My first sign that something was coming had been a very distinct sensation of alert, followed by a mild fear, coming from Duir, who had stared out into the bordering, green stalks with such intensity that I’d followed his gaze. The bamboo had rustled, rattled, at last revealing what appeared to be some sort of mutated raccoon coming for us.

Duir recovers more quickly than I do. Before I’ve had time to back pedal two steps, his fear has dissolved into friendly curiosity, the eager pull to become friends strong as it is with all young creatures. Bounding and prancing shakily forward (he almost careens over once, twice), he eagerly lowers his dark nose towards the golden backed weasel beast, oblivious to or not concerned about the arrangement of teeth it might have. His tail swishes swiftly about his dappled backside, a loud and grating bleat of greeting escaping his mouth (I will come to learn that deer make very few pretty noises, despite their physical grace).

I’m still quite startled, however, as the very, very pretty stranger reveals herself some few seconds after the peculiar ground monster. I look quite shameful with my tangled hair splayed indignantly about my neck and shoulders, the darting light of worry still flashing through my golden eyes that are locked on the polecat – until she arrives, that is. Her golden back shimmers in the light of the Moon’s prize grove, crystal eyes framed with ink; trinkets shine on her face.

She apologizes for arriving at such a time. Her bonded does not seem to share the same polite regard, about as interested in Duir as Duir seems to be in him, but I honestly don’t mind. It’s not like she saw me cleaning him up, at least.

It was… unpleasant. All that remains of that horror is the shiny shell. I cover the shudder of my body with a full blown shake to put my mane back where it belongs. When all is said and done, I smile at her, finding that it’s easy to do. I’m in a particularly good mood (maybe it’s this winterless, sing song soul all tangled up in mine) and she’s particularly good looking.

"Thank you," I answer, nodding to her in greeting. I don’t really know what else to say. It’s awkward, being a deer dad.

"I’m Rikyn," I say next, because it makes sense, right? – and I point at the gold embellished, newborn buck, using my horn as I always do, smiling like an overly happy loon because it’s the first time I’ve got to introduce him to anybody (and she happens to be super pretty), "and that’s Duir."

[ OOC: :D:D:D:D ]