A/N: This idea simply would not leave me alone so I've finally broken down and written most of it. I hope you will give me feedback and I'll have more posted very soon. Also, I haven't used any names so far in the fiction so pay attention!
I was stalking him for a while before he noticed me. I thought maybe I had lost my meal when he suddenly turned toward me but he only made it a few steps before stumbling and beginning to limp. He was injured, obviously lame in his left hind leg, so I continued after him. He was a probably no more than a yearling judging by his spiked antlers. I always admired their antlers, especially here in the late summer when they were full size and shown off proudly.
Soon I wasn't even running, just casually following him as he tried desperately to cut through the underbrush instead of leaping through it. I wanted to keep admiring him, his legs, his wide eyes, and even the subtle red of his coat. He was truly beautiful and it wasn't fair to keep him running in such obvious pain. I charged him, ready for make a clean kill when he fell to the ground as a human. He stood quickly, dressed in odd human clothes and crying out at me. I suppose he hoped to scare me, and it may have worked on another wolf.
I was impressed by his guts and almost hated to reveal why his plan wouldn't work. I stood before him as human; my own clothing better tailored and form fitting. His face sunk when he realized that he had no way out. He fell backwards as tears began to flow down his face. I wouldn't attack since he was a halfling, though this was courtesy I didn't afford to many. I knew I should leave him, I was only causing him distress and I'd seen what this much fear could do to a deer. The halflings of prey are weak of heart and often die of fright but I stepped closer anyway. He would only be a meal for a less kind predator if I left him after all.
When I reached out for him he shut his eyes, perhaps for the better, allowing me to rest my hand against his cheek. His ears flicked back and I almost smiled at their largeness compared to mine. He was flushed from the run and looking at him up close, I could tell he was also weak and possibly feverish. I could feel myself giving in to temptation and quickly scooped him up in my arms before I could stop myself. His eyes remained stubbornly closed as I began walking, keeping him tucked close to my body. He would whimper every now and again but otherwise kept still. His sickness would explain why he had been alone when I found him.
I was careful to watch my surroundings as I made it back to my home. I had dug it out of a hillside on the edge of the woods several summers back and now the hollow would have its first guest. I turned to carry him through the outer door and smiled in pride at the memory of building it. I had spent weeks stealing a heavy beam to serve as a post for the door and tools to put it together. Now it stood strong and sometimes human travelers even mistook my home for one of theirs.
I had to set the deer down to unlock the inner door, this being the actual security of the two. Inside was a hanging lamp, a hearth, and a bed of sorts. It was more of a nest of blankets layered atop one another with pillows for shape, all stolen of course. I lay the redhead in my arms down before stroking the fire back into existence. The smoke drifted up an out of the top of the hill, a beacon of warmth during the winter. Glancing one last time at the deer asleep in my bed, I left for supplies and locked the door behind me.
A bucket of cool water from the river, vegetables, and bandages and rags from the town didn't even take me until sunset to collect and I hurried back to find him still asleep. I was oddly nervous as I pulled a pot over to the tripod above the fire and began a small stew. Nursing a deer back to health would be more than tricky and might even prove impossible.
Once it was beginning to boil I set the remaining water next to the bed and began ringing out a cloth to cool him. I had some medicine but I'd wait till he woke to give it to him. Unfortunately that was sooner than I'd hoped. He came to as I was running the rag across his forehead and sprang back, or tried to at least. He cried out as he tried using his left foot and failed. I backed off quickly, dipping the cloth again and slowly reaching for his ankle.
His breathing was erratic and I tried to avoid eye contact; I didn't need to panic him further. I kept my movements slow as I held the makeshift cold compress against his ankle. I supposed the bandages would have to wait until after the swelling had gone down. He was shaking, tired and terrified but I only wanted to help him. Of course he didn't know that and I vowed to cause him as little stress as possible and free him as soon as his ankle was healed.
I set his foot at the edge of the bed where it would be elevated and slowly moved away to make sure he kept it there. He tried to keep his eyes on me while I worked on the soup for him but finally drifted back to sleep. I woke him when I had a bowl for him and, though he was scared, when I set two pills and the bowl near him and backed away he quickly took them and ate. I replaced the rag on his ankle before backing away and lying down near the fire.
My thoughts of before soon consumed me, flashes of brown eyes and porcelain skin haunting me. There had been another yearling, hurt in the woods and I had taken him home to nurse him, or that had been my excuse. I had taken it too far, acted on impulses I shouldn't possess. His death was inevitable. If I was truly honest with myself I knew I shouldn't have repeated my mistakes with this one.
It was several days before he really looked any better and through that time he stayed in bed, only going outside a few times a day with me. I wished he could fully rest but my presence kept him tense. Sometimes I would catch him crying and he had frequent nightmares. My self-control was tested each time as I held back from comforting him. I constantly reminded myself that waking from nightmares of wolves to see my face would be no comfort at all and there was nothing I could do to quell the fear in his eyes when he cried.
When he slept I allowed myself to creep forward and sit beside him, simply watching. He was so beautiful, the way only deer could be. Every part of him was delicate but strong. His slender build and large eyes made him look so frail but he would be a buck someday, with large antlers and a mate. Halflings always mated for life with other halflings and with his looks he might even find a mate this year. That was how things should go.
I was an outcast, alone and living in a particularly human way because of my odd tastes. How could this deer understand that I wanted to do far more unnatural things to him than eat him? The sooner he was fit to leave the better.