be humble, for you are made of earth
Fur receives no explanation in regards to the ice-antlers atop his head that mimic her own calcified bony antlers. Still, he is similar in antlers and wildness, and she overlooks the fact that he does not answer her - not at first and not in the way that she most expects it, words. It comes as touch, in the way that his nose buried itself in her furry little nape and she snuggles deeper into his spotted side. His brief affection surprised her, made her take a step back and away from him as she judged his actions momentarily. Fur was ever cautious - overly suspicious, but he gave her no reason to fear him, only that one command, come.
She obeyed, hesitantly, but she obeyed.
Travel - fear - trust; they had exhausted her in turns and though he slowed his pace, she stumbled and struggled to keep up. The herd had never slowed for her, and she often chased them through the trees for days until finding them in nests of grass near streams that babbled too loudly to her in her sleep, making it short and fitful. She follows him; tired but diligent, her nose furious in its sampling of the air for anything awry and her ears never seem to stay still amidst the flaxen hair that tumbles crazily all down her face and neck, full of burrs and heavy knots. Fur bears a striking resemblance to a fawn as she trails him, close and closer still, almost able to secure a mouthful of his tail as a lifeline from her to him in case she needs it.
She nearly ran right into him as he stopped so abruptly that it caused her to huff quietly in disgruntlement. Fur peered up at him only to meet his stare and her mouth grew slack in surprise, why did he look at her that way? It was a look of consideration that made her squirm in place, unable to stand still for very long beneath such a long hard stare as that until she looked back up at him and gave him the tiniest of smiles that she could manage, or remember. Smiling still seemed a strange habit to her, as the deer never smiled with their mouths, or even their eyes but she had known the liquid shine of love in her doe-mother’s, that much she was sure of! Then, their trek resumed and glad of the short breather they had taken, she kept to his pace better this time.
The river loomed; she heard it before she saw it. A bit of unease bloomed as she backed up behind him, curious but cautious, as he crafted a bridge of ice over the river. He meant for them to cross it! She became nervous, not sure if she could trust his creation even though she trusted him, but the jerk of his chin in the ice-bridge’s direction meant he’d brook no disobedience from her and before he could think of snapping his teeth at her to hasten her across, she hopped up on the bridge and sprinted across it on quick clattering feet softened and slowed by the snow until she skidded to a stop on the other side. Fur listened to him, looked around in awe at the immensity of the trees. She understood home, but little of anything else he said to her in his rough burr of a voice that she found soothing. It made her seek his side and sequester herself there, in the soft thickets of his fur.
“Ru-an, home.” she echoed dreamily, even as his name came out broken by its foreignness on her tongue.
She might have answered him further had it not been for the fright the bird-horse caused her. The creature strode forth, impatient and jealous, and Fur backed away, abdicating his side to the tempest of strangeness that spun itself out in a small hurricane of cold looks and flippant gestures. She rounded his haunch and hid herself there, antlers catching in his tail as she peers back at them from the staunch shelter of his hind legs. Fur feels small, shrunken by the lack of welcome from this child of his - it called him dad, she recognized relation even if she did not wholly know the word, - and seethed. Seethed that she fled and hid, acting on instinctive impulse to a perceived threat - her, buckskin - navy - feathers, and Fur bared her teeth in response.