You Save Me - Ryvarda

You Save Me
A tale of Alder, Meadowsweet, and Dandelion


The sun was already peeking cheerfully through the leaves above him when Alder woke. Stiffly and slowly, the young buck eased himself to his feet, stretching out his long sinuous body, and shook the film of dew off his coat. Almost mechanically he began to shuffle over to where he knew there was a small stream and stopped by the bank, dipping his muzzle into it. The coolness of the liquid gave him new energy, putting paid to the last of his morning drowsiness, and he threw his head up, spattering droplets over his back, before plunging his whole face into the water.

They felt good, moments like these. They were small and rather far between, but when one happened he could almost remember to feel alive again.

And yet it was always moments like these that brought on fresh pangs, as the forgotten emotion reminded him why he had not felt properly lighthearted in so long. The loss of his dam was still a gaping wound, and he didn't feel as if he'd ever be able to forget it; it was like a phantom limb, the way it felt, something that should have been there but wasn't. Almost a year now, it had been. The leaves were already starting to gild, which would mean his third Spring had come around, and when winter fell - that would be the dread anniversary. He still missed her terribly.

Slowly he strolled along the bank, his head lowered, gazing at his front claws moving duly along the ground. A walk wouldn't hurt. Perhaps he might even catch some fish for himself, if he felt like it...

A sudden loud splash, immediately following this thought, made him raise his head, searching for the source of it. That definitely wasn't a fish leaping, it was something much bigger - suppose some larger fish had managed to trap itself in this relatively shallow stream? It would make a change from all the minnows that normally constituted his fish diet.

To his surprise, he saw that it was another Hyksi. He had not seen any Hyksis save his mother ever since they had left the herd, and the sight was enough to stir him into feeling some sort of curiosity. She was a dal, he could tell, since she had no antlers, and she was a rather unusual colour, too - all pale with dark spots. He'd never seen the like of that coat before; he could hardly remember what the dals in the herd had looked like, and any other strangers that his mother and he had hence encountered had been too far away to be any sort of significance.

But here now was this dal, across from the stream from him, her slender neck bent over the clear rushing water as she peered intently into its depths. It was the nearest Alder had ever been to any of his kind for a long time, and he just stood silently on the bank, watching her.

Utterly absorbed in her task, Meadowsweet remained ignorant of his presence. She let out a frustrated sigh, her dark nostrils fluttering, a cascade of fresh ripples skittering across the surface of the stream like startled birds. With a conscious effort, she forced her dark-tipped ears forward, aimed at the water around her submerged forelegs. As the stream resumed it's trickling, bubbling path, she remained painfully still. She stared at the water's surface, dark-rimmed eyes searching for any flicker of motion beneath. But for the impatient twitches of her tail, she might have been a statue.

The sound of the forest resumed around them - the curious young buck and the oblivious adolescent dal - birds twittering from the bushes and treetops, a few squirrels arguing stridently for territory or food. A dragonfly hovered in and landed on the dark tip of Meadowsweet's snowy ear, and she fought to keep her ear from flicking to dislodge it. The base of her ear shuddered slightly as the insect's tickling feet sought new purchase, but she managed to still it.

A shadow moved beneath the surface, and she darted forward, her slim head completely submerged as she attacked. With a great heave, she pulled her head back, a gleaming trout grasped between her jaws. Her neck bowed and strained at the size of the fish, and she attempted an awkward hop backward to the shore. Mid-motion, her eye landed on the still form of Alder and she froze. Alder, quickly realizing that she was meeting his gaze, started back.

The fish took the offered opportunity and struggled, flapping his slimy, webbed tail repeatedly into Meadowsweet's eye.

Startled, she jerked backward and her twisted hind leg gave way. Her backside landed solidly on the muddy stream bottom, and her jaws loosened just enough for the fish to fight free. One final rude tail-slap and he slipped into the water, disappearing almost instantly, leaving the young dal splay-legged and without a breakfast, alone with a strange young buck.

As she fell, Alder could see now that there was something wrong with her hind leg - it hung awkwardly behind her and was much too small. Had she hurt herself somehow? Had some evil curse been cast upon her?

She evidently wasn't much of a fisher, and with the grass becoming dry and sparse as autumn approached, this would be the time when Hyksis must turn from grazing to fallen fruits and whatever they could catch for sustenance. Everyone - with another pang, he heard Blackthorn's voice - everyone would be trying to find food.

And now this pale stranger had lost her meal. He felt somewhat responsible.

Well, he had cost her the fish... it seemed only fair that he should repay her that loss. But there was some panic rising in him now that the dal was aware of his presence. He had known no other Hyksis save his dam and now here was another, a stranger - a dal, granted, but a stranger nonetheless. Part of him wanted to bolt back the way he had come, but another part of him urged him to go, cross the stream, help her. As such he stood uncertainly where he was, shifting his forefeet, his ears pinned back.

For a moment, Meadowsweet simply stared at the young buck. His antlers, while still not fully grown, were beginning to show signs of maturity. He was obviously older than Dandelion, but perhaps only by a single Spring. His coat was a rich auburn, with a dark chocolate mask and matching socks. The same lush brown trailed in a thick line down his spine and painted a design on his flank, like two elongated half-moons chasing a spot. A shock of white ruff trailed across his chest, from muzzle to his tail, vivid against the intense earthy tones of his coat.

She realized she was staring and turned away, ears warming with embarrassment. She was sitting in the middle of a creek, inspecting a strange buck like some brainless rabbit. Dandelion would be furious. At the thought, she pinned her ears back doubtfully. She didn't know anything about this buck. What if he was like Loosestrife? She gave an awkward heave with her good hind leg, hopping to the opposite shore and a few feet beyond to give a running start in case he gave chase. Water trailed off her in tickling rivulets. She dropped her neck and gave her coat a thorough shake, flicking her tail for good measure.

That done, she gazed uncertainly back at the young buck. He didn't act like Loosestrife. He hadn't chased her, or made any aggressive movements toward her. As a matter of fact, he seemed just as confused by her as she was by him. If anything, he almost seemed afraid. She dipped her head and pushed her whiskers forward in a tentative smile, ears gently folded against her neck, as nonthreatening as possible. "Hello?"

She was coming nearer, and Alder fought the impulse to flee. This whole situation was something foreign to him, and he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He had never encountered a stray dal before; most of the Hyksis that he had seen during his roaming days were bucks, and at a distance - he had learnt to regard them and their cruel antlers as objects of danger. A young dal like this... he had no idea of such a creature. Moreover, he had not spoken since Blackthorn's death. There had been no-one to speak to, and what good would speaking have done, anyway? It wouldn't have changed anything.

Yet at the same time, something held him in place. As frightened as he was by the unknown, he was also strangely transfixed, and the curiosity made him forget for a moment the burden of grief which had hung over him for so long.

Still trying to remember how to use his long-forgotten voice, Alder's mouth opened slightly though no sound came out. He took a tentative step forward, and then another, his ears rising from apprehension to bemusement.

Meadowsweet cocked her head to the side, lifting her ears curiously. "Can you not speak?" A sudden thought occurred to her, and she took a hesitant step back. "Or did I do something wrong? I've never met a stranger before. Was there something I missed? If so, I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to be insulting. That is to say, if I was insulting, because maybe I wasn't?"  He was so quiet! Nervously, she glanced down at her claws, ears twitching. "I..maybe I should introduce myself first? My name is Meadowsweet." She glanced up at him, to see if she'd said the right thing. Why was she so nervous? It was only another Hyksi. The skin between her shoulder blades gave a slight tremor as she waited for some sort of response.

Her nervousness was detectable even over the water, and Alder could both see and sense it. Oddly enough, it seemed to quell his own. She seemed as frightened and uncertain of him as he was of her, and it gave him a new boldness. Wading into the stream - he was familiar enough with it to know that it only came up to the tops of his legs - he began to make his way over to her side of the bank. Startled at the motion, Meadowsweet lifted her head and pricked her long ears forward, nostrils flared as she scented him. But he didn't seem to be threatening, or offering any sort of danger, so she simply watched as he approached, stomach fluttering.

Say something, say something. He had to. But what was there to say? All of a sudden a picture memory flickered into life in his mind - an image of his mother leading him through the forest, all hazy and golden, in the summer, telling him there was something she wanted to show him. Eventually they stopped before a tall, straight-trunked tree with round, saw-edged leaves. Its trunk was a deep, rich red-brown.

"You were born beneath this tree, boy. Long ago we named our kyfaws for the plants that they were born nearest to, and long since that tradition has died away. Now we name our kyfaws for the plant whose traits they share. But you, boy - I named you for this tree, in the hour you were born, in the hope that someday you too would grow to be upright, and sheltering, and fine."

As the young buck emerged from the water, his red-brown fur plastered to his sides, he shook himself and looked right at the strange dal. His mouth opened again, and this time the voice was faint and hoarse from disuse, but it was there.

"A...Al...der. M-My name. Al-der."

Meadowsweet was startled to hear his voice. Though it was somewhat rusty, it was as rich and deep as his coat. She smiled, pushing her whiskers forward. "Alder." she repeated. "That's a lovely name."

The tension between them eased, and Alder stood, the hint of a smile on his white muzzle. Talking again felt strangely... well, good. Comforting, almost. It was amazing, really, how long he had not spoken to anybody. He decided to try again.

"Mea...dow...sweet," he said slowly, before repeating it again with more conviction. "Meadowsweet?"

He knew, of course, the plant she had been named for. Blackthorn had taught him all she knew of herb lore - and the old dal's store of knowledge and experience had been vast. They had often come upon it on their walks through meadows and ditches, its tufts of white flowers waving on tall stems, its sweet scent suffusing the air. It soothed stomach discomforts, that he remembered. He realized he had not thought of these things for a long time.

She nodded, then looked away shyly. Now that he was talking, she found she didn't know what to say. To cover her awkwardness, she leaned down and tore off a mouthful of the yellowed grass at her feet, chewing the blades thoughtfully. What should she say? Should she ask him why he was here alone? If he had a herd? She realized suddenly that she had no idea how to go about making new friends and meeting strangers. This was the first young buck she'd ever met, with the exception of her brother. Even though she felt oddly unsettled around him, the feeling wasn't completely unwelcome, nor did she wish for him to go away. It was all very confusing.

Alder cocked his head curiously as the dal turned away from him, and his ears pulled backwards as he felt the return of his earlier apprehension. Had he said - or done - something wrong? All he'd done was try her name out in his newfound voice. It was a fine name for her, he thought, the pale cream of her coat reminiscent of those fragrant blossoms, and the sound of her voice had the same calming, uplifting effect on him as their scent.

He was tense, but he had lost his desire to leave. He had felt so comfortable talking to her. Why had she turned away?

Suddenly he remembered her lost meal, and decided hastily that he would make it up to her on the spot. She was showing no sign of wanting to leave, but he felt the urge to hurry in case she did. Kneeling in the mud by the riverbank, he lowered his head of antlers into the water before him, as far as he could stretch, and scrawled the flowing, gentle curves of a lure set deep into the mud by the riverbank before lowering his nose to exhale a cloud of bubbles over it, which vanished into the design as if by a vacuum. Hunting sets didn't work in a stream like this; the flowing water nullified the fire energy of the set, and for the most part fish wouldn't be touching them anyway. The lure set began to glow a faint rose-colour, and Alder fervently hoped that something would come along before it was washed away.

Meadowsweet lifted her head and watched him curiously as he knelt by the bank. What could he be doing? She swallowed the mouthful of tasteless grass and stepped closer, observing his actions with interest. When he leaned back, she saw the set carved into the mud and gave him a startled look. He knew magic! Her eyes flicked hungrily back to the symbol, visible but blurry beneath the rushing water. She stared at it, tracing the curves and markings with her eyes until she had it memorized.

He was quiet, so she remained silent, though her mind raced. How did he know magic? What was this set for? What did the curves mean? Was that a slash off to the left, or just a stick caught in the mud?

She watched intently to see the results, her gaze moving from the buck to the symbol. During her time in the herd, she had learned pitifully few sets. Her mother had been disinterested with her the moment her twisted leg had been declared unhealable, and the other dals were usually too afraid to spend time teaching sets to someone else's kyfaw.

She shifted until she stood next to him, lowering her head so that she could see more clearly without interfering with his movements, her eager breath blowing softly across his side.

Alder glanced quickly back as he heard her move closer to him. She wasn't going to leave at all, then! On the contrary, she was watching what he was doing with rapt attention. He smiled gently at her, pleased at her apparent interest.

He started in surprise, though, when he returned his gaze to the set. A curious dace had approached and was hovering over the lure set. Its fins undulated to keep itself in place, and its unblinking fish-eyes never left the glowing thing, as if mesmerized. Quick as a flash Alder's head darted out, seizing the fascinated creature from the water, and a quick chomp from his long fangs put a swift end to it.

Leaning towards Meadowsweet, he placed the fish before her.

"F... food," he told her haltingly. "For you."

Astonished, Meadowsweet blinked at the fish for a moment before glancing back up at Alder. A slow smile spread across her face, and her eyes warmed. Dipping her head in gratitude, she spoke, "I...oh, Thank you. Thank you very much!"

She lifted a foreleg and tapped the fish with her claws before glancing back up at him, her eyes shining. All her pent up thoughts released in a flood of questions."Oh, Alder, that was amazing! How did you do that? Well, I know that it was a set, but where did you learn it? Is it just a lure? Will it work on any fish, or just dace? Can it be adapted for other game as well? Oh, this is so much easier than the way I was doing it!" Realizing too late that she was babbling, she felt her ears warm. Hopefully she hadn't frightened him!

Her effusiveness was somewhat overwhelming, but the admiration in her eyes woke in Alder some pride bordering on embarrassment. These were the basic hunting sets that every buck - and even some dals - should know, and yet here she was, praising him to high heaven for it. He rubbed his head on his foreleg, suddenly bashful, and intimidated by all those questions.

She didn't know the sets. The thought was amazing to him; his mother had told him these were things that all kyfaws learned at their mothers' sides...

His ears drooped again, sadly.

"My... my mother," he rasped, turning away, back to the river, glancing back the way he had come. "My mother... she... taught me."

Meadowsweet's ears fell at the sadness in his voice. His mother...she must have stopped running. The grief in his posture tore at her heart, and after a moment's hesitation, she moved forward and pressed her side against his, as she so often did for her brother, offering comfort and companionship. She leaned gently into him, and spoke softly. "She must have been a wonderful dal. I wish I could have met her."

Alder trembled and shrank slightly at her touch, but he didn't move away. Gradually his body relaxed, soothed by her scent and her voice and her nearness, but the aching well in his own heart was full to overflowing, pent up as it had been for all these silent, endless months.

With Meadowsweet's intervention, the dam finally burst. Forgetting to be afraid that he would repel her, Alder turned, pressed his face into her shoulder and began to sob brokenly, all the tears and rage and pain he had held inside him released at last.

If Meadowsweet was surprised at his reaction, she didn't show it. Murmuring gentle nonsense, she lay her neck across his back and encouraged him to cry himself out. Judging by the strength of his reaction, he'd let this build up for a very long time. As she'd done for Dandelion, and as she'd done for countless other kyfaw when she'd been in Loosestrife's herd, she offered as much comfort as she could. The dals had more than once said that she had an air about her that made others feel safe and let down their guard. Whether it was because her twisted leg made her seem helpless or some other quality about her did not matter. She couldn't bear to see someone in pain, and this strange young buck was no exception.

They stayed that way for some time. Once he had started, Alder seemed unable to stop. The grief that had hung over him for so long, coupled with the strange new cocktail of emotions that contact with another being like himself had now awoken in him, were a potent combination, and he wept until there was nothing left in him.

Then, exhausted, he sank back onto his haunches in the mud, breathing heavily, his shoulders and back shuddering with each breath. Releasing all of that had worn him out, and he lowered himself onto his belly. Glancing at Meadowsweet with tiredness and even some relief mingling in his eyes, he mumbled "Thank.. thank you," before he laid his head on the ground before him, intending to rest.

Her shyness at meeting a stranger temporarily conquered by her need to comfort him, she leaned down and lipped softly at the base of his maturing antlers. "You rest. I'll take care of the fish, and then I'll introduce you to--"

"RAAAAAAAHH!" The warning yell reached them only an instant before a smaller Hyksi form burst through the underbrush, aimed directly at the prone form of Alder.

Alder's ears lifted in startlement and his eyes rolled wildly as, jolted out of his haze of weariness by the sudden sharp cry, he jerked his head up sharply to search for the source of the noise. Barrelling towards him was some kind of grey-and-brown striped creature, and snorting in fright, he scrambled to his feet, braced himself and put down his head, ready to deal with whatever this terror might be.

"Dandy, stop!" Meadowsweet shouted, and the blurry form veered and stopped, narrowly missing Alder's waiting antlers. The pale form of the dal hurriedly stepped between the two, and the other Hyksi finally came into focus. A young buck, budding antlers only barely reaching their first fork, angrily pawed the ground with his sharp claws. His slate-gray fur was accented with a caramel-colored ruff and a startling, vivid black pattern of stripes emblazoned across his neck and back. A healed scar marred his empty left eye socket, but despite his obvious youth there was no denying his angry intent.

"You leave here now!" he snorted, head lowered threateningly and fangs bared.

Alder snorted fearfully, his nostrils flaring and his ears folding flat back against his neck. This was all too much. His emotions were already in a confused whirl from the sudden changes that had come upon him that morning, and now that he had got over his initial fright the sense of fatigue was returning once more. Even though that snarling whirlwind of tooth and claw and antler had now resolved itself into a Hyksi obviously much younger and smaller than himself, Alder was in no mood to fight or argue. Turning, he ran jerkily away, aiming for the forest from which he had come. He would make his way back to his clearing and lie down and sleep for a good long time. He was tired of this.

"Oh, Dandy! How could you?" Meadowsweet whispered brokenly, then leaped after Alder.

Dandelion stared in confusion at the retreating form of his sister. "Sweet! Sweet, get back here, where are you going?!" With a frustrated snort, he gave chase, hoping to talk some sense into his fluffheaded sister. What mess has she gotten us into this time? Alone for only half a morning, and already she's found trouble.

Alder kept running: blindly, awkwardly, hardly aware of how his legs were moving and thus propelled himself forward in a frenzied gallop composed half of leaps and half of stumbling. He tripped, once, upon a fallen log, but quickly righted himself in a few paces and kept going.

It was only after he reached his own clearing, marked by his own scent, that he slowed to a stop and stood, head bowed, catching his breath. Wearily he slumped to the ground again, curling his long, supple body into a ball. He just wanted to stop thinking, stop feeling. All it did was wear him out.

"Alder?" a soft voice tentatively called from the edge of his clearing. "It's Meadowsweet. I'm terribly sorry for my brother's behavior. He's overprotective, is all. Please...are you all right?" She stood, neck craned worriedly over a line of autumn bushes.

"Sweet! Are you insane?" Dandelion's harsh voice broke in before Alder could respond. "Have you utterly taken leave of your senses? Darting madly through the forest, with your leg? Are you begging for a Fearaki to find you? What's come over you? You know this isn't safe! I can't protect you if you persist in acting like an addled kyfaw!"


Her brother's dark head joined hers over the bushes. Though their coloring was drastically different, from this angle the sibling similarities became clear. Both looked as though they'd dipped their muzzles in something dark, and where Meadowsweet's ears were ringed with dark fur, her brother's sported an accent of caramel fur. The small dark speckles at the corner of Sweet's eyes were echoed in sharper designs behind her brother's.

But where her dark eyes looked on Alder's form with worry, Dandelion glared at the other buck with open hostility. "Him again?" The young buck snorted and stamped one clawed foot. "This is a waste of time, Sweet."

Alder had lifted his ears slightly at the sound of Meadowsweet's voice, and even though the scornful tones of the adolescent buck now cut in, he raised his head and gazed at her with dull eyes. In the midst of the numbness in his chest, a faint sort of wonder began to stir. She with the gentle voice and the kind eyes, she had followed him. This seemed somehow to be a fact of much importance, for the wonder was such that he struggled to his feet again and swayed haltingly across the clearing towards her, though his ears remained pinned back, wary of the buck that stood beside her.

"You..." he whispered softly, feeling like he had to say something. "You... came. Here."

Ignoring her brother, Meadowsweet took Alder's movement as an invitation to come in the clearing. "Of course I did, I couldn't just walk away!"

"Yes, you could!" Dandelion broke in.

Sweet pinned her ears back momentarily, but did not turn her attention from Alder. Quickly, she limped around the edge of the brush, speaking as she walked to Alder's side. "Are you...are you alone here, Alder?" Her nostrils quivered as she scented the area, but she could detect no signs of other Hyksi.

Alder nodded wordlessly. The thought that she had followed him was still uppermost in his mind, and for some reason, it was a comforting thought. He eyed the young buck warily, the fur along the back of his neck stiffening as he remembered the earlier assault. He was still in no mood for any fighting, but he would not be chased away from his own turf.

Nonetheless, this buck was obviously much younger than he was, and he had the advantage in both size and antler, even if he had never actually fought another buck. Feeling more curious about this stranger now, Alder extended his nose in his direction, keeping his ears and posture relaxed to show that he meant no harm.

Taken aback by Alder's nonthreatening gesture, Dandelion's ears flickered in confusion, alternating between facing forward and flattened defensively against his neck.

Meadowsweet glanced shyly at Alder, her ears folded gently. "Would you...would you like to join us then?"

Alarmed, Dandelion's jaw dropped and he gaped at his sister. "No, he most certainly would not!" In a single graceful movement, he leapt over the bushes separating him from the other two hyski and flicked his nose warningly at Meadowsweet, a shooing motion. "We are leaving, and we are leaving alone." His tail twitched nervously as he shot an uneasy glance back at the larger buck. He didn't like being out in the open, in the clearing that smelled so strongly of this stranger.

"Dandybuck." A single word, but Dandelion's head shot up, ears forward and one foreleg raised in shock as he stared at his normally passive sister. She stared back, the expression in her dark-rimmed eyes unwavering.

After a tense moment, he finally broke eye contact, lowering his head in defeat. Shooting a sour look at the auburn buck, he stepped aside. She had only ever called him that three times in his memory, and each time it had indicated a stubborn decision that no amount of bullying or pleading could move her on. Whatever it was that she saw in this ruddy stranger, she felt it was important. He felt the first stirrings of jealousy, and glared all the more balefully at the other buck. Alder, seeing the malevolence in the other buck's gaze, stepped back.

Meadowsweet turned back to Alder and her eyes softened as she repeated the offer. "Would you like to join us?"

The red buck's ears came forward as the spotted dal spoke. "Join... you?" To follow them, run with them, to have company again? The spectre of Blackthorn still tugged at his heart, but the idea of being able to spend more time with Meadowsweet... "I... well, could I?"

He shot a nervous glance at the young buck - whose name, he realised, he still did not rightly know - but soon returned his gaze, now hopeful, to the young dal had caught and held his attention. If he was to come out of the shadows and run with other Hyksi again, it would have to be with her. She intrigued him.

Meadowsweet smiled, and it was like watching the sun rise, or a flower bloom. She smiled with her whole body, ears forward and tail held high. She leaned her head forward and pressed her cheek against Alder's, inhaling deeply as she scented him, memorizing his smell. He smelled rich and earthy, like the forest after a cleansing rain. Alder closed his eyes, letting her sniff him over, before he returned the gesture. He had never been so close to another of his kind, and though some part of him quailed, resisting this unknown ground, he did not shrink from her.

Her scent was light, and soothing in a way that reminded him of her namesake flowers - and in that instant Alder's mind was made up. Afraid as he was by the prospect of leaving the safety of what he knew and venturing into strange lands with these new companions, somehow he felt it would all be fine, if Meadowsweet was with him. There was, after all, nothing left for him here. His mother was gone and with her his home... and the memories of her and of that time were things that he could always carry with him. Nuzzling his face into Meadowsweet's neck, he let his breath out in a slow sigh.

Dandelion stepped forward as Meadowsweet and Alder completed their introductions. He gave Alder an appraising glance, then shot a doubtful look at Meadowsweet. She nudged him gently with her nose, laughing slightly at his worry. Moving to set her cheek against his, she whispered, low enough that only he could hear. "Trust me, Dandyboy." He let out a long breath, then shook his head, stepping away from his sister and closer to the strange buck. His nose twitched.

"I'm Dandelion. Sweet's the only one calls me Dandy, I catch you even thinking about it and I run you off quicker'n you can get out a snicker." He glared balefully, his scar and empty eye socket lending a deadly seriousness to his words. "I reckon you're thinkin' you're bigger than me, older, and you've more antler. Don't be gettin' any ideas. I'm in charge of this herd, and if you want to argue that, we'd best be discussing it now." The gray buck puffed out his chest and held his head high, watching Alder for a reaction. Even though he had to be at least a Spring younger than the ruddy buck, he had just enough weight and muscle to lend his threats some credence. His frame already held promise of the impressive buck he would become when he fully matured.

Alder, taken aback by the young buck's emphatic speech, just nodded dumbly in acquiescence, dropping his head and ears submissively. This Dandelion was obviously asserting himself as the one in charge, so since he himself had no idea how to be a leader, he would just have to follow. For they were a Herd, he supposed, despite their size. No, this wouldn't be a problem at all for him. Out of nowhere an image of the dread buck, tall, dark and forbidding, formed in his mind. He of the cruel antlers and the empty golden eyes... and Dandelion's stripes? Alder shook his head in puzzlement, wondering where that thought had come from.

Dandelion nodded tightly at the other buck's agreement, then relaxed slightly. He made no move to offer the cheekpress greeting - the thought of putting his throat so close to the other buck's fangs was absurd. But perhaps he wouldn't be too much trouble. For now, at least.

Behind Dandelion, Meadowsweet rolled her eyes. Bucks, she snorted, and leaned down to snatch a few bites of grass while they worked through leadership issues. She was filled with a sense of rightness, as though finding Alder and joining with him had filled some gaping void that she hadn't even realized was empty.

"I..." Alder's voice was hesitant and slow, but held a quiet purpose. "I.. I'm thankful. To you... both of you. Thank you so very much."

His voice was still hoarse, but he was starting to remember how to speak again, and he felt flooded with new, wonderful conviction that he had made the right decision. He already knew that he had wanted to stay with Meadowsweet, this dal who had spoken so kindly to him and whose very presence eased him, but now he looked upon Dandelion with admiration. Surely this young buck was born to lead herds, with his fierce confidence and grit. Alder could learn things from him. He was liking the idea of traveling with them more and more, and the excitement, shining like a beacon amidst the dreary days past, made him tremble slightly.

He would never forget Blackthorn; of that he was more than doubly certain. The thought of her still brought an ache to his chest. But gazing up to see the sun winking at him through the gold-and-green canopy on high, he somehow felt sure that she would be proud of him.



Story (c) Swiftwhippet and Whiskerwing
Alder and Loosestrife (c) Swiftwhippet
Meadowsweet and Dandelion (c) Whiskerwing
Hyksis and the Ryvarda Universe (c) Opalskye