He heard the shot. He stood at attention; his head swiveled around to look behind him with his ears pricked. For a moment he disregarded it and faced forward and began walking again. He recalled a conversation they had the other night.
"I'm taking him to the meadow tomorrow."
He stopped. He wheeled on his back legs to face the direction where the shot was heard. Had she still gone? Maybe she hadn't. She was probably still safe in the thicket. He wouldn't know unless he went to look.
He hesitated, just for the slightest moment. But he had to be sure. He couldn't have one of his scouts coming with such news if…..better just to find out himself. He lunged into a panic-stricken sprint, his neck low to avoid branches tangling in his massive rack. With each pant it was an almost audible "no". She was still safe. She hadn't been able to go to the meadow. She had instead made a play date with Faline's mother. With Thumper's mother. With anyone's mother.
He skidded to a halt before the clearing, camouflaged against the dark trees. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he searched the clearing frantically. He took a tentative step, sniffed for man. There was a faint stench of the gun and he distant heard alien voices. There was no scent of a dog and he silently thanked his Maker. With the humans still so far away he chanced a slight sound; he called her name. He didn't dare walk into the middle of the open space, but he paced along the edge of the wood, softly calling to her, always hoping she wouldn't answer.
A weak call stopped him. His ears pricked and his eyes roaming the ground. Another sound; it was behind him, not in the meadow. He swiveled around and began walking slowly through the trees. With the wind creating a slight breeze from behind him trying to catch a scent was useless.
Something stirred in the brush just ahead. With silent steps he approached the nearly motionless form. He couldn't breathe. His limbs refused to move. She was splayed on the ground, her back legs at unnatural angles while her front legs were curled beneath her stomach where blood flowed at an alarming rate. One of her ears flicked to him. Her sides rose as she began panting, thinking that he was man, that he was here to finish her. He couldn't even remember moving when he was suddenly by her, kneeling behind her, rubbing his head against hers, trying to ease the pain.
"Prince?" she whispered.
His eyes closed, "I'm here."
The immense relief in her voice panged him, "I'm so glad. You'll take care of Bambi won't you? He does look up to you, you know."
"Of course, don't fret."
"Prince….I'm sorry," she was gasping, the pain becoming too great for her delicate body to withstand, "I shouldn't have come."
His head was rested slightly on hers; protecting her from the humans whose voices were getting louder, "This is not your fault. I would never blame you for this. Man, they are the problem."
"At least….Bambi is….safe."
He raised his head, listening to the oncoming humans. She didn't appreciate the void; with a painful effort she lifted her head and leaned into him, nestling in his neck right beneath his chin. Her slight frame trembled from exertion and the cold as the snow greedily stole her heat. He pressed tighter against her, an overwhelming helplessness taking hold of him. He couldn't do anything.
The voices drew closer and this time she heard them.
"You have to go," she whispered.
He shook his head, "I'm not leaving you."
He could almost feel her smile; she always smiled at him when she was being patient, never a raised voice or even a slight reprimand. Somehow he didn't think that she knew that was how she managed to persuade. Her lack of wanting to force a choice and instead trying to reason was what he loved about her.
"What about our son?" she asked gently.
She felt his throat vibrate as he groaned in agony, he would refuse to leave him as well; they both knew. She was the lost one. Bambi still had a chance. Even with that realization, it didn't help with the complete and utter misery of separating himself from her permanently.
"It's alright, it will be alright," she assured him, "….don't be too hard on him. He tries hard." A man shouted that he had found the blood trail a short ways away.
"Please, Prince, you have to go now," she pleaded. She began lowering her head that suddenly felt like a dead weight. He caught her under her chin before she hit the ground with his muzzle and tenderly set her down. She began panting, her nose dripping blood. She looked at him with large, sad eyes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, she closed her eyes, a tear leaking out.
The Great Prince nuzzled her and rubbed her cheek, "You have nothing to apologize for. I love you. Remember."
Her head moved slightly in a nod, "Always." He went to his feet and hurried to the cover of the forest before turning back.
A few moments later two men gathered around the doe.
"She must have been thrashing around, look at all them marks in the snow," one remarked.
"Who cares, just get it over with," his companion answered. The first pulled out a hunting knife and started towards the deer. Her eyes widened and she struggled feebly…..The Great Prince wheeled and fled.
He had to find Bambi, he knew, but he had to think first. No, not think, thinking would only be torment; he would just run. Running brought pain for lungs, legs, heart, but not from heartache, just labor. Thoughts were not possible when your attention was on physical affliction. So he ran. For how long, he didn't know, but not long enough to get out of unfamiliar territory. He saw he was close to the over look where he had stood to survey the forest when it was convenient. His breath was sharp in his chest, like a knife-he closed his eyes. Not like a knife. Like a talon. Not like a knife at all.
He opened his eyes and recalled his promise; he would take care of his son. With a new purpose, he turned and began walking to the thicket, the logical place Bambi would have run for. During his journey there he turned his raw emotions inward, letting nothing show on the outside. His exterior would be an immovable stone; a stoic air like a prince should have.
When he reached his destination it was snowing. Bambi saw him come out of the flurries like a foreboding shadow. He gasped and backed away a couple of steps. The Prince blew a steam of cold from his muzzle, keeping his façade in place.
"Your mother can't be with you anymore," he said dispassionately. Bambi withered, his fears suddenly becoming a cruel reality.
"Come, my son."