A vast grey sky, with patches of sunlight shining through the clouds and upon the meadow. The fresh smell of dew and wet grass still lingered in the air, each and every leaf still dripping from the rain that fell the night before. Simply put, it was another quiet morning in the forest.
It's barely been a full day since Bruno was scolded for wandering off on his own; he and Nettla hadn't been in the meadow on the previous day, but news always spread fast in the forest thanks to the songbirds.
Man came and went; no dogs and no traps; only a few quails and two rabbits were taken; no deer killed on that day. So when it was safe to go to the meadow again, it wasn't uncommon for onlookers to start whispering, because both the fawn and old doe rarely went to that open field in the first place, only when it was time to eat.
"Hey, it's Old Nettla over there!" "Really? I haven't seen her in a while." "Looks like she's taken in another orphan. Can you believe it?"
Nettla rolled her eyes and shook her head in utter annoyance at the comments other younger deer made about her, as if she hadn't heard them over and over across the years. It took but a single glare at them to make them quit their gossip.
"Tsc, younglings. Did your parents ever teach you how to hold your tongues, let alone respect your elders?" As soon as she spoke, they turned away and left. With a triumphant "hmph", the doe turned her attention back to her meal, and back to Bruno in the process, who was busy eating many clover blossoms he found in a nearby pond. Needless to say, the fawn was... Unsurprisingly baffled by her attitude, despite being used to it.
"Pay no heed to them, there's little more than wind inside their skulls." She watched as the fawn munched on the petals while listening to her. "And don't go eating only blossoms, Bruno. Or else you'll never grow antlers when you're older."
Upon hearing this, he quickly started eating both flowers and grass to make up for it. The old doe could only give a small, amused smile at the fawn, not sure whether he was just that obedient, or too proud to not be seen as an "antlerless" buck. It mattered not, in the end. Suddenly, he hastily spat it all out.
"cough cough" Nettla's ears perked. By the way it seemed, trying to eat too much in such short time made him unable to gulp down his food, and he coughed as a result.
"Be careful. Don't eat everything at once." He nodded, taking a single small blossom on his mouth and munching on it, and then he asked:
"... Aunt Nettla?"
"Hm?"
"Why can't we stay longer in the meadow?"
"Because this place isn't safe to stay, whether Man is here or not. The best way to live, is to not take your chances so carelessly." She said without looking away from the grass she was eating.
"I don't quite get it." His head tilted slightly.
"When you're of age, you will understand."
"Are there deer who lived a really long time?" Nettla took a longer while to answer that question, but eventually found an answer.
"Not as much nowadays, but yes. Old does are far more common than old bucks, however — just look at me! So a stag who's lived longer than others, like say... a Great Prince, is one to be respected by all."
"A Great Prince... " Before he knew it, a little smile made its way to his face as he gazed to the faraway deer in the meadow.
Like the tales of Man, Bruno's overheard many things about the Great Princes, except instead of a lingering fear that came after hearing the stories, it was pure admiration.
Stags who stood proud and strong, with the largest antlers any buck could have, and always protecting the forest from all danger no matter what. As of now, he's never seen a Great Prince before yet was all too eager to know more about them. It helped that Old Nettla had told him once or twice about their duties and ways of living in the woods. Oh, to live as a respected Prince and protect everyone must be a wonderful life to strive for...
But of course, in spite of what he felt, becoming a Great Prince was no more than a far-off dream of his. What were the chances a little orphaned fawn such as himself be able to become the next protector of the forest? And besides, Bruno wouldn't want to leave Nettla all alone, not when she was growing older as time passed. He decided not to dwell on such thoughts any longer and went back to eating, unaware of the forlorn glance his caretaker was giving him.
Not far from there, both he and the old doe heard a rather loud chattering of fawns, rabbits and some squirrels gathering near an old fallen log. Nettla huffed and gave quite the glare at the commotion. As little as he knew about Nettla, one thing he did know was her utter dislike for loud chatting.
"Too loud, what's going on anyway?" Bruno turned his head to where she was looking — he too seemed puzzled. The doe then spared a glance to the fawn. "... Do you want to join them?"
The question made him quickly look back at her, wide-eyed and ears lowered, completely thrown off. What was she asking of him? What kind of question is that? Nettla merely sighed and motioned her head towards where the group was.
"Now then, you don't have to stay beside me all the time. As long as you're within my sight, you can join other fawns. Believe me, it'll be good for you." As she spoke, though her serious gaze didn't change her voice didn't seem nearly annoyed or bothered by her decision, so maybe it was a sign of... Encouragement?
Reluctantly, Bruno nodded and went off to meet the others, trying not to look back as he walked and assuming a more "outward" stance, preparing himself should they notice him. It took less than a moment for Nettla's stern look to turn into a mournful one, silently talking to herself.
"Hopefully you'll be able to finally befriend someone. No child deserves to go through what you went..."
Thus, there they were: an old doe watching a Young Prince walk towards a group on his own — one afraid to look away, the other afraid to look back.
