The Vacation

Brynmore

Autumn was making itself known, the few deciduous trees were changing their coats, marking the typically dark forest with splashes of reds and golds here and there. Near the border, it seemed the tall dark pines and spruces were the ones who stood in stark contrast to the bright leaves of birches and maples and oaks.

Brynmore took a big gulp of air, breathing in the heady scent that the few leaves on the ground were giving off. They had been on their little island for a few days, though the travel there had taken longer than he’d wanted. Rosie had taken time out from traveling, finding herbs and plants along the way, and Gilly had run off more than once, and Danzig with his short legs and youth, had trouble keeping the demanding pace Bryn had wanted to set. He had brought along one of the protection charms he’d lined their little home with, just in case. But even with that, he had constantly watched over his shoulder, on high alert for any wolves, or even an errant ice bear that could have climbed down for an easy meal.

Even when they had arrived, his sense of duty hadn’t left, and he’d scoured the whole island to ensure no real danger was lurking there. Only a badger and some minks had scattered away when he’d chased them, and one had fallen to his hooves. It would make a fine pelt to line their tree den.

He watched his family lounge in the reeds that dotted the water logged area they were in now. The bog didn’t suck down their hooves, but it was soft and comforting to the hooves. A few small pussy willows sang in the distance, their long tendrils drifting here and there in a slight breeze. Smiling he looked to Rosie, watching her move, his heart leaping at the thought of her, that she was his.

Rosalie

Smiling to herself, the red doe walked easily through the reeds, sniffing out for some herbs and plants to place in the basket that hung from her neck. She’d come to rely on it, thankful for the friend she had made that one winters day. She was glad to be near her old home of Glenmore, and this island, held something special for her and Brynmore. She flicked her ears around, a slight blush coming at the memory of his gift of crocuses to her.

The flowers weren’t found anywhere, their blooming time had long passed, though the plants still clung. Spying one, she walked over and admired it’s strength. Almost without thought or intention, a flower started to bloom from the center, taking only moments to reach perfection. Grasping it gently, Rosalie pulled it up with her lips.

Looking over her shoulder, she tucked her head in as she saw Brynmore watching her, a shy smile playing on her face. Walking over, the basket bouncing off her shoulder, she set the flower down. “I think, it will look lovely on Gilraen.” She looked up at him, suddenly shy all over again. She’d known him the past two years, and still he had an effect during rut on her. He was their protector in this dark forest, looking so much like Oganach with his dark pelt and stars.

Danzig

Danzig was tired from their trek. He wondered where they were going. He missed the butterflies and the warm days when sunlight sometimes filtered down to tickle his nose. His legs hurt, and when he saw his mom messing with a flower that shot up strangely fast, he thumped down. The wolf pelt his father gave him was fitting snugger, now that he was growing up. He yawned. The pelt also kept him warm. Warm...nice and warm…

He laid his head down, his eyes blinking sleepily. He flicked his tail and curled it around as his parents whispered off to the side.

Gilly

A gentle breeze played with the loose braid of the dark doe. The pink flower her mother gave her a few months ago, was still in her braid. As long as she stayed close to her, the flower wouldn’t rot. She liked the smell of this part of the forest, with it’s pines and orange hues. She had grown a lot, her manes were starting to get long, and her fluffy coat was being replaced by a glossy coat such as her parents. She looked quite a lot like her father, with the dots on her coat looking like stars.
She wasn’t the only one that had grown a lot. Her little brother had got a wolf pelt from their father. It didn’t quite fit him yet, but that wouldn’t last long. He was tired, something that couldn’t be unseen. Gilraen had a lot of energy, but she could also start to feel her legs ache a bit. Of course she didn’t anybody know. She watched her mother performing her magic on a flower, and it bloomed instantly. She was always curious about magic, and couldn’t wait until she was the right age to train magic.
Secretly yawning, she laid down next to Danzig, and watched him curl his tail around his body.

Brynmore

A big grin erupted on the stags face as he watched Rosie get all shy and smiley. Her sensitivity, calmness, and innocence captivated him. She had done.... well.. in Blackwood, though many Glenmore does hadn’t. She seemed to have a hidden strength, or perhaps borrowed some from himself. He didn’t know, but he thanked the Mother every morning when he woke up with her by his side, their little ones nearby, that he had her, and that she remained.

A deep rumble echoed in his chest, agreeing with her. “Yes, I think they should look lovely on her.” He closed his eyes, moving closer to his mate, rubbing his nose along the crest of her neck, mussing up some of her mane.

CHIIT CHIIT CHIIT!!
Groaning inwardly, Brynmore looked over to the red squirrel, hopping and angrily chatting at him as she searched for nuts. Even in the two years, she still didn’t like him, though he’d grudgingly grown fond of her.

“Oh Aspen, it’s all right.” his mate chuckled, distancing herself from his embrace. Brynmore sighed, and walked over to his dozing children.

“Don’t worry little ones, we’re here. No more traveling for awhile.” His own sinewy muscles were tired from the long treks, and folding his legs, he crumpled down with an umph next to them, watching Rosie walk to Gilly. It wasn’t only a getaway from the herd they’d wanted, but Brynmore wouldn’t risk another rut with the herd. If he lost... Shaking his head he lowered his large antlers down, closing his eyes.

Rosalie

Rosie giggled quietly as Brynmore mussed her hair and embraced her with his huge neck. Even with it only being the beginning of rut, her senses tingled where their skin met. She didn’t know if she wanted another fawn so soon, she had enjoyed being free from pregnancy this past year, taking care of her two pale thunder and starlight fawns.

CHIIT CHIIT CHIIT!!
Rosie gave another giggle at being caught by Aspen. She felt the rumble from Brynmore as he groaned at the squirrel. “Oh Aspen, it’s all right.” giving a soft sigh, she moved away from her mate, the cooler autumn air chilling the warm part of her neck that had been pressed against him. Reaching down, she picked the flower up once again.

Taking a few steps, the soft ground hugged her hooves, though thankfully it didn’t suck her down. She eyed her two children, laying down among the reeds, almost hidden from view by the tall plants. Her ear flicked back as she heard Brynmore lay down as she walked to her daughter, and lay close to her.

Putting the crocus down, she called softly, “Aspen, please come here.” her voice sing songy and light.

Danzig
Danzig’s ears flicked up and he lifted his head as his parents spoke. He smiled broadly and stretched, flicking his tail lazily. He bumped his head over onto his sister and laid his tail over her as he snuggled closer to her to sleep.

CHIIT CHIIT CHIIT. Danzig looked up with a puzzled frown. What could the red fluff want? He was disturbing his peaceful rest. Danzig made a yawning growl noise as he stood up, turned in a circle and laid back down with his sister. He pinned his ears and flicked his tail over his face to cover his eyes and block out the world.

“Where are we going, mama?” He asked quietly from beneath his tail.

Gilly

A loud chittering sound, which was definitely coming from the small squirrel, made Gilraen push her ears back. She let out a soft growl. Very fun, a pet squirrel, but the noises he made weren’t really a pleasure. Danzig stood up and laid down again. She could feel the heat of his coat, hidden underneath a thick layer of youngling fluff.
She laid her eyes on the little plants, which were growing all around them. She sighed and started eating them, still laying with her brother. “Were are we going, mama?” He asked softly. She turned her head around to hear their parent’s answer. She was curious too.

Brynmore

Eyes still closed, Brynmore answered his son, “We’re hear.” his voice was a bit gruff, and he sighed as his mind went to mush at exhaustion and disappeared into dream world. Even in sleep, his ears flicked about, ready to wake him at a moment’s notice.

Rosalie

Rosie looked to her mate as he slumbered. “Danzig, we are here as your father said. This island, it is special to me and your father.” Fond memories of that day warmed her heart as she stood over her daughter. “I hope you two have fun here, and make special memories as well.”

Aspen bounded up her leg unto her shoulder, squeaking softly at her. Smiling, she offered the crocus to her, and gestured to Gilly. “Please Aspen, it’s for Gilly.”

The red squirrel jumped nimbly down onto Gilraens neck, and started another braid for the crocus, tiny paws working fast as the silver hair flowed, and finally, secured the flower above the small pink one she had found awhile ago.

Jumping away, she climbed up a tree, looking out across the island. “Thank you Aspen.” she whispered as she too, sank down next to her children, a content smile on her lips.


A few days later

Rosalie

The grazing was good, by Blackwood standards. It was a bit tricky, but she was able to grow some food for them as they walked and played along the island. The children were certainly enjoying themselves as they ran about the reeds and bramble patches, playing games and laughing all the while. She and Brynmore enjoyed some private time together. The thought made her blush as she gathered a few bramble twigs in her basket. Trying to get her mind out of the bramble, she wondered if the twigs could do anything, if they could be eaten or used for upset tummies.

She had already collected a few flowers, crocuses to try and plant to add some color and life to their little home, and some small stock of a berry bush that had tasted delicious.

She gave a gasp and jumped a bit as she felt a muzzle light across her back, fire seeming to jump at the touch. Giving a giggle, she looked back at Brynmore, a smile ever widening. Wrapping her tail around his, they walked together, spying the children as they ran about and played, always staying close.

Coming up to a relatively cleared area, they paused. Rosie looked around, it felt different here. A slight breeze blew through the trees and bramble, carrying a familiar scent. Stag. A rush of fear came through her as the wind decided to blow their scent the opposite direction. Brynmore tensed beside her, she felt his muscles go rigid as she tensed herself.

The sound of crashing trees and splintering twigs echoed through, coming closer and closer. The children had come up to them by then, drawn by their parents stillness and the crashing sound.

A red form, a huge stag became visible through the veil of trees and branches, trotting powerfully closer. Her trembling froze as she recognized the stag, albeit from only a distance. She hadn’t known him, only that he’d come on patrol a few times near her home at the oak hollow. He wreaked of Glenmore, a smell she enjoyed and feared. Brynmore whispered something to her, though she didn’t hear it as she stared transfixed at the looming stag.

“GO, hide with the fawns!” he shouted at her, and only reacting, she gathered the children up, bounding behind her mate, hoping nothing bad would happen.

TO BE CONTINUED