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Spring, Year 749 of the New Age
The Cape, Windborne
Alshain had woken early this morning, eager to start the day. He frolicked about like a small fawn again, though he was becoming a robust 5 year old stag, his forehead itchy with his brand new antlers that would soon come in the following autumn. They hadn’t peaked yet, but he knew they would come! He had worked hard the past year, training with his father and a few of the other bucks his own age. Many other young fawnlings were pacing about in the pre-dawn mist, all anxious about todays ceremony.
A small tang of bitterness creeped in his mouth. Most, if not all the others who were to be initiated today were younger than him. His father had held him back from this journey, training him to compensate for no magic. He knew it would make him stronger, but he was envious of the others who were younger than him, they would be the same level as him, three year olds learning at the same rate as him!
First LessonsFirst lessons
Summer, Year 748 of the New Age
Bunyip Creek, Windborne
“Now my son, come along.” The gruff stag said as he wandered away from his mate and their only son. He was such a shabby color, plain and unremarkable brown with a dark mane and tail. His coat was dusty from travel, sweat streaked with white lines across where the salt had dried. He had arrived earlier in the day, and hadn’t had time to wash.
Alshain loved it. He thought his father the most handsome, awe-inspiring stag he’d ever met. His own dark coat was just as shabby a color, unremarkable in every way. Having been told so, he thought it was best and most attractive to be such a non-flashy color. It helped with soldiering, for sneaking in when others of distinct markings would be spotted in an instant.
An eager step in his trot, he followed after his father. “Please be careful.” his bright copper mother called out, in that annoying whispery way she did.
Bring mich nach HausSummer, Year 759 of the New Age
Tree stump Den, Blackwood
Birds twittered high in the canopy, some stray sunlight streaming down from the heavens graced the barren ground of Blackwood. Rosalie walked around the perimeter of her home, pausing every now and then to sniff the ground for a good spot to dig. Her son Danzig played with Aspen, while Gilraen napped in a spot of sunshine. Rosie smiled as she walked, that happy content feeling a mother has creeping up through her till her face was lit up.
“Hmm, where to start this?” She cocked her head as she gazed around the land, tail twitching. “Someplace with lots of sun for the plants to enjoy.” She walked to the spot she originally wanted, a large patch where the sun shone most of the day. Sniffing again, she pondered if some of her plants would do well. She wanted to keep some of the more useful plants close to home, plants for tummy aches, headaches, cuts and scrapes. So far she only had three plants, two for tumm
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