There was a smile on my face. My ears were slightly lopsided. Overall I looked peaceful, content. But in all honesty, I was far from that dream. Caves were not my friends. At least, they weren't when I had no choice but to be in them - which seemed to be the only times that I ever ended up being inside of them. There was a wide array of bad experiences and concerning images that could flow through my mind with things such as this.

Silently, I re-positioned my frame so that I was laying comfortably across the glowing moss that seemed to coat the ground like a blanket. It was comforting to know that if I really looked around, really felt this underground structure we were using as a sanctuary, that I would not have to fall prey to what I had been subjected to in the past. Things seemed different here - much different from where I had been.

He was moving toward me, after he had finally finished taking in his water and looking around the cave. I could feel each step, the straining of his ears as he pricked them up in interest and then lowered his maw so that he could brush against my side. It was delicate, and the warmth of his breath was comforting as I allowed my head to start to drop towards the ground, eyes closed and ears twitching to listen to every single sound that radiated through the cavern. I jerked a little, muscles tensing and twitching as I felt him run his maw across my back. Had their been any weight in his touch I would have probably lapsed into something that was near impossible to yank me from. But, at the moment, I had the strength to keep myself from going there. His touch wasn't strong enough try and snap the bones that lay beneath the layer of bones and muscle. It wasn't like the tree. It wasn't like the stags that had mounted me. No. The brief touch and warmth of the breath that spanned out and curled around the raised edges of the scar was enough to keep me from getting lost in a flood of memories.

It is his voice, though, that does the most to keep me from sinking deeper into the pit of despair. Three words, but enough, more than enough. My throat itched to vocalize, but the words would not come out even if I wished for something such as that to happen. My eyes flicker open and try to meet his gaze before I offer a small nod of my head. I shift my weight a little before patting my maw against the soft moss and looking back up toward him with a tilted head.

Would he join, or insist on standing? Either way I supposed was fine, as long as he was in the room with me. I was finding that recently I had been growing more attached to the stag who had understood me when I felt most shunned. I kept telling myself I was staying near him so that I had someone who could understand. I kept telling myself that he was only there because of the promise. But could it be something more that had me so willing to stay by his side, keep up with his gigantic strides, fight to find a way to communicate with him?

No. It couldn't be something more...

But what if it was?