Chapter Text
Fleeing, fighting, falling through branches that whipped and cut into his flanks, the stag was hunted.
Never before had the ground felt so hard, each contact of his hooves into the littered underbrush shook through his muscles and made each leap a little slower; each of his breaths were a little harder to take in.
Voices and the cries of beasts chased him in the night. He dared not look anywhere but forward, rushing towards a finish line that none had ever reached before him and never would have the chance again.
But I am not the last, a voice reminded him and an image of a den nestled in a thicket seared into his mind making his heart seize with a nearly unbearable surge of agony and joy.
The dense trees began to clear and distracted by his thoughts, the stag burst into a clearing of long grasses and flickering lightning bugs.
Before him, stood a beast. The stag stopped running.
The beast had no discernible visage as it bore the mane of a great lion, the mass of a bear and the horrible and deadly fangs of a wolf. In the darkness, the golden dark brown of its fur was lost, but the stag knew the creature well by its eyes that reflected at him in the night. The stag's nostrils flared with each breath, but inside his heart was slowing. His chance was gone; his run was at an end. He took a breath and something like a sigh slipped from his body.
I've done all I could, the stag thought, lifting its head tall and proud, I've done all I could.
He stepped forward and in the shining light of the stars and fireflies, the beast could see the flowers that began to bloom along the spines of the stag's antlers.
The call of the hunt came again, horns sounding in the deep of the woods. There was no more time.
With a snarl filled with bitterness and regret, the beast leapt to meet him. It's teeth pressed easily into the stag's skin, with lips promising to soothe away the hurt as it's jaw locked and constricted.
In the quiet of the forest, the snap was deafening.