Got to fight another fight

 It was a lovely day, picturesque. He could see a sliver of the clouds above from between the trees and where he stood a few rays warmed his back. He still felt a little strange, a little not right to be walking around without his antlers. However, there wasn't much he could do about it. Nor would he allow it to impede his duties here. He was "divine" something that still felt strange and foreign to him. They worshipped him here and he still didn't know how to feel about that. He didn't feel anymore special than the wolves and, to be honest, he envied them. They could walk the forests without worrying that someone would see them as prey... at least here, he would not have to worry about wolves bothering him and Rahma. They were safe and he would do whatever it took to be seen as an asset for more than just being a deer.

 For now, he stood on a rock that overlooked a little stream. He could see a hare amongst the undergrowth, they didn't fear him, they did't know that if they got close enough he'd catch one. Perhaps...

 He wandered closer, stepping down from his perch... coming closer... he pretended to graze but his eyes were on the hare that wandered closer.

 Close still...

 And then...

 His headbutt stunned the creature, his stomp killed it before it could even get up to run. He couldn't eat a hare but the Elkshirians could. He picked it up in his jaws, carrying it away towards the caches where he would deposit it. Hmm... should he do more hunting or patrolling today? He eyed the cache thoughtfully as he thought over his options.

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More deer and ungulates had acquired word of Elkshires haven, and it was always a happy day for Warwick to meet with them and ensure the sacred beings felt safe in their new abode. Though those who could communicate with wolves had a sense of solitude about them and kept a distance from the main herds, preferring to linger closer to the pack and socialise most with the canines. 

He spotted Hawking, the very deer Warwick had detoured his morning routine to see first on his inspections. But something looked off, in his stance, a concentration that veered beyond nature's norm. A fixation that only Warwick could interpret as a predator, though the hare was completely oblivious to the herbivore's mal intentions. 

Plunk

Even at his distance, he could hear the collision of skulls, and what the deer did next took Warwick by complete surprise. 

When Hawking claimed his trophy, the duke moved forth. 'Hawking! Wait up!'. And he took chase from afar. The thick shrub masked his voice, now not as barren as it had been during winter's grasp, where all was heard with an empty echo. 

He was observant of how agile the deer moved, how he had already taken to undulations of newborn growths. They bounced with finesse on long sturdy legs, and Warwick almost struggled to keep up. Arriving at their trove of supplies to find Hawking was adding to the pile. 

'I bore witness to your hunt. You surprise me with your skills Hawking, though forgive me if you find my words indelicate'. How wrong of him to pigeon-hole the deer, or categorize them as plain grazers. It seemed the High Elk had endowed him with supplementary gifts.

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 He hadn’t heard the young wolf behind him and he didn’t until the brown pup came closer. An ear twitched back and then his head partially turned so that the fellow was no longer in his blind spot behind him. What a roundabout way to compliment someone. ”Uh, thanks, man.” He said and then, after one last look at the cache and a final note to try to catch something else later, he would turn around to face the prince.

 Was it because he was royalty that he talked that way? He couldn’t say so. When he’d been unofficial royalty in Event Horizon he hadn’t talked that way… maybe it was cultural differences.

 ”I didn’t find what you said,” What was that word he’d used? ”Indelicate. I’m sure most of the deer around here don’t hunt.” It wasn’t uncommon for him to do what he could back in his previous pack. While hunting other deer or elk was off the table –at that time—catching smaller things was easy enough to do. Especially because they never expected him.

 ”What are you up to?” He asked, curious if the prince was doing rounds of the territory or if they just happened to bump into each other. If it was the former he wouldn’t mind having someone to help to patrol with. It would be a welcome change.

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Another deer could have perhaps taken offence to his words, perceiving them as though they were incapable of hunting like a carnivore. And Hawking understood this, much to Wawricks' delight, as he aimed to start off on the right foot each time he welcomed a new deer or elk into their home. 'They certainly do not!', a laugh came from him, as it truly was a surprise to find a bestowed deer such as he. 'I thank you for gracing us with a meal, with my Mother's young growing so quickly, we will be going through our caches alot quicker than normal'. Yet the litter was not as excessive as the first one he was born into, they still required ample amount during their infancy, to ensure they consumed more than enough for their growing bones.  

'I was actually looking for you, I had not met with you properly and I apologise for my delay', he was as sincere as they came and genuine with his feelings of adoration for the ungulates residing here, and he was usually the first to introduce himself. 'I am also on my way to check on our flocks. You could join me if you like? Unless you have already met them?'. He wondered if they had no desire to ever run with the herds, or if he would be more content keeping a place amongst the wolves, but the duke would still kindly offer this option for him and others alike.

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 "Yeah, figured we could use all paws on deck." He agreed. They could not afford any lackadaisical members and though he didn't take from the caches himself (not even he could stomach an all-meat diet), he still felt the need to supply things. If not only for the pack, then for the little ones... who he actually thought were really cute. A thought expressed only to Celnes thus far. He wondered what Warwick thought of his younger siblings although he didn't feel like it was something he should ask.

 "You don't have to apologize for not seeing me sooner." He frowned a bit. He knew the lengths of the family's religion but he didn't know he felt being worshipped. "I know I'm a deer but I'd like to just be treated as," Not like the highest being in the forest. "A normal creature. You know, how you'd treat a friend or something." He wasn't sure if he could get used to being this lofty thing. He was just himself.

 "I'd like to join you; I was thinking about maybe doing some hunting and patrolling. I haven't met the herds yet though." He wasn't sure if he really cared to meet the herds now. "I'm usually content with watching from afar." Just like the wolves did to ensure that they were still safe. He didn't outright say it, stopped just short, but it was implied that he enjoyed the company of lupines more than his own kind.

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Warwick was always careful enough since his first meeting with Osiris, an elk here, to treat them indifferently, though it could not be helped in the nethers of his mind, a primal thought deceived this, somewhat feeling he was a level higher - it could not be helped as he were predator and they prey. He smiled in accord, 'Of course'.

He read a mild eagerness from Hawking, perhaps more so with the duty than sharing the same thrill as the elk prince did when enjoying the quiet moments of their peaceful herds. 

'I shall show you where they are', and he moved in direction of where he pursued them last. Their lands were aplenty for their needs and required minimal traversing to gain richer fields from them, and so it made Warwicks' route always that much easier when he knew they did not travel far from only the previous day. 'If you are ever at a loose end, I may ask of your assistance with our flock. While they have grown immune to my presence, I would never abuse that trust by getting too close to them. I am unable to inspect them closer for ailments, and they would be more welcoming if you were to walk by them'.

This was the first time he ever asked anything of their resident elk and deer. But Hawking had shown an interest in participating in duties, unlike others, who were happy to keep quiet and just enjoy the provided sanctuary.

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 When the prince spoke again and began moving towards the herds, Hawking would fall into step beside him. He measured his cadence so that he didn't outpace the other wolf with his longer legs. With frequently walking with other walks, he sort of fell into an automatic prowl or stalk, something that he subconsciously did that mirrored his lupine fellows.

 He listened to Warwick while he also kept a careful eye on their surrounds. Talking and conversing while also being on guard. Heh, like a royal guard. He liked the sound of that but wouldn't bring it up. He was sure that the prince could protect himself just fine... although it was an amusing thought and a fun thing to imagine for, despite his want to be an adult, he was still somewhat childlike in some of his thoughts.

 "Yeah, I can do that." Despite where his heart lay, he still had the form of a deer and other deer trusted him... somewhat. He thought of Rahma and how she never let her guard down fully around him and how quickly she'd disappeared into the herd. It was honestly probably for the best. Her body and heart lead her to one place while his pulled in different directions that he fought with every single day. "Although, I'm not sure if all deer completely trust me. I don't exactly have a scent that they like." He could remember a time or two when deer smelled him coming and bolted. Afraid that a wolf was coming after them. Again, probably for the best. "If... If you ever need someone to patrol with you or anything, I'm always down for that too." A bit of an olive branch for friendship. Archon already said he wanted to practice healing... but what about a friend who was more into the nitty-gritty tougher stuff?

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He laughed at their words. Whilst they carried the trait scent of Elkshire wolves, they certainly were not as minacious as a wolf. Warwick's pattern of thought would perhaps only offend the deer if were to vocalise it. The principle of it is that a deer would not impose the same threat as the canines that roam here. But this was his first interaction with Hawking and he did not want to upset the sacred being.

'Alright', he started, pensively, 'If this is a concern for them, then I shall not ask this of you. A number of Elk here now carry offspring and I intend to check the vulnerable more often. So another eye on our borders would not go amiss. If this pleases you, then I would be grateful for the aid'. With mothers' newborns, their safety was paramount and it was imperative the intrusion of strays was kept to a minimum.

He kept them on a path that lead to the growing herd. 

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 He flicked an ear, feeling pleased that he didn’t have to go amongst them for his own sanity as well as theirs… still. ”I can still do a check every once in a while with them. That shouldn’t upset them too badly.” Nor should it upset himself if he did so fleetingly. Besides, it might let him get close to Rahma to make sure she was adjusting well. She should be happy with the other deer and elk, unlike himself.

 ”Perfect.” Then that was settled, another person to help him watch the borders. Or perhaps, vice versa.

 He kept pace with the young prince, eyeing this and that as they headed towards the herd. He was quiet but observant, keeping watch to make sure that things didn’t go awry on their duties… when something else popped into his mind. ”Do you… mind helping me spar? Sometimes?” He’d not really gotten to do so in a while and he needed to keep his skills up, now more than ever that he had a new pack as well as having lost his antlers. He needed to know how to defend himself and others without depending on them.

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The mild reluctance did not go unnoticed by him. Warwick merely frowned but smiled, puzzled by the deer's unnatural incline to be without a herd but also unwilling to really go near them. It was a proposal he thought Hawking would have jumped at the chance to, so he remained mute so as to not upset his new friend with such assumptions.

The duke took their pace at a slower rate, his nostrils filling with that all familiar scent the herd carried. They were close.

Hawkings' question really took him off guard. Wondering if this deer was at all normal. But he would not question the High Elks' methods and plans for them. 'Sure. Have you ever sparred with a wolf before?'.

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 Following the prince’s lead, Hawking would slow as well. His nostrils flared, taking in the scent of the nearby herd. Their destination was nigh and he was interested to see if all was well. The herd was a part of his duty now. He didn’t necessarily have to interact with them but he did need to protect them… He would also probably have to get over his own anxiety and ask the stags for insight on fighting. The deer half of fighting but he also needed the wolf half.

 ”Not really… although I got some pointers from my dad.” Crux, who when he thought of him, he felt a lump in his throat. How he wished he could see the man again. ”He wanted me to learn some techniques from deer,” The proper use of antlers and boxing for example. ”But also said that I should learn from wolves as well.” What techniques he should guard against and how a wolf might attack. ”I’ve only been in a pawful of fights…” And the one with the feline made him feel absolutely weak... he never wanted to feel that way again. ”One with another wolf and one with a big cat.” With how he said “cat” it was clear his level of disgust.

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Wait, what?

He was confused. 'If your dad wasn't a deer, then what was he?'. He assumed he was not of the same species, by the interpretation of Hawking's explanation. Warwick's confusion came on point at a good time, as the herd were within clear vision. And he sat, looking at the deer with an expression that could only be deemed as baffled; he waited. Wanting to hear an elaboration before he took Hawking to Elkshires flock.

They spoke of their past brawls, and Warwick quickly noted their aversion to felines. 'What kind of cat was it?'. Not many frequented their territory, few passed by without cause for stress or commotion and if there were signs of them, scouts were sent their way to escort them out.

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 ”A wolf.” He said it as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Although, after a few heartbeats, he seemed to remember that it wasn’t. He cleared his throat and then clarified. ”I woke up in the north, in a forest of red trees… My father found me and adopted me as his own, into his pack. Event Horizon.” He was a prince in his own right, a royal stag that was wolf in heart but not by blood. Oh how he wished he could be.

 He turned his head towards the deer, noting some grazing and some that were keeping watching. He could swear that there was one looking at him. He averted his gaze from the herd, back to Warwick. ”I’m… not sure.” He didn’t really know the different types of felines. ”But it was big –bigger than any wolf even— and it carried me up a tree.” To toy with him. He was sure that the bastard got some sort of sick amusement from it. He halfway closed his eyes as he tried to recall the details of that long-gone day. ”It was gray white with black stripes all over.” He looked to his prince for clarification. ”Do you have any idea what it could have been?” What type of feline, rather.

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And now everything made sense. A crystallisation that unsheathed his previous misunderstandings. 'Another I have not heard of', he referenced the pack, unbeknown to himself, his mother knew and had already met with Crux, but Warwick would not have been born at the time of their dealings. 'May I ask why you wished to leave?'. Unless it was only to broaden his knowledge of the world, but then again, the dukes' understanding was Hawking wanted to remain with them and was not a fleeting venture.

They spoke of a beast, but Warwick merely shook his head, regrettably, 'I have do not. I have heard of burnt orange with stripes, but not white', he shrugged since he was oblivious to what it could have been. 'That must have been terrifying to been dragged by it. I can understand your reason for wanting to strengthen your resistance and prevent such an offence from happening again'. 

'Come, we can get closer than this, the deer are here, and the elk will not be trailing far'. He gestured toward the large gathering, some already with wary heads turned toward them, but most would nonchalantly carry on grazing since Warwick's habitual daily stroll past them gave them little reason to be on edge with him. But he walked parallel to them all, avoiding any lingering eye contact to not break that trust he worked hard to earn.

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 Ah, now those were bittersweet memories. His pack and then... the end of it. "A couple of reasons," Both of which were saddening, to say the least. "Event Horizon broke apart and at the end, I found someone who said he was willing to train me to be a warrior. I was always encouraged to take chances like that so I... tried..." An opportunity that was missed, if one were perceptive enough, they could hear the disappointment in his voice. An opportunity that he still felt bitter at himself over because he'd taken too long on the strange buck's offer. "But I took too long to get back and... I missed my opportunity. So, I wandered for a while with Rahma until I found Teodora --or, I guess, she found us-- and she brought us here." And there was the opportunity again to pursue his interests. To fight, to be in a pack amongst wolves where he felt the most comfortable.

 "I don't want it to happen to me again," Not that it would be as easy this time, he was much bigger now. "And I don't want it to happen to anyone I know either." Or rather, anyone he cared about... but it felt sappy saying it that way.

 He nodded at Warwick's words and followed the prince at his right side, slightly back to not intrude on his leading of this little patrol. As they went, he wouldn't look directly at any of the deer either... but he could see them without turning his head. He could hear them speaking in their own tongue, a tongue that he should know but didn't. He could only catch a word or two, distorted and almost unintelligible to his ears.

 Why was he this way?

 "Do you ever talk to any of them?" His words were hushed for the prince for he was unsure how many spoke the Common Tongue.

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He refrained from stretching his legs, keeping a sedate and leisurely gait while they bypassed this herd and onto the next, listening to Hawkings' history, paying close attention to every detail. He mentions a kind heart. 'Teodora, always so compassionate', he smiled fondly. 'I'm glad she did. And I hope you are already feeling at home and finding your feet here? We will do our utmost to further your skills and rest assured you will always be welcome here'. That was always something comforting, knowing you had a home to head back to, and by the grief recognised in the deers' words, Warwick wanted them to know there was stability here for them. 

The duke thought of the brief encounters with some that spoke in a mutual dialect. 'Very few are like yourself. Able to converse with wolves', he wanted to resist reiterating the blessing that came only from the High Elk to grant such a gift unto Hawking. 'But mother has always been strict with us, that we dare not intrude in their space. So I never have with those that don't understand us'. He looked at Hawking, the deer herd now behind them and in a separate clearly was the second Elk clutch. 'What about you?'. He made it clear he did not run with them but did he converse with them at all?

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 He nodded his head, agreeing with Warwick's assessment of Teodora. A kind wolf, one he was glad that had found them and offered them a home here. That was how he was growing to see Elkshire. They held very strange beliefs of deer and elk but he wouldn't be put off by that. He wasn't sure how he felt about the whole "High Elk" thing... especially when he was a deer that had been made so differently and strangely. "Thank-you, I really appreciate that. I do feel like I've got a home here... it's nice." Yes, he felt like he didn't want to leave and would be satisfied remaining here.

 When they spoke of the deer, he found himself thinking of Rahma. She wasn't exactly the most trustful of wolves nor wanting to mingle with them. "I don't speak the Deer Tongue... not well, anyway." Perhaps it was because he was but a young fawn when Crux had found him, but he had trouble knowing what was said. Sometimes he felt the pull, as if his brain wanted to understand... but it was exceedingly difficult. "The deer I've spoken to all spoke Common." He thought of the other language that he knew. "And none spoke Russian." He said with a bit of amusement. That was only his own mother and their family that did so. "I'm surprised that you guys haven't tried to learn it. I knew a wolf that did once." A long time ago, a time way back in the mountains.

 With the elk herd looming up, he couldn't help but notice how similar they all looked to himself. The same antlers though a different tint to their fur and much larger. He wondered if he was the same sort of deer as them... not that he really knew what sort of deer he was at all.

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He took note of the simple fact that Hawking could pigeon-talk some of the deer's dialect, but whether that came of use would be unforeseen. 

'Russian?', he had not heard of this language, was it a diverse branch of deer tongue? 'I would need to find someone who taught it. Who was this wolf you know of?'. It would be an asset he would enjoy nurturing, able to coo close enough to the deer herds that he was only there to help. But he also preferred the barrier between the two. 

They encroached upon the second herd. And Warwick came to a stop, appraising all, ensuring the numbers were correct, and he hoped Hawking watched as he did, so that he too could be reliant upon watching over them in Warwick's absence and need.

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 He smiled softly, happy to indulge Warwick because it brought pleasant memories. "My mother taught me. She's a wonderful wolf." Said because he knew her to be such and to reiterate that both of his parental figures were indeed lupine. "If you didn't want to seek her out though, I'd be happy to teach you." Having had lessons with the woman as a child over many months, he was quite fluent in it.

 He walked up with Warwick and stopped when his companion did so as well. He watches as the other seemed to study the herd, not just giving a cursory look. "What all do you look for when checking them?" He asked, wanting to learn all that he could.

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Warwick let out a soft chuckle, one that was not meant to sound mocking to the deer. 'I've never heard of that language before, how does it sound? But I meant if you knew of someone who taught the deer language'. How many languages did the deer know? 

The dukes gaze scrutinised the royals blessed beings, an ear twitching when Hawking asked him a question that would already place him in Warwicks good books. 'At first I gather their numbers, preying they are still as untouched as they were the day or few days before I last counted them. Although it is now not so uncommon for their numbers to have grown by morning', his crown bobbed in inclination to the early arrivals born in the still and quiet of dawn. He recalled his mothers warning of venturing too near during these delicate stages. 'And if any bear any injuries, that's principally the main of it'. And it was, as simple as that. Though Warwick would spend more time just simply watching them graze, and enjoy the pass time rather than it being a chore seen in this light by others that came to check them.

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 Ooohh, he let out a huff. Embarrassed at the miscommunication. "Oh, ha! I've only ever seen that wolf once... although @Rahma knows how to speak both Deer and Common." If the wolf could ever entice her into doing so. That would be a feat in and of itself. "Russian though..." He paused, pulling the language back from the dredges of his mind. It had been a while since he'd spoken it but he hadn't forgotten. "это звучит... так" — "It sounds... like this." His speak was a little halting but perfectly intelligible Russian. "My mother taught me."

 Hawking listened to his instructor, mentally taking notes as if this was his orientation for a new job. In all actuality, that's sort of what it was. In his previous pack he wouldn't have cared about the upkeep of the herds... but here, it was part of his role as an Elkshirian. He nodded, showing that he understood. "Do we hunt down those that injure them?" Make an example and show that these were not to be hurt? Or if someone snuck and and snuck out, did they leave it be?

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He smiled and nodded, slightly deflated that this wolf was someone now lost in the ocean of Canis. Perhaps one day he would find this beacon of hope, of being able to communicate even just slightly with their beloved herds.

Warwick's ears twitched at the unusual tongue, one utterly alien to him, and Hawking's pronunciation changed along with it. Almost puppy-like, did the dukes head cock from one side to another, intrigued by what they were saying, even though it was only for a slight moment. 'Wow, that sounds pretty'. It was certainly different to his ears, and he had been enlightened once again.

When drawing his attention back to the herd, Warwick took a last check of them before decidedly moving on. A few were glancing their way, and he didn't want them to fall into an uneasiness. So he beckoned Hawking to follow, back onto the route in which they came from. 'If they remain on our soil, then I would', he looked at Hawking though with a little concerned judgment in his eyes, 'But Hawking if they lust after the taste of ungulate blood, they may not hesitate for your own'. And it was a true peril the duke didn't think was worth risking. 'Most are swift to kill and leave, they know these are protected here. I, myself, would call on the pack if they remained in our home, though'.

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 The young stag's eyes hardened at the Duke's words. Even though they were words of caution, that anyone who would kill and eat those from the herds wouldn't hesitate to eat him, he didn't care. "Let them try. I'll let them have a taste of my antlers or of my hooves." The last taste they would ever have of anything. It wasn't that he was super protection of those in the herds... no, it was a point to prove. That he was more than just food for those with sharp fangs. There was a glint in his eyes, as if he were daring anyone in the world to try and harm him. He would welcome the challenge.

 Although, he knew of the strength in numbers. The true strength of the wolf. He nodded his head. "If any remain, I'll make sure to alert everyone else. Backup doesn't ever hurt." He would never shun fighting with his companions. "And so does practice." And he was eager to start sparring with the Duke whenever they got the chance. Perhaps not today, it seemed like a time for a lazy patrol but on another day? He would be ready. For now, he would meander along with the Duke and continue along on their patrol.

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The elk-prince gave a muffled chuckle, at their bravado and courage alike. Hawking was being seen in a different aura, delineated more like a combatant than perhaps just a sacred being. He'd never come across a deer or elk similar to him, the last would have been the Elk that was set the role of the infant's nanny, but Warwick would never come to know if he shared that warrior attribute. 

He nodded along to the newfound soldier's words, backup would always be needed within such a tight-knit pack, it was of utmost essential and guards were definitely sparse amongst their ranks so far. 

'I'll take great satisfaction in sparring and training with you', and an honest, trustworthy smile graced his lips as he turned to the sprightly deer. 

They carried on moving, engaging in further conversations as Warwick navigated the thickets, showing Hawking his patrol routine should he wish to ever take on the role.

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