it abundantly clear that the two Fawnlings were on their own. His brother was hot on his heels, both birds seeking shelter from the impending downpour.

Crowe spared them a scowl and a curse under her breath as they departed. They were no help. Sometimes she wondered why she let them stick around. “There ought to be something close. Corvus-sized? We might be pushing it...” still teasing to keep the mood, fairly light, she turned off the path, seeking the scent of water. It didn’t matter what cave you entered in Oakfern, it was cut through with running water. Finding a stream was their best bet at this point...
It ended up taking them longer than Crowe had hoped, but she was quite delighted when she, quite literally, stumbled into something. By now, the rain was threatening, drips and drops slowly making their way across the landscape. Thunder cracked in the background, making it clear that the mild drizzle was a temporary luxury.

“Here!” The gray doe barked to her companion, picking her way down the sharp decline, her hooves sliding on the stones. Here, she was sure... she could smell the water in the cave, the familiar scent of damp earth and mineral deposits. Once she was sure the big stag was following her the blessedly wide entrance, she trooped onward. The sound of rushing and dripping water grew louder just as the sky opened up and the downpour began above...

Corvus
Corvus plodded along beside Crowe as she searched, swivelling his head to a fro in attempt to help, and eternally grateful he’d dropped his wide, thick antlers a few weeks prior, because they’d be like to get tangled in the hanging vines and low-hanging branches. After seeing nothing but more thick greenery, he ducked down and followed after his guide as best he could.

Hearing her call out to him was a godsend, for sure, and the rain began in earnest just as he was slipping and sliding down the steep incline, churning the rich earth into a thick viscous mud beneath his hooves. Ick.

He galloped the last few steps into the cave, careful not to beam himself in the skull with anything. He’d be lousy company if he were unconscious. The black stag paused to watch the violent downpour outside the cave with a surprisingly chipper grin, given their slightly damp status; “Sometimes I wish I were half Windborne instead of Blackwood; then maybe I could avoid situations like these.”

He turned back towards his companion, frowned thoughtfully, and amended his previous statement, “Actually, I like this just fine.”

Crowe
Grateful for the dry place to stay, but ever-wary, Crowe ignored her companion for a moment, listening carefully. The place smelled stale enough- no recent scents other than bats... she relaxed slowly, muscles unflexing one by one. No chance of another Oakfern, or anything more unsavory, giving them a nasty surprise.

With a satisfied huff, she turned toward him, amused at his words. As the darkness settled around them, the light of her paint glowed brightly. Skeletal and frightening if you didn’t know the tiny doe who wore it. She turned from him, picking her way across the stones with a haughty flick of her tail.

“Watch your step,” she warned, an unseen smirk playing across her delicate muzzle. She was in her element, but he would be lost in the dark. She would be all that guided him. With no one to tend them, the bioluminescent mushrooms and mosses did not grow this close to the daylight. They would only reside deeper in the caves. She would be his only light in this place.

Corvus
Corvus took his time in watching her walk away from him, that familiar flutter of happiness blossoming warmly in his chest. He’d come to enjoy it, really. Even the glow of her spectral body paint wasn’t enough to stop him from admiring her.

When the darkness swallowed her up, he hastened to follow her, lest he lose the tiny doe. The fact that she’d be his only way in (or out, when the time came) of the pitch black cave did not seem to bother him. In the short time they’d spent together, he’d grown to trust her. After all, if she had wanted to drown him, she’d had ample opportunity before this to do so.

Darkness, as thick and cloying as this, was a new experience to Corvus. Even on the darkest of nights, there was always enough light to see by. But this... this pressed against him, choking him with nothingness. At once, it made him feel both strangled and forsaken. It was not an overall pleasant thing. He fought the urge to panic and focused on Crowe’s footfalls ahead of him.

“This... uh. I supposed this is what you deal with, all the time.”

Being blind was tougher than he’d imagine. But at least he could still hear and smell the doe, and that brought a great deal of comfort.

Crowe
“You see it as stifling, as oppressive. I see it as home.” Crowe agreed gently, leading him just around the bend before she stopped. Thankfully the cave wasn’t too terribly neglected. There was some soft moss a little ways in, and she stopped to let him catch up. She could still remember being able to see, although she only retained a few images of that world... mostly she’d forgotten. She couldn’t remember what the outside of her cave looked like, or the forest that lay beyond. She remembered faces. The herd that had shunned her, her skeletal mother, Gealach...

And yet, as comfortable as she had become with not being able to see, she suddenly ached for vision once again. She didn’t need it for the rest of her life, a moment would do... just so she could look at him and truly know who this stag was. She had an image of him in her head, but she wouldn’t ever be able to know for sure what he looked like.

She shook off the feeling, gingerly laying down on the soft, springy moss, peering up at where she heard his voice coming from. “Might as well get comfortable, it doesn’t sound like it will be letting up anytime soon.”

Corvus
The big black stag was careful as he walked toward Crowe, gingerly setting his feet down on the spongy moss, mindful of her voice, so he wouldn’t crush her.

He stood placidly, unsure of himself in the dark, and not quite trusting his other senses to guide him accurately. He cleared his throat awkwardly and then took a chance: he moved to where he’d last heard his companion’s voice, paused as soon as he felt her body heat reflecting off his legs, and then artfully folded himself around her, effectively tucking her tiny body against his barrel.

“I’m fine with that.” he stated simply, with the barest hints of possession fringing his warm voice.

It was easy to be brave in the dark, he decided as he relaxed against her.

Crowe
Forever amused by how ginger he was around her, Crowe held still and didn’t budge an inch. She let him settle, and thrilled at the fact that his great self pretty much totally encompassed her much smaller one. A satisfied sigh escaped her, lean body relaxing at the warmth to her side. She settled into him, ears twitching back to listen to his breathing.

This was the closest she had been to another Fawnling since her mother passed away... this was the most trust she’d ever freely given out. Whatever this was, this nameless thing between them, she didn’t want to change it. While not getting too comfortable with the idea of having him around, she fully intended to enjoy whatever time there was. After all, he had to move constantly, and she would be leaving him at the border of the sea...

So, what would be, would be. She wasn’t going to kick and scream about things she couldn’t change. For now, she could just... savor.

She didn’t feel guilty about leaning into him, or about how her head dropped to rub gently along the thick, corded muscle of his neck and shoulder. She didn’t feel guilty about how much she loved the fact that he was so close, that she could feel the strong throb of his heart, the even rhythm of his breathing. Why would she? What was there to lose...

Corvus
He gave a contented hum as her body melted perfectly against his, the thrum of his heart a rapid, thrilled beat in the darkness. There was nowhere in all of the Western Isles that he wanted to be more than right here at this very moment.

While he’d never exactly been rough with the does of his past, he hadn’t really been concerned about their comfort, either. How many excited, naïve females had he charmed over the years? How many had he used solely for his own benefit? How many had he wounded emotionally with his inevitable departure, either on purpose or inadvertently? With Crowe, it was a different story. Above all else, he didn’t want to use her, or hurt her. Not now. His plans of Windborne evaporated, at least for the moment. All that mattered right here and now was the soft press of the small doe against him, and the spine-tingling sensation of her tender muzzle on his body.

He gently nibbled along the curve of her throat, delighted in the closeness he had unknowing longed for since their first meeting in autumn.

Crowe
She felt a thrill of electricity when he returned her touch, heart hammering wildly in response. None of this made any sense, but it all felt so right. Gealach had to have been mistaken. This couldn’t be wrong... none of this could be wrong, not when it felt so good. All she wanted was to get closer, to forget everything else in the world and stay here.

She lifted her head to press her face along his jaw, breathing in deep. If she had any doubt about his size, it was all tossed out the window now. He was enormous, now that she could feel his vast, muscular side pressed against her, and yet he was so gentle it almost seemed surreal. She couldn’t get enough of his attention, trying to weasel deeper into the curve of his body.

Gealach was the last thought on her mind.

The consequences of her actions seemed so very far away. She felt untouchable here, with him. They were the only two in the world right at that moment. All that mattered was right now, how warm he was, and how good he smelled...

Corvus
The afternoon drifted by in a hazy wonderland, as did the following night. The rain had stopped some hours ago, not that it had mattered. Corvus’ world encompassed only Crowe, and there were no thoughts to spare on such trivial things like time or weather.

As much as he would have liked to stay in the cave, enveloped by blackness and the Oakfern doe, the world deemed it necessary to keep on going. The big stag sighed in disappointment.

“I suppose we should keep going, huh? I think the rain has let up.” he murmured in a remorseful tone, pressing his nose gingerly against Crowe’s cheek. She was so small, and felt so delicate. He was afraid that if he wasn’t careful with her, she and this divine moment would break beneath his touch.

Conscientious as always, he untangled himself from her, and felt instantly more cold and empty for it. He flashed a smile - not that it could be seen in the pervasive blackness, but it translated to his voice, “Coming, dove?” he asked in jest, his tail swaying behind him in amusement.

Crowe
She would have been content to stay there until time ended... she had never felt such... utter comfort, such complete acceptance before. No one in Oakfern might have wanted to claim her, to call her family, or daughter, or mate, but not one of them mattered now. She had him, and that was all she needed. She could take a moment of her life to be selfish, she reasoned. It was only one moment, all she wanted was just a moment to think only of herself.

She started a bit when he spoke. They had sat in silence for so long that his voice had become a foreign thing. Her ears twitched back, but she didn’t protest. “So it has,” she murmured, waiting for him to rise and move aside before she followed. She took a moment to stretch her legs, hurrying to catch up afterwards at his beckoning.

It was bittersweet.

That moment had been so dear, and yet so fleeting. She hated to leave this place behind. She would have liked nothing more than to stay. Now she had to resume the journey... to take him to the shore of Windborne... and leave him there.

Corvus
Corvus followed close behind Crowe as they made their way out of the deep cave, and emerged blinking into the sunlight. After so many hours deprived of his sight, the world seemed too bright, too vivid. He squinted and waited at the mouth of the cavern for his eyes to adjust.

The spring rain had churned much of the ground into mud, but the earth was quickly, greedily swallowing it up for fodder in order to produce the array of flowers and grasses that the season was known for. In a week or less, this very spot may well be covered in a colorful parade of blossoms. He was instantly saddened by the fact that he would miss it, but appointments in Windborne had to be kept - although none had been important as the one that had brought him to Oakfern.

Perhaps he’d cut his tour of the wind-whipped north short, and spend the latter half of summer in the company of the little grey doe. And autumn wouldn’t be far behind... Corvus watched Crowe wistfully, wishing now that he were smaller, somehow, or she larger. He didn’t know much about biology, but he was certain that conceiving a fawn between them would be an impossible feat - though the act itself wasn’t, he mused thoughtfully, a blush hidden beneath his black pelt.

He rattled his head and stepped up beside Crowe, nipping at her back in passing. “I don’t suppose your crow friends will be able to find us?” he asked, scanning the skies.

Crowe
The little grey doe skittered sideways a bit, giving him a playful snort and another whip of her tail across his legs in reprimand for the little nip. She glanced upward thoughtfully, ears swivelling to listen. Normally the birds did not go far, she couldn’t imagine that they’d have totally abandoned her now.

“They’re around, they’ll be joining us shortly. As long as we get back onto the main path I’m sure they’ll find us without issue.” She admitted, winding her way through his front legs like a cat, cutting across his path to guide back toward where they’d come from. The rain had shut out all scents, but her memory of the sounds and the sensations of the past usually served to help her find her way.

Corvus
Picking his way carefully over and beneath the brush, Corvus pondered as he followed the doe. Some questions that had been plaguing him had been answered in the best of ways, but now new questions were broiling inside. How were they going to make this work? It’s not as if he could stay - her place in the world was built for tiny, tiny Oakies. Despite the fact that she lived alone, he doubted that the herd would take kindly to a tall, dark stranger spending too much time in their land. But he was not willing to take her with him, either, as the world was far too dangerous, and losing her was not an option.

He furrowed his brow and watched her as she led the way. He’d think hard about it over the summer, and return to her in the autumn with an answer. Somehow, they’d make it work. It would take patience, and hard work, but she was worth every ounce.

Crowe
Her mind was on other matters... The consequences of everything she'd done were ever-present, looming there. She didn't know what would happen, but she hoped it wouldn't be anything unreasonable. Berach would be upset at her for leaving without a warning, but she could handle his moods. It was Gealach whose mood she truly feared... He was benevolent, though... Surely He would not punish her for following her heart?

She got the pair of them through the dense brush and onto the path once more, and they only had to walk on a little ways before the grating voices of the crows called out above.

"There, see? No need to worry. As... Flaky as our alliance may seem, they have yet to truly abandon me." Crowe cast him a sly glance over her slender shoulder at him. She slowed her pace and fell into step beside him, letting the birds resume their positions from yesterday.

She tried not to think of leaving him in Windborne and coming home alone... For now, she would just hold tightly to the memory of last night and focus on the time they had left.