Post by Sohtoh on Aug 7, 2009 1:06:33 GMT -5
This Season Has Just Started ...
Cast
Roscoe - Male Whitetail Deer
Chanson - Male Whitetail Deer
Tix - Female Whitetail Deer
Setting
Old Chestnut Tree
-----
Over the past few weeks a strange change has come over Chanson. He's been feeling a little more aggressive, a little more rambunctious... a little more *dangerous.* Okay, well, he's probably not deadly or anything, least of all to larger animals like Roscoe and Niabi, but he's been putting himself out there, sniffing about and treating the other buck with some healthy distance in case he decided to start the rutting season early. Scratching antlers on trees and generally trying to make himself look bigger, fluffier, and more... well, attractive! It's what he's *supposed* to do, right? He has no wish to cross antlers with Roscoe, still wary of him, but... if it's what must be done. He has to make a good show of it at least. But of course, he must first find an opponent worthy of his mediocre skills.
Having been at the mercy of Roscoe's irritated moods with the antler-rubbing and general hormonal changes, Tix found it a nice pleasant change to leave the stag behind and venture out a little about the Glade. Just for some peace and quiet! She wasn't going to run off this time and she had been quite firm on that. As the female Whitetail approached the old Tree, she made sure to avoid the holes and dens, keeping to one side where she could graze peacefully. There was still no sign of her winter coat beginning to peek through, but aside from this she looked to be healthy and alert. She had made it obvious to Roscoe that she was here, so if he chose to follow her, it would barely take him much time. Relaxing in the shade of the Chestnut tree, the doe continues to eat her fill without paying much interest to what was occuring around her.
It actually didn't suprise Roscoe at all when he had walked back through the glade, and Tix's scent had faded slighlty. Obviously, she wasn't there. She'd been in a roaming sort of mood these days it seemed, but her scent wasn't far gone. It still lingered, and that meant to him that she hadn't been gone too long. But what with the rut setting in sooner and sooner, it concerned him a bit that perhaps she might run into a stray male somewhere else. Large ears swivelled backwards and his eyes narrowed onto a trail that he would follow in order to find her, his pace quickening as his frustration built. Keeping her locked up in the glade really wasn't his intention, but did she have to wander around so much? Trotting through the forest, the familiar form of the large chestnut tree loomed overhead and her scent was stronger here. Cloven hooves stepped over the large, tangled roots of the tree quietly and his head lowered at the sight of the smaller doe resting. A sigh of relief was breathed, and he slowly a
approached her, almost not wanting to be noticed.
Chanson has never been to this part of the forest, but he does notice another scent he's only smelt from a distance. A female! What fortuitous fortune! Oh, wait... his keen ears pick up something else coming nearby. It must be him. Oh, great, just who he *didn't* want to see around this time of the year. Well, he had decided to not *deliberately* ignore the other male, so there's nothing for it but to keep going towards him and the newcomer, adroitly keeping his antlers from tangling on the undergrowth as he approaches the ominous tree, trying to be a little louder than normal so he doesn't have to announce his presence with a thunderous shout or anything.
Tix is quite content to have Roscoe follow her, but as planned, she seems not to notice him when he finally does catch up. Instead, her attention is focused on the sweet blades of grass. Delicious! Of course, it doesn't take much for the female's attention to be drawn away from her meal as the sound of cracking twigs underfoot catches Tix's attention. Reflexes kick in and the doe's head shoots up, ears perked towards the sound of the noise. Remaining still and listening, the lack of wind makes the scent of Chanson's approach all too obvious. And naturally, having not scented another male before, Tix is instantly curious. She makes no frantic dash towards the source but she does begin to slowly move in the younger male's direction, wanting to discover who had approached.
As soon as the doe's head shoots up from her relaxed grazing position, Roscoe's head follows suit and the scent of the other buck, Chanson, wafts through his nostrils. Instantly a dangerous scowl forms on his face, and the rather aggressive male dashes in front of Tix, blocking her path. Like hell if he was going to even let her meet this other male. Though she wasn't an object, Tix was /his/ doe. This whelp would have a lot of angry Roscoe to go through if he'd even thought about what he knew what all young bucks thought about at this time of year. The Prince's ears shoot back in aggression, his eyes meeting Tix's with a fire to them, though his tone towards the female is not aggressive. "It's nothing, Tix," he said gruffly, and glared back in the direction of the other buck's scent.
Nothing! Is *that* all he has to say about him! Instantly all those encouraging words from Niabi evaporate in the face of indignant anger. Chanson decides that Roscoe is going to get a piece of his mind when he finally sees him... though upon actually seeing him, he starts to wilt a little bit, until his flaming anger is more of a simmer. "Hello," he says tersely, glancing between him and the female as he stops a respectable distance away. Almost right away he can tell that "civil" conversation is not going to be very likely here. "Uh... nice tree to graze under."
It's typical that Roscoe decides to show up when the female was just about to find something interesting! Although startled by his sudden appearance and dismissal of the noise, Tix simply isn't convinced like that. "Nothing? Then I can take a look?" She makes an attempt to step around the stag, when the other pops into view. For a moment it seems like Tix has had a bucket of cold water splashed in her face, as she stares at Chanson. For a moment she can't quiet believe that she's seeing another -male- Whitetail! Oblivious to Roscoe at the time, Tix tilts her head and blinks, recalling to memory the name Roscoe had given her. "Chanson?" She asks quietly, paying no attention to his remark about trees and grazing.
Ohh, if whitetails could growl. However, the buck feels a rumble in his throat just out of pure, hormonal driven /rage/ that this other male would bother to show up now, of all times, and at a spot where he and /his/ doe were relaxing. Well. She was relaxing, he'd only come here to collect her. Good thing he had, too. Otherwise, this snivelling youngster would've tried something.. he was sure of it. A gruff sound comes from Roscoe again as he stands once again, aggressively in front of Tix. Perhaps his aggression was misplaced, as he was showing a good deal to the doe as well, by keeping her behind him by force. "I /said/ it's nothing.." he said in a dangerous tone, his head turning sharply to Chanson, a fighting look to his eyes. Those ears pinned against his head, his head held lower than usual in a display of his dominance. "Get.. out." he gave him one warning. There were no civil communications between bucks during this time of the year, even if this was only the pre-rut.
"A-yup... that's my name," Chanson answers the doe, desperately wanting to get to know her at least (her name for starters) since he hasn't seen one for a long, long time. But there's the problem of the antler-murderer right over there. And this, to Chanson, is going too far, even for a pre-rut. Whether or not they *had* to fight, he wasn't going to be treated like a nobody, especially not by some snooty, jumped-up Prince! If he wants a fight, he'll get one for sure, rar rar... "This 'nothing' would rather stick around..." he says through gritted teeth. "Like I said... a nice place to graze."
Tix seems genuinely surprised by the reply and tone of voice. He seemed younger than Roscoe, and so much different personality-wise! Of course, Roscoe isn't going to let her investigate, is he? She flattens her ears back, a little annoyed and stomps a hoof against the soil. Is he overreacting? "A pleasure to meet you." The doe calls over Roscoe's back, hoping at least a conversation isn't going to lead anywhere bad. She would have offered her name, but she felt that perhaps that may have gone a tad too far at this point. Drawing back slightly Tix moves aside to begin grazing again, as if paying no interest in the quarrels of males.
The very brief conversation between the two does just enough to frustrate the overly aggressive Prince. So much so that he turns back around to face Tix, and glares down at her, as if warning her not to speak to the other buck again. Stretching out his front limbs conspicuously, Roscoe shakes his head from side to side and lowers his head further. "Nobodies like you aren't welcome here," he says threateningly, and juts his sharp tines towards Chanson in a final attempt at a warning. "Find someplace else." Well experienced in sparring, Roscoe had size, age, and ego over the younger male. His weakness however was that he hadn't fought against another buck in well over a year, and those had been practice runs before his father's death. Still, he obviously wasn't afraid of any competition.
Scared or not, Chanson is going to provide whatever competition his body can muster. He hardly even cares about the doe anymore... he just wants to take this guy down a peg! And *then* rub his nose in it that his girl wants to talk to *him* instead. "Nobody? *Nobody?*" Chanson snaps, his body beginning to shake. He didn't come this far just to get ridiculed, to be ignored all over again. "Is that how it's going to be? I come all this way just to be another nobody?! Well fine then! Get prepared to be *beaten* by a nobody!" He shakes his head wildly and stomps the ground, flaring his nostrils and making the first move, hopping towards Roscoe with a leaping thrust.
At this point, the Princed doesn't even bother to dignify the lesser buck with speech. Instead, he merely stands his ground and waits for the younger male to do something stupid, like all inexperienced, hormone-hyped youngin's like this one. He was no different from the brother stags that'd left the bachelor group his father built back in the cold lands. Brash, stubborn, and stupid. His heavy body planted in the ground, the larger whitetail's head lowers into a defensive stance as he readies himself for the clash of their antlers. It comes with a good deal of force from the other male, but Roscoe is larger and therefore can take the hit with little difficulty. Pushing himself forward and thrusting his sharp antlers in any angle that'd threaten the safety of Chanson, the darker male pushes against the competition viciously, and with little regard for his well being. The less bucks at this time, the better.
Oh snap! Chanson forgot he doesn't actually have a chance of winning! Well, too late now... and his brain isn't exactly thinking straight. Its' whupping time! Almost instantly he's overborne by the shoving weight of the larger male, retreating backwards so he can absorb some of the blow of just getting bowled over by it, muscles bulging as he flexes to escape the seeking tips of Roscoe's antlers. Is he insane?! Chanson tries to disentangle his antlers so he can seek a position that doesn't have him battering himself senseless on a rock of a skull like Roscoe's... and any humor from insulting his head is lost on the young buck as he realizes the error of his ways. He's not going to back down, but he does need a different strategy!
A chuckle came from the darker male at how easily the other was sent backwards, and he felt like he knew right then and there how this spar was going to turn out. This hardly constituted as practice for Roscoe. This little punk thought he was going to stick around, huh? Well. Roscoe would put an end to /that/ line of thinking quick, fast, and in a hurry. Seeing an opportunity when Chanson attempts a distangle of their antlers, the larger buck flexes his strong neck and pulls down towards the side, in an attempt to twist junior's neck. Strong legs hold the heavier weight of the Prince steadily on the ground, and as he's still pulling down on the youngster's neck, he jabs the pronged brow-tines as best he can at Chanson as well. If only he could just twist his head right off.. that'd show him.
"Okay okay o-HAAA!" Chanson blurts out as the tips of his antlers are yanked before he can get them to safety, tilting his head down and to the side at a very awkward angle so he doesn't just rip his antlers from his head. This is going downhill fast. He has to do something. As Roscoe's prongs swing up to meet him coming down, Chanson tries to rear up on his hind legs and pull away from the threatening points, and then push as much weight down as he could, pushing their antlers together again. If this didn't work... well, the fight was already short and embarrassing. If it didn't work, it'd just be over more than anything else.
Was that the voice of surrender? Not yet, it wasn't. Roscoe wasn't giving up on this yet. The little crap wanted a fight, and it was a fight he would get. Perhaps not to the death as in more serious battles between older, more dominance driven stags.. but he wouldn't walk away from here without a few memories of just what would happen if he crossed the lines again. Feeling through the tension of their antlers that Chanson was attempting to pull his body weight up, the heavier buck pushed himself forward roughly, in an attempt to push the other buck right out of the lock that their antlers were entwined in.
Surrender! Chanson was just trying to catch his breath! But when Roscoe bulls forward like the big enormity that he is, Chanson is very nearly overwhelmed... but then twists his neck at the last moment when Roscoe tries to jut his antlers right through and out of their lock, and allowing himself to fall down with his antlers still clacking against Roscoe's. At least this way, he isn't *completely* shown up. "Ow," he says as he lands on his side with a great thud, legs flailing as he tries to find purchase.
Success! That outta teach him to test the Prince again. He let up immediately after the other buck fell to the ground, offering no consolation or anything other than an aggressive snort and another threat of a charge if the other male didn't leave the territory immediately. It wasn't the land he was concerned about though.. it was the doe, /his/ doe, resting in the land. Chanson so much as looked at her again during the rut, and he'd get an even worse beating. This was nothing. He was lucky to get away without any permanent injuries. Red eyes amusedly watching the flailing limbs of the younger stag, his head tosses victoriously and he speaks up after the relatively short battle. "Once a nobody, always a nobody," he mocks arrogantly, and shakes off his pelt with little a care in the world. He won the battle, and was quite proud of himself. "If you don't want to embarass yourself like that again.. stay away from here."
Chanson's rage is re-ignited when he scrambles back to his hooves, his sides heaving and his breath coming in quick, gasping pants. Roscoe is no longer just a *rival*, oh no! This is something much more now. Are those even tears starting to well up in the younger male's eyes at the abuse? He shakes it off quickly. "This *isn't* over," he snorts as best he can, and it looks for all the world like he'll just charge at Roscoe again. If it weren't for the wrenching ache in his neck, or the big bruise that's sure to come on his side. He doesn't know how lucky he is to not be bleeding right now. "You aren't gonna chase me away with bruises and... and words! This season's only just started, you hear me, you... fat jerk!" And with that and a toss of his head he turns away. Nobody now, victor by the end of the season. He'll show him a thing or two, if it takes the rest of his life here...
Cast
Roscoe - Male Whitetail Deer
Chanson - Male Whitetail Deer
Tix - Female Whitetail Deer
Setting
Old Chestnut Tree
-----
Over the past few weeks a strange change has come over Chanson. He's been feeling a little more aggressive, a little more rambunctious... a little more *dangerous.* Okay, well, he's probably not deadly or anything, least of all to larger animals like Roscoe and Niabi, but he's been putting himself out there, sniffing about and treating the other buck with some healthy distance in case he decided to start the rutting season early. Scratching antlers on trees and generally trying to make himself look bigger, fluffier, and more... well, attractive! It's what he's *supposed* to do, right? He has no wish to cross antlers with Roscoe, still wary of him, but... if it's what must be done. He has to make a good show of it at least. But of course, he must first find an opponent worthy of his mediocre skills.
Having been at the mercy of Roscoe's irritated moods with the antler-rubbing and general hormonal changes, Tix found it a nice pleasant change to leave the stag behind and venture out a little about the Glade. Just for some peace and quiet! She wasn't going to run off this time and she had been quite firm on that. As the female Whitetail approached the old Tree, she made sure to avoid the holes and dens, keeping to one side where she could graze peacefully. There was still no sign of her winter coat beginning to peek through, but aside from this she looked to be healthy and alert. She had made it obvious to Roscoe that she was here, so if he chose to follow her, it would barely take him much time. Relaxing in the shade of the Chestnut tree, the doe continues to eat her fill without paying much interest to what was occuring around her.
It actually didn't suprise Roscoe at all when he had walked back through the glade, and Tix's scent had faded slighlty. Obviously, she wasn't there. She'd been in a roaming sort of mood these days it seemed, but her scent wasn't far gone. It still lingered, and that meant to him that she hadn't been gone too long. But what with the rut setting in sooner and sooner, it concerned him a bit that perhaps she might run into a stray male somewhere else. Large ears swivelled backwards and his eyes narrowed onto a trail that he would follow in order to find her, his pace quickening as his frustration built. Keeping her locked up in the glade really wasn't his intention, but did she have to wander around so much? Trotting through the forest, the familiar form of the large chestnut tree loomed overhead and her scent was stronger here. Cloven hooves stepped over the large, tangled roots of the tree quietly and his head lowered at the sight of the smaller doe resting. A sigh of relief was breathed, and he slowly a
approached her, almost not wanting to be noticed.
Chanson has never been to this part of the forest, but he does notice another scent he's only smelt from a distance. A female! What fortuitous fortune! Oh, wait... his keen ears pick up something else coming nearby. It must be him. Oh, great, just who he *didn't* want to see around this time of the year. Well, he had decided to not *deliberately* ignore the other male, so there's nothing for it but to keep going towards him and the newcomer, adroitly keeping his antlers from tangling on the undergrowth as he approaches the ominous tree, trying to be a little louder than normal so he doesn't have to announce his presence with a thunderous shout or anything.
Tix is quite content to have Roscoe follow her, but as planned, she seems not to notice him when he finally does catch up. Instead, her attention is focused on the sweet blades of grass. Delicious! Of course, it doesn't take much for the female's attention to be drawn away from her meal as the sound of cracking twigs underfoot catches Tix's attention. Reflexes kick in and the doe's head shoots up, ears perked towards the sound of the noise. Remaining still and listening, the lack of wind makes the scent of Chanson's approach all too obvious. And naturally, having not scented another male before, Tix is instantly curious. She makes no frantic dash towards the source but she does begin to slowly move in the younger male's direction, wanting to discover who had approached.
As soon as the doe's head shoots up from her relaxed grazing position, Roscoe's head follows suit and the scent of the other buck, Chanson, wafts through his nostrils. Instantly a dangerous scowl forms on his face, and the rather aggressive male dashes in front of Tix, blocking her path. Like hell if he was going to even let her meet this other male. Though she wasn't an object, Tix was /his/ doe. This whelp would have a lot of angry Roscoe to go through if he'd even thought about what he knew what all young bucks thought about at this time of year. The Prince's ears shoot back in aggression, his eyes meeting Tix's with a fire to them, though his tone towards the female is not aggressive. "It's nothing, Tix," he said gruffly, and glared back in the direction of the other buck's scent.
Nothing! Is *that* all he has to say about him! Instantly all those encouraging words from Niabi evaporate in the face of indignant anger. Chanson decides that Roscoe is going to get a piece of his mind when he finally sees him... though upon actually seeing him, he starts to wilt a little bit, until his flaming anger is more of a simmer. "Hello," he says tersely, glancing between him and the female as he stops a respectable distance away. Almost right away he can tell that "civil" conversation is not going to be very likely here. "Uh... nice tree to graze under."
It's typical that Roscoe decides to show up when the female was just about to find something interesting! Although startled by his sudden appearance and dismissal of the noise, Tix simply isn't convinced like that. "Nothing? Then I can take a look?" She makes an attempt to step around the stag, when the other pops into view. For a moment it seems like Tix has had a bucket of cold water splashed in her face, as she stares at Chanson. For a moment she can't quiet believe that she's seeing another -male- Whitetail! Oblivious to Roscoe at the time, Tix tilts her head and blinks, recalling to memory the name Roscoe had given her. "Chanson?" She asks quietly, paying no attention to his remark about trees and grazing.
Ohh, if whitetails could growl. However, the buck feels a rumble in his throat just out of pure, hormonal driven /rage/ that this other male would bother to show up now, of all times, and at a spot where he and /his/ doe were relaxing. Well. She was relaxing, he'd only come here to collect her. Good thing he had, too. Otherwise, this snivelling youngster would've tried something.. he was sure of it. A gruff sound comes from Roscoe again as he stands once again, aggressively in front of Tix. Perhaps his aggression was misplaced, as he was showing a good deal to the doe as well, by keeping her behind him by force. "I /said/ it's nothing.." he said in a dangerous tone, his head turning sharply to Chanson, a fighting look to his eyes. Those ears pinned against his head, his head held lower than usual in a display of his dominance. "Get.. out." he gave him one warning. There were no civil communications between bucks during this time of the year, even if this was only the pre-rut.
"A-yup... that's my name," Chanson answers the doe, desperately wanting to get to know her at least (her name for starters) since he hasn't seen one for a long, long time. But there's the problem of the antler-murderer right over there. And this, to Chanson, is going too far, even for a pre-rut. Whether or not they *had* to fight, he wasn't going to be treated like a nobody, especially not by some snooty, jumped-up Prince! If he wants a fight, he'll get one for sure, rar rar... "This 'nothing' would rather stick around..." he says through gritted teeth. "Like I said... a nice place to graze."
Tix seems genuinely surprised by the reply and tone of voice. He seemed younger than Roscoe, and so much different personality-wise! Of course, Roscoe isn't going to let her investigate, is he? She flattens her ears back, a little annoyed and stomps a hoof against the soil. Is he overreacting? "A pleasure to meet you." The doe calls over Roscoe's back, hoping at least a conversation isn't going to lead anywhere bad. She would have offered her name, but she felt that perhaps that may have gone a tad too far at this point. Drawing back slightly Tix moves aside to begin grazing again, as if paying no interest in the quarrels of males.
The very brief conversation between the two does just enough to frustrate the overly aggressive Prince. So much so that he turns back around to face Tix, and glares down at her, as if warning her not to speak to the other buck again. Stretching out his front limbs conspicuously, Roscoe shakes his head from side to side and lowers his head further. "Nobodies like you aren't welcome here," he says threateningly, and juts his sharp tines towards Chanson in a final attempt at a warning. "Find someplace else." Well experienced in sparring, Roscoe had size, age, and ego over the younger male. His weakness however was that he hadn't fought against another buck in well over a year, and those had been practice runs before his father's death. Still, he obviously wasn't afraid of any competition.
Scared or not, Chanson is going to provide whatever competition his body can muster. He hardly even cares about the doe anymore... he just wants to take this guy down a peg! And *then* rub his nose in it that his girl wants to talk to *him* instead. "Nobody? *Nobody?*" Chanson snaps, his body beginning to shake. He didn't come this far just to get ridiculed, to be ignored all over again. "Is that how it's going to be? I come all this way just to be another nobody?! Well fine then! Get prepared to be *beaten* by a nobody!" He shakes his head wildly and stomps the ground, flaring his nostrils and making the first move, hopping towards Roscoe with a leaping thrust.
At this point, the Princed doesn't even bother to dignify the lesser buck with speech. Instead, he merely stands his ground and waits for the younger male to do something stupid, like all inexperienced, hormone-hyped youngin's like this one. He was no different from the brother stags that'd left the bachelor group his father built back in the cold lands. Brash, stubborn, and stupid. His heavy body planted in the ground, the larger whitetail's head lowers into a defensive stance as he readies himself for the clash of their antlers. It comes with a good deal of force from the other male, but Roscoe is larger and therefore can take the hit with little difficulty. Pushing himself forward and thrusting his sharp antlers in any angle that'd threaten the safety of Chanson, the darker male pushes against the competition viciously, and with little regard for his well being. The less bucks at this time, the better.
Oh snap! Chanson forgot he doesn't actually have a chance of winning! Well, too late now... and his brain isn't exactly thinking straight. Its' whupping time! Almost instantly he's overborne by the shoving weight of the larger male, retreating backwards so he can absorb some of the blow of just getting bowled over by it, muscles bulging as he flexes to escape the seeking tips of Roscoe's antlers. Is he insane?! Chanson tries to disentangle his antlers so he can seek a position that doesn't have him battering himself senseless on a rock of a skull like Roscoe's... and any humor from insulting his head is lost on the young buck as he realizes the error of his ways. He's not going to back down, but he does need a different strategy!
A chuckle came from the darker male at how easily the other was sent backwards, and he felt like he knew right then and there how this spar was going to turn out. This hardly constituted as practice for Roscoe. This little punk thought he was going to stick around, huh? Well. Roscoe would put an end to /that/ line of thinking quick, fast, and in a hurry. Seeing an opportunity when Chanson attempts a distangle of their antlers, the larger buck flexes his strong neck and pulls down towards the side, in an attempt to twist junior's neck. Strong legs hold the heavier weight of the Prince steadily on the ground, and as he's still pulling down on the youngster's neck, he jabs the pronged brow-tines as best he can at Chanson as well. If only he could just twist his head right off.. that'd show him.
"Okay okay o-HAAA!" Chanson blurts out as the tips of his antlers are yanked before he can get them to safety, tilting his head down and to the side at a very awkward angle so he doesn't just rip his antlers from his head. This is going downhill fast. He has to do something. As Roscoe's prongs swing up to meet him coming down, Chanson tries to rear up on his hind legs and pull away from the threatening points, and then push as much weight down as he could, pushing their antlers together again. If this didn't work... well, the fight was already short and embarrassing. If it didn't work, it'd just be over more than anything else.
Was that the voice of surrender? Not yet, it wasn't. Roscoe wasn't giving up on this yet. The little crap wanted a fight, and it was a fight he would get. Perhaps not to the death as in more serious battles between older, more dominance driven stags.. but he wouldn't walk away from here without a few memories of just what would happen if he crossed the lines again. Feeling through the tension of their antlers that Chanson was attempting to pull his body weight up, the heavier buck pushed himself forward roughly, in an attempt to push the other buck right out of the lock that their antlers were entwined in.
Surrender! Chanson was just trying to catch his breath! But when Roscoe bulls forward like the big enormity that he is, Chanson is very nearly overwhelmed... but then twists his neck at the last moment when Roscoe tries to jut his antlers right through and out of their lock, and allowing himself to fall down with his antlers still clacking against Roscoe's. At least this way, he isn't *completely* shown up. "Ow," he says as he lands on his side with a great thud, legs flailing as he tries to find purchase.
Success! That outta teach him to test the Prince again. He let up immediately after the other buck fell to the ground, offering no consolation or anything other than an aggressive snort and another threat of a charge if the other male didn't leave the territory immediately. It wasn't the land he was concerned about though.. it was the doe, /his/ doe, resting in the land. Chanson so much as looked at her again during the rut, and he'd get an even worse beating. This was nothing. He was lucky to get away without any permanent injuries. Red eyes amusedly watching the flailing limbs of the younger stag, his head tosses victoriously and he speaks up after the relatively short battle. "Once a nobody, always a nobody," he mocks arrogantly, and shakes off his pelt with little a care in the world. He won the battle, and was quite proud of himself. "If you don't want to embarass yourself like that again.. stay away from here."
Chanson's rage is re-ignited when he scrambles back to his hooves, his sides heaving and his breath coming in quick, gasping pants. Roscoe is no longer just a *rival*, oh no! This is something much more now. Are those even tears starting to well up in the younger male's eyes at the abuse? He shakes it off quickly. "This *isn't* over," he snorts as best he can, and it looks for all the world like he'll just charge at Roscoe again. If it weren't for the wrenching ache in his neck, or the big bruise that's sure to come on his side. He doesn't know how lucky he is to not be bleeding right now. "You aren't gonna chase me away with bruises and... and words! This season's only just started, you hear me, you... fat jerk!" And with that and a toss of his head he turns away. Nobody now, victor by the end of the season. He'll show him a thing or two, if it takes the rest of his life here...