Welcome! Having seen a few pieces of art of Fawnlock and then jumping onto the actual Fawnlock Tumblr (which I highly recommend heading across to! Thanks for the idea for this story, mods), I thought I'd give a Fawnlock story a go. I also read a couple of great recs at Fuck Yeah Johnlock Fanfic, also on Tumblr and a wonderful site!

If you haven't read one before or seen any artwork it may be worth looking up but hopefully there is enough information in the story to make up for it.

My Fawnlock is a bit different to others, for a start he's called Sherlock but apart from goat style legs as others have done (but not all) he looks similar.

Hope you enjoy!

It is going to be a very cold Winter in the forest. Sherlock can read it in the flora and feel it in the wind. Many of the plants are already frostbitten and it is only early in the season which doesn't bode well.

Most of the animals are talking about it incessantly and even though Sherlock likes his solitude it is often beneficial to listen to the gossip around the trees. You never know what you can find out with so many eyes and ears out there at all different heights and with varying strengths and points of view.

But what has taken over from their worry about the upcoming weather are the creatures that seem to be disappearing without a trace from the forest. Tales are being passed around about animals there one minute and then gone the next, never seen again and leaving no trace behind.

Well, no trace to most. Sherlock, however, prides himself on being able to see details that others do not. His brother, Mycroft, is the only other he knows that has this ability. But his elder sibling instead keeps himself busy running the animal hierarchy and territories. He stays around the same area only rarely deviating from his path from where he sleeps to the place that he does his thinking and meets with the other important animals.

Sherlock on the other hand is a far more curious being. To try to satisfy his insatiable need for knowledge he is in his element dashing about, learning, discovering and experimenting all around the forest. He largely keeps to himself but he and Mycroft meet sometimes to discuss the goings-on in Sherlock's life. On one of these occasions Mycroft comments in their language "I understand telling you to stay away from these disappearances would be a waste of time. Instead I request that when you do find something you tell me all you know". The brothers come to an agreement between them. Their relationship is not as strained as it appears from the outside but it is still not ideal.

Amongst his usual activities Sherlock places his focus on investigating these vanishings. He gathers some data which leads him to think that these departures are involuntary. He's spoken as best he can with many of the packs or kin of those who have gone and finds that none had showed any strange symptoms or signs before leaving. There were never any strange tracks left and the footprints of the animal that were left behind just stopped with no signs of a struggle.

Sherlock knows that he needs to be nearby when one of these possible animal-napings occurs so he can search the scene before it is destroyed and all evidence is gone. He has to be missing something!

On one of his longer evening treks through the forest he comes upon the living arrangements of a Man. It is one of the old cottages that is in the Lestrade family who have a rare understanding with those of the Forest. It was not well known the creatures who reside here and humans in general did not take kindly to discovering those such as Mycroft and Sherlock. There is an occasional sharing of information with the Lestrades that is mutually beneficial. Mycroft and Sherlock had met Greg, he'd even taught Sherlock some English although he'd only known him by his surname. He hasn't seen him in at least four seasons and for a moment Sherlock wonders if he is back? But no, he doesn't favour this 'cottage', it must be someone else.

As curious as ever he listens to this side of him above his other instincts, although he doesn't feel as though he will be in danger if he stalks up to have a quick look inside. He is halfway across the yard next to a vegetable patch when suddenly a short man with light hair comes barreling out the door, carrying many bottles that have a sharp burning smell to them.

Sherlock freezes with wide eyes, taking the look of a startled deer. All that moves is a little of his fur in the light, cool breeze. He is watching, poised, ready to escape if necessary. His brain is calling out that he's been unwise to approach like this. The light coming from the widow shines enough just to highlight him but not show him off too much.

The Man seems relaxed and dangerously unaware of his surroundings. He mustn't be used to predators in this area. Sherlock wonders if what had been in those bottles had been like the toadstool he'd once eaten that made all the colours go wild and his surroundings bend and change. His inhibitions had flown away and once he woke up, body aching, he gazed up to see a very angry Mycroft.

Apparently as an afterthought the human casually sweeps his eyes around his yard when suddenly his visitor catches his attention and he comes to a very swift halt and stares. He takes in Sherlock's small antlers and fluffy sideways ears, the patches of fur that are strategically placed around his body. He doesn't get a good look at his goat shaped legs and hooves but he does see the strange dark brown circular markings that litter the bare skin that is on show.

He could have looked more but in a surprising move, instead of running or trying to attack he begins to laugh and laugh which makes no sense. Sherlock stays still and watches as the man puts the bag next to the house which makes a chinking, rattling sound while the human continues to find amusement in the faun's presence. The smell from the bag is on his breath and he is not completely steady on his feet. Next moment he is back in his cottage, door locked.

Heart thudding wildly, Sherlock stays where he is for a moment before heading back through the trees before either of them changes their mind. He knows he should stay away but over the coming weeks he finds himself drawn to the place. The human doesn't see him again but Sherlock discovers quite a bit about his movements. He's always had an interest in the Men, to find out all he can about them, but had been told to avoid them if he valued his life. Lestrade was an exception. Surely watching from a distance would be fine.

Eventually new information on the mystery he is trying to get to the bottom of distracts Sherlock.

One afternoon he is walking around a worn path in the forest, deeply thinking and not fully concentrating on his surroundings. It isn't until he is looking down the barrel of a gun held by the blond Man that he again remembers again Mycroft's words on the importance of staying away from Men.

Feedback is appreciated :)