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 Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:50 am
 Vexed doesn’t know when it happened. They were strangers - from the start, only strangers roughly thrown together by the cruelties of fate. She could still see it clearly in her mind’s eye, remember the fear that had gripped her by the throat when she first saw him, a portent of grief by her dear Be Mine’s side. They were strangers, and she had first felt fear. But lately, he had become less and less a stranger, and less and less she felt it fair to look at him and remember fear.
And now, when their eyes met across the feather tree, she smiled.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:51 am
Most of his life had been spent feeling anxious and uncertain - he had never figured out a purpose for his existence, and he had been even more rocked by the realisation that he had brought evil (his mind sometimes dramatised) into the swamp, and he could never escape his knowledge, nor dismay, of how his first clutch had turned out. For the first time in his life he had decided to try and do something right, and when he indulged in his own thoughts, felt like he was rewarded for it. Never had he experienced the giving warmth that Vexed provided, her absolute sincerity and love. He was awed.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:53 am
The grandfather of my grandchildren is my… - not that Be Mine was actually her child, however much she loved her like one, nor his grandchildren her grandchildren, however she loved them like hers. But it seemed such arbitrary distinction to her, every time she fussed over a crying foal, or taught a colt to pluck a bird. They had cared for the babies together, in support of Be Mine where she had the strength, in place of Be Mine when she needed rest.
He had the blood, and she only love, but the hoof they used to nudge a child away from threat and back to warmth held exactly the same tenderness.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:53 am
Filament admired her kindness and the matter-of-fact maternal attitude she had to Be Mine - if there was one negative serving his penance, it was the feeling that he should have been a better father to his children. He knew not how then, but he did now, and wished he had known better. He would never have known whether they would have turned out less damaged and destructive, but he would have at least tried. He also learnt, from the way she worked, that what was done, was done - and he worked through the guilt by investing himself in the well-being of Be Mine's children.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:55 am
And he was gentle - so gentle. Perhaps the gentlest buck she had ever known. He was calming - he shushed the children so much better than she ever could. He had the infinite patience she knew she herself so lacked. Such a mild buck, such a gentle voice. When she fretted - and she fretted often - his reassurances were balm. When had she began to think of his reassurances as balm?
So gentle. And he almost did not cringe now, when he watched her deftly gut the birds she caught, her sharp hoof dripping gore and blood. So thoughtful.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:55 am
Her strength was overwhelmingly refreshing: the first time he watched her systematically dissect birds he was in horror, but also in awe of that straightforward approach. Sometimes he slipped and considered how he might've bettered Be Mine's situation, but again, what was done was done, and managed to keep upbeat without indulging in his thoughts. He learned to be a better hunter, and he thought, a better buck. He couldn't have done that if he hadn't encountered Vexed.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:56 am
And even if he wasn’t exactly...as easily classifiable as she preferred. ...As...symmetrical as she might otherwise seek (as much as she hated to validate her strange son Bitten’s urges)... Even if...in fact, he wasn’t symmetrical at all, and actually exceedingly hard to classify with his swirling gradients and spots meandering up one side and now another...she found that, day by day, it bothered her less and less. That more and more she could nod at the variance of his colours and appreciate rather than guiltily calculate in her head where on Earth could she hang him if he were a bird, within the rainbows, yes, but that saturation, and then there was that patch -
- Yes, bit by bit, she could appreciate and stop thinking about hanging him up.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:56 am
She had certain...preferences, he knew, from curiously watching her sort and string up her birds and feathers, and sometimes felt inadequate to be in the presence of her work and her very lovely self. But Vexed only treated him with kindness, and he could not detect any sort of deception from her. She moved him deeply.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:57 am
It was not love, not as such. She had before felt the blooms of love, that strange, heady, anxious beating, and perhaps she might feel it again, but this was not love. Love was strange, and strong, and even frightening, but this was steady, soft. A feeling a little bit like...home. This was not love, but perhaps peace.
This was contentment.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:57 am
In the haze of his confused mind, he felt joy and peace - his anxieties subsided from time to time, and it was a wonderful feeling to be so free. He was grateful to her, he was deeply fond of her, and those feelings only grew.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:57 am
And she doesn’t know when contentment became so content, that one night, as the others slept and the full moon rose like a pearl, when their eyes met across the feather tree, she smiled. And then she did not look away.
She rose to her hooves, silently, and then she looked away, as she took soft steps to a quiet grove and waited to see if she would remain alone.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:58 am
He was watching over the boys, having completed his nightly prayer (that they wouldn't turn out like... that) when he looked over. Filament felt like he belonged, watching Vexed in the moonlight, amongst the gentle sway of the feathers on her tree. When she left, he could not help but follow the path of that beautiful doe, gently stepping between the hooves of their grandchildren. *******
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:58 am
This was not her first trip down this road, and the first few days, she wondered if the signs would begin. They did not at first, and she stopped paying heed. Contentment still reigned. Nothing had changed. Except now and then their eyes met and they exchanged little smiles, that were sheepish, but not displeased.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:59 am
He remembered the familiar anxiety in his chest when he first woke in a daze besides warm fur, and felt it dissipate as he remembered what happened and who it was, and he feared no more. He almost felt like a colt again, giddy from having a secret that wasn't utterly horrible and ruinous. After a while of going about their daily business, the childish excitement calmed to a constant warmth he held dear.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 8:59 am
Of course, when she had almost entirely put it out of mind, the signs began. She waited, and waited, till she was perfectly sure, and then she took him aside one day, when the others were out and about, in the shadow of endless feathers under the midday sun, to confide:
“I’m pregnant.”
She waited for his reaction, and now she was nervous. She knew how he felt about his children.
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