Puvu

Laurelin, having been to the stag’s home more than a few times, easily took the lead after meeting up with Quor. There was no need to make him try to find his way when he felt as if he knew the path like the back of his hand. What sort of Fawn would they find this time?

Quor, trailing not far behind, did his best to keep his mind from wandering. He was nervous, of course, but he didn’t want to focus on that. With the countless new Fawns in the village, he was sure they would be fine. Even those who were found under less than calm circumstances made it out okay, thanks to the pair who found them. Laurelin knew what he was doing, anyway.

Upon arrival, Laurelin stopped short at the scene unfolding in front of him. Quor nearly toppled into the other, but looked up in time and found his hooves glued to the dirt as well, his mouth open in complete shock.

Nakir sat on the edge of his garden, legs crossed with his elbows resting on them, his face held in both hands. His eyes were closed, and tiny hands worked to clean the bird he wore as his signature. He huffed as a feather tickled his nose on its way to be woven into the feathers of the bird’s wings.

“Is all of this necessary?” he said quietly, doing his best not to move too much. Around his neck was a necklace made of vines and snail shells, messily tied together and somewhat falling apart. Braided into his tail tuft were flowers, though most of them had fallen out already.

“Yes, yes!” said the small figure who fidgeted around him. “If we’re going to have a party, you need to dress up, just like me!” They stopped to stand in front of him, feathers clutched in their right hand. Feathers, flowers, and similar snail shell jewelry adorned their features, from their mane to their wrists.

“And what about when the other two arrive?” Nakir tipped his head a fraction of an inch to left, his ears moving as it seemed he was trying to hear a way out. “Are you going to make them dress up as well?”

“Of course!” The bright Fawn stomped their hoof, as if insulted by such a question.

“Perhaps you should focus on them, instead.” Nakir cracked open an eye to look up at the pair, a small smile gracing his features. “Laurelin, you should be first, right? Since you’re the one in front, and I can only assume that means you lead Quor.” 

Laurelin took a small step back as the Fawn turned to them with a squeal of excitement. He signed up to go into the forest, have rocks thrown at him, sit in the moonlight, you name it. But dress up was not on that list.

Quor, on the other hand, stepped forward with a grin, happily moving to sit at Nakir’s left, introducing himself to the Fawn. He chuckled at the full glory of Nakir’s participation in the Fawn’s games before he looked up at Laurelin and nodded for him to come over.

The sooner they dressed up and had their “party,” the sooner they could get going.