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Vertigo's current situation is, well, less than expected-- but certainly not very surprising, he supposes. After all, he's nearly the definition of 'not committed' at least not unless he, well, commits himself. Though that hadn't been the case when he'd decided on a night of fun with Does-Bite-Hard, the doe who is, and has been, carrying his children. His children!

The idea excites and faintly terrifies him.

Of course, once he'd found out-- well, he couldn't simply leave the poor doe. So he'd stuck around, and watched as her belly grew larger and larger. But recently, he's taken to a bit of wandering in order to take time to himself, and as he makes his way around a bend of cypress, he finally pauses, and lets out a heavy sigh.

He's anxious, excited, and worried, as, perhaps, any new father might be (at least any new father who sticks around), and it's been showing more and more, the closer Bite has come to giving birth. He finds himself hoping desperately that all the little sacs will be healthy, and the baby foals inside. It's a strange feeling, this weight of responsibility. A burden, yes, but also a source of some happiness and pride.

Seemingly alone, Vertigo makes his way a bit further into the thick Cypress trees. He's just about to take a turn he's never explored before when, out of the corner of his eye, he catches a hint of bright yellow through the dense foliage. Intrigued, he heads toward it.

The crane that comes into view is, he thinks, one of the most spectacularly colored, and patterned, ones of the species he's ever seen before. Though it simply stands there, stock still, as he stares at it. Perhaps he's frightened it?

"Hey there, crane. I won't hurt you," he smiles a bit-- and he does seem very kind when he does that. "What are you doing out here all alone? Though I suppose someone could ask me that, too... what with Bite being pregnant, and at the den alone. Though I do plan to bring her back some of her favorite berries and fish later...." The buck doesn't seem to find it odd at all to talk to a crane. Though whether or not this is because he's just strange, or just very open, is difficult to tell.

Vertigo blinks, startled, as the voice surrounds him. There is no one else, that he can see, with him other than the crane, and the experience causes a tingle of nerves down the back of his neck. He's not really frightened, exactly, but he is certainly surprised and, to be honest, a little awed. He's heard tales of the legendary kimeti, of course. Those capable of taking the form of various swamp creatures, and granting blessings to kimeti who are in need, or want, of them. Though he has never met one. And any doubts as to their existence are quite shattered.

At least, he thinks, it explains the shear beauty of this particular crane.

After a moment, he catches himself from staring for longer than might be considered polite, and nods. "...Yes, she is. And, I have no idea. This is my first time you see-- er, being a father, that is. At least, the first that I'm aware of... I couldn't just leave her, you understand, after I knew." Though, of course, once they are birthed, he doesn't think he will be staying much longer. After all, while he has come to feel affection for Bite, he knows it isn't love.

He sighs, softly, "I only hope that they will be healthy, and strong, and good. And, of course, that Bite is, too."

The light sense of laughter causes him to relax a little more, as well, and he offers another faint smile toward the crane. Though as she approaches him (he knows for sure that she is, in fact, a she since she's spoken), Vertigo becomes a bit nervous once more. The entire experience feels surreal and intense, and not, at the same time. Later, he will find himself restless with remembering the experience, but, for now, he is simply enthralled.

He doesn't move away, but lets himself remain still as the crane looks deep into his eyes. He finds himself matching his gaze, and has the curious sense that this crane, this legendary kimeti, can see right into his soul--- but he says nothing. Perhaps, he is unable to speak. After a moment, he blinks, and the sensation seems to lessen, though he doesn't quite understand what it is she's been looking for.

All he really knows is that, having unexpectedly found this doe, he hopes that she will grant his hopes for healthy children. That she will help ease his worries about them being fit, and sound, and that Does-Bite-Hard should be the same.

Finally, a decision seems to be made, and as the soft, feathered head of the crane touches his, Vertigo closes his eyes. The crane doesn't seem to say anything out loud, and yet, there is the curious sense that something has been made. There's no way he could really have hoped to explain it to anyone, but he feels more at ease. There are no real words that he can discern, but there is a definite sort of voice, a presence, that, for just a fleeting moment, seems to touch him. He's certain it has something to do with the crane, but just what it is-- he has no idea.

Then, just as suddenly and gently, it's gone, but the sense that something good has happened remains. His worries seem lessened, somehow, yet, curiously, because of it, he feels even more anxious than ever to check on Does-Bite-Hard, just to confirm for his own eyes that she, and their unborn children, are alright.

"..Thank you," he says it softly, and sincerely, even though he doesn't quite understand what has taken place. He only knows that this legendary has helped him in some great way, and his gratitude is true.

"Could I... would it be appropriate to ask your name? I'd like to remember it when I think of this later, as I'm sure I will."

"Webweave.." He repeats it, as if to better ingrain it into his memory-- not that he's likely to ever forget it. Vertigo smiles at her, "And I am Vertigo. I hope we might meet again some day, if only to talk. But for now, I must get back to my den with Bite."

He turns, after she goes back to staring at her tree, and heads back the way he came. By the time he gets back, the daylight is waning-- having spent some time picking branches full of juicy berries, and catching a fat fish for their dinner. With immense relief, he steps into the darkness of their den, and gives Bite an affectionate nuzzle, glad to see she's alright, and settles in for the night. For some reason, though, he doesn't recount his tale to her, of his strange meeting with Webweave. Though he does think about it long into the night.