literature

The Storyteller

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Dee had never seen so many fawns in one place.

Evidently there had once been a raid, during the war, where the fawns of the Allied herd had been stolen. Now they were kept at the very heart of the herd, where they could be watched and kept safe with a multitude of guards and soldiers between them any anyone who might wish to bring them harm. 

Gealach's will aside, Dee had never much cared for the taking of fawns in Oakfern. Their parents might be Oathbreakers, but that was an inherited title. What had the parents done directly to deserve losing their baby? Was there anything more devastating?

Dee walked among them, and none seemed concerned. She was just another diminutive doe here. No one looked at her and thought "Fawntaker" like had happened in Glenmore. The Oakfern tunnels didn't make it this far- Windborne had nothing to fear from angry pygmies.

A freckled doe stood with the fawns, most of them captivated by her voice. She was in her prime, but wirey muscles had begun to go slack with disuse. Scars had begun to fade from time, but spoke to a history of fighting.

The doe was telling a story. It wasn't one Dee had heard before, but rather was about some hero of some Point Danger herd. Dee gathered that it was a long-ago story, since she hadn't heard of any Point Danger herd existing on the island despite all her travels. 

It was a story of heroes and adventure and romance and danger and despite herself Dee was pulled in. Before she'd realized it, she'd folded up her legs and settled in between a clump of four-year-olds to hear the end. Honestly, after so much time alone, it was refreshing and a little hypnotic to hear a truly engrossing tale. It was like being back home in her mother's cave, listening to her grandmother's stories of oldentimes. 

When the story ended, the fawns began to stretch and wander off to be entertained by their other caretakers. The storyteller got to her feet slowly, stiffly. She wasn't old, but her bones made her as slow as a grandmother. Dee sidled up to her, and the freckled doe didn't seem surprised.

"I thought you didn't look like a fawn. Can I help you with something?" the doe asked with the patience that comes of working with youngsters.

"Are you Inala?" Dee asked.

"Help me with these logs and I'll tell you."

Dee saw where she was pointing. There was what was once a neatly stacked barrier fences made of piled logs, probably meant to keep out predators from the creche. Some had been toppled, whether by young vandals or simply a strong storm. Dee helped the doe shoulder the logs back in place as she spoke. 

"If you're Inala then your mother's looking for you. I told her I'd help her find all her children before the end of her days. I'd very much like to succeed at that. She said her daughter was a warrior and had freckles and well, you had the look of both of those."

The doe closed her eyes and smiled. "I had wondered where she wandered off to. I suppose I should have gone looking before now. She always had a need to wander you know. Finding her was more luck than skill, and I guess I thought I didn't have the time back then. I suppose I'd better find time now, huh?"

Wrestling the last log into place, they began the trek to the Southern Plains.
:iconfawnlings:
Dee
Summer 765
Westhaven, Windborne

Fawnling Name: Dee
Quest Name: Aiding an Old Nomad
Quest Level: Wayfarer

Part 3

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Windklang's avatar
Congratulations! Dee has completed this Wayfarer quest.