She found him lying on his back watching the clouds, and seized his hands to drag him to his feet. "Come with me," she said, eyes laughing, "Come hunting with me. Come running with me."
He followed her, of course, though protesting, "I haven't my knife or-" And she laughed at his reluctance, laughed and reached up to tug playfully at his hair. "And do you need it?" She asked, something in her eyes full of warmth and promise. "You are strong."
He could never have said no, not to her, not to the way her eyes danced when they met his and not to the way the touch of her fingers on the underbelly of his wrist made his skin tingle.
He found the buck, their first game, a proud set of antlers rising above his head as he cropped the grass, cloven hooves sinking in the soft grass with the weight of his body. It was a splendid animal, nearly the size of a horse, powerfully muscled, the antlers thick and strong. He caught her before she ran straight into the clearing, and she spun and fell into his chest, sending them both crashing awkwardly to the ground, her laughing, he gasping for air.
Pushing him down as he tried to rise, she straddled him, eyes gleaming with mischief. "You are going to get me that buck," she told him. "I want it. Take it for me."
He nearly laughed a startled laugh, but instead reached up to take her face between his hands and kiss it. She shoved him down again to his back and leapt away. "For me," she reminded him.
He crashed into the beast's neck, arms wrapped powerfully around it, weight sending the buck staggering sideways. It bugled in rage, swinging its head to the side, but he was not within range of the dangerous tines. It tried to run and one hand clawed up the muscular neck to seize one of the antlers, drag the beast's head back, the fingers of his other hand digging into the buck's throat.
It bugled again, body bucking powerfully as his weight dragged its antlered head toward the ground. The free hand swept up under the deer's jaw, the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining to hold-
With the first awful crack the beast seemed to shudder, and with the second it went limp, the struggle leaving its body as, released, the head lolled on a broken neck. Panting, he rose from the carcass, holding the right antler, broken off at the base, sweaty, dirty, bruised.
She walked like a deer, emerging from the masking trees picking her way delicately over the ground, and went to him. "I didn't think you would really do it," she murmured, her eyes a little wide, and he pressed the antlers into her palm and curled her hand around them, eyes into hers.
"I would do anything you asked."
She wrapped her arms around his neck, then, standing on tip-toe, and kissed him, bringing her body to his in the dappled brightness of the sunlight, and whispered, "Then I will not ask."
He made a soft noise and moved to deepen the kiss, to press against her and feel the full length of her body, and she pulled away suddenly, eyes sparkling with laughter.
"No, I think not," she murmured, playful once again; "I think a deer isn't the only thing you must bring down today. If you catch me, then…" She spun in a circle of silver and black silken hair, and he saw that her feet were bare.
Then she was gone. "Irissë!" He cried, in surprise, and had only a silvery laugh in answer.
His blood stirred, heated. He listened to the whisper of the trees, turned, and ran.