Leif

As his final note faded from the fresh air that surrounded him, disappearing into the evening sunset, another sound caused a large, soft oval ear to twist to the side. It was a warbled, bleating song, the familiar echo of his own kind meeting his ears, grasping hold of him in surprise. Inexperienced of a song as it still was, it was familiar, and beautiful. Blue-green orbs followed the sound, the song, the bull-Elk's elegantly shaped head turning to regard just who had joined him at the end of his bugle. Leif hadn't known that there were others. Elspeth and Rexanna's surprise at seeing him had led him to believe that there weren't, but clearly, he had been wrong...

It was a young calf, a young doe, spotted marks upon her rump as thin, elegant, three-toed feet carried her across the distance between them as a dancer might move across their stage. She was a nimble thing despite her age, quick and agile in a way that only their kind could be, but the longer that the Elk's gaze traveled upon this youngling, he came to realize that she wasn't full deer. There were noticeable features about her that was strictly horse, but Leif thought her charming all the same, and so offered her a masculine, but warm smile nonetheless.

He knew that if he had not met with Banjo in the Threshold, that he would be quite taken aback by the lovely calf in front of him.

'You're like me!' She stated, her childish tones full of breathlessness and genuine delight. 'Well... Kind of.' 'Kind of' was quite true. They shared similar attributes, but they were clearly not the same... Not completely, anyway. She went on, introducing herself as Romina, and his smile softened.

"Hark, Doe-Romina," Leif stated in greeting, briefly wondering how in the world he should go about physically greeting this lovely young lady. Elspeth had said to brush muzzles with their friends, like she had displayed with Rexanna, but... Leif did not know this young half-doe, and he didn't think that butting antlers with her would be such a good idea, either. How should one greet someone that they never met? "My name is Leif, and we are quite similar, aren't we?"

His expression softened and he shook the mighty tines upon his antlers. "It's so wonderful to see one of my own kind, even if we aren't completely alike. And one who knows of my songs!" Perhaps, if Romina could bugle like he could, Leif could pass on his knowledge of his songs, could pass on the songs that his very own mother had sung him, so that they would not die with him.

"You have a lovely bugle, Doe-Romina."

the white stag