Post by Sohtoh on Dec 3, 2009 8:35:48 GMT -5
Starring:
Chanson - Male Whitetail Deer
Roscoe - Male Whitetail Deer
Setting:
Maple Glade
------------------------
What a night, what a night. Things haven't been going great, but haven't been going badly either. He has been keeping in touch with certain deers, which might make certain other deers very angry indeed. But what does he care... he's young, he's hot-blooded, and it's still "that time of year." So it's hard for him to think rational as he, coincidentally, wanders into territory marked by his arch-nemesis/quasi-drinking buddy.
Just another reason that Roscoe hates this season; the sun is up for far too long. Sure, it may protect his species against predators.. but, there aren't that many of his species around anyway, and if the ones who are still around could survive this long around here without the sun, then dammit, the whole Whitetail herd could. After glaring at the horizon for a good twenty minutes or so, the larger buck finally wandered back into one of the low spots of his glade, and let out a heavy sigh. Quiet, but heavy. These past few days have been exhausting. No word from Tix, who he's already concerned about due to her being just as pregnant as the other doe, Aspen.. who.. he's seen a lot of in the past few days. Odd. Imagine the buck's suprise when that familiar scent of the other male wafted through his nose. Large ears tucked back momentarily, but then he realized.. it's not the rut any more. There's no reason for hostility, and he'd promised Aspen that he'd calm his temper. However, that didn't mean that he had to greet Chanson. Not at all.
Chanson, however, does still seem to have vestiges of his goofy self-assurance from the previous couple seasons, and upon seeing Roscoe he reacts much as he did the first time they met: with an air of caution and quiet. "Oh... hi," he says quietly. "Roscoe. Looking... looking good." Thank goodness there's no reason to just charge right at each other anymore now. Well, he supposes they could find a reason, but he doesn't want to right now.
The sudden voice of Chanson throws him off. What he said throws the larger buck off even more. In fact, he even tilts his head to one side, observing the younger male awkwardly. A brow lowers, and he flicks his ears back, hearing all of the annoying birds finally retiring to their trees for the night. Good riddance. He blinks, and doesn't say anything back for a moment, wanting to just walk away. Hostility was measured in aggression, not in bad attitudes.. right? Wrong. Clearing his throat, he nods his head. "Thank you. Uh. You too." He pauses, and thinks of what else to say.. "I ran into Aspen earlier, she's doing fine." Common courtesy to let Chanson know about his.. what was she, his mate? "Congratulations."
"Oh, you did? That's... nice." He coughs and shakes his head a bit. Aspen, Aspen... when was the last time he actually saw her? Not since... well, those few times he did see her. He coughs. "Congratulations? On what?"
Another blink is given, and his expression turns to that of exasperation. On what? He can't be serious, can he? With so little does in this area, can he really not know that Aspen is expecting a fawn? "Yes. She's quite tired lately.." he begins, and a smirk begins to form. If Chanson really doesn't know that Aspen is pregnant, it'd be even more humorous to draw the news out a bit. "Though, it's to be expecting. Pregnant does need their rest." A chuckle, and he shakes some of the finally loosening fur off of his back into a cloud just a few inches above his flesh, before it falls right back down on his reddening fur. "Congratulations on being a father-to-be."
Chanson nods, and keeps nodding, somewhat absently, as the explanation goes on. Yes, Asepn is very nice, isn't she? Pregnant? Hmm! Interesting. He looks at a few leaves and begins nibbling on them. "Mmm, well, thanks for the- wait, *what?!*" he blurts out, looking back and forth in a panic. "What! What! Me? What! That's... I! How did... I barely even remember... just that one time? Gah! What!" Immediately he starts to pace. Or rather, bounce around back and forth.
"You didn't honestly think that there weren't going to be .. uh, consequences?" he asks through another chuckle at the young male's reaction. He has to admit, it'd come as a shock to him as well if he'd gotten news that he was to be a father at Chanson's age. Actually, he's kind of proud of him in a .. weird, faux-father sort of way. But, he realizes how .. chummy he's getting, and clears his throat again, standing up straighter and clearing his face of expression once again. "It's a good thing, actually. And you should be happy. Not many bucks your age get to see a fawn of their own so soon."
Chanson looks back up at Roscoe, seemingly desperate for answers. Right now Roscoe is the only more experienced creature around who has slightly reliable information. "I... uh... wow. This is... holy cow. I knew I'd do it! But I didn't think... not right now!" He looks as if he's about to start hyperventilating. "Oh man... oh man... what do I do? What do I do? I'm the only dad around! My herd... well gee, my dad didn't even talk to me that much... Roscoe! You gotta help me. I've never done this before!" He prances forward, looking pleading and anxious. "I'm... gonna be a dad! I'm gonna... I'm gonna faint..."
The older male is undoubtedly amused at how Chanson is taking the news, but truth be told, he does feel a bit bad. He couldn't begin to imagine how nervous the poor guy must be. "Relax, Chanson." He says calmly, his voice rather monotonous, but calming at the same time, "Tix is expecting fawns as well." The older male can't help but grin a bit, unable to hold in his amusement anymore. "The does take care of the young. We're simply in charge of protecting them. Unlike them, we have no .. motherly instincts, obviously." Really, fathering fawns was infinitely easier than mothering them. The mention of Chanson's father made him frown a bit though, and he couldn't help but wonder why his own father wouldn't talk to him. Perhaps Roscoe was just lucky? His father was quite literally his mentor.. but then again, he was born to a lead buck in the herd back home. "Learn from your father's mistakes then, and treat the fawn well. You'll see, it's much easier than you think."
"Is it?" Chanson asks, looking a bit frentic in spite of Roscoe's reassurances. "I don't know. I know Aspen is going to do most of the caring for it, but... wow," he breathes heavily. "How... how *do* I treat it well?" he asks him intently, peering right at him. Roscoe, after all, never really cut a very impressive father figure to Chanson. What with all the insulting and all.
"Yes. It is." These few words are said quite curtly, as if offended at Chanson's further questioning of his advice. Then again, he could understand the young buck's nervousness. He too was nervous about the birth of his fawn, or fawns. The difference was that Roscoe was a professional at hiding his emotions from others. Flicking one ear back and clenching his jaw a bit, he wasn't quite sure how to answer the second question. It took him a moment of thinking, but he responded eventually. "Treat it the way that you wanted to be treated at that age." He assumed, and rolled his shoulders in the form of a shrug. "Were you upset with your father for not seeing him? Don't be that way. Make yourself available." He sounded like a therapist, and he didn't like it one bit. A fake cough was given, and his tail flicked in anxiousness to leave. Though, Roscoe had more manners than that at this time of year. The older male would patiently wait out any further questions, and /then/ leave.
Chanson nods slowly, accepting and filing away the advice. That sounds good. Just be there for him... well, that shouldn't be too hard at all, should it? "My dad was never really around," he admits. "Not that he had a lot of reason to pay attention to me, anyway. I don't even know what he was up to when I finally left." He glances off into the woods for a moment, reflective before rounding on Roscoe again. "Have *you* ever done this before?"
Though he hates to admit it, Roscoe is actually quite curious as to Chanson's relationship with his father, or about the other buck's last herd, for that matter. However, it would conflict with his current interests if he asked any further questions, and thus, he does not. He merely answers the other question that he asks. Flicking the one ear forward again, he shakes his head. "No, I have not." Was he looking forward to it? Yes. Would he be active in the fawns life? He would try. But not for a while. It would be Tix's responsibility to nurture him or her until it reached a certain age, and then Roscoe would intervene.
"Oh." Chanson seems a little miffed at that. So he's getting advice from someone who's never been a father? Well... he *is*, in some strange, odd way, a father *figure*, so he is grateful for the advice. "Well... it'll be interesting working alongside you then!" he says with a rather shaky smile. "I bet we'll learn quite a bit from each other." Like the fact that I can *beat* you, he chortles in his mind, but doesn't bring it up again. No reason to ruin what's sure to be a beautiful friendship.
Even though he had never been a father, he'd /had/ a father who was important in his life, and had learned a great deal from him. Lowering his eyelids a bit, Roscoe stared at the other buck, not amused by the tone that the 'oh' had to it. Ignoring it, he nodded his head gently and shifted his weight onto a different hoof. It'd been a long day, his legs were tired, and he'd been without significant rest for days before that. Needless to say, the dominant male was worn out. Actually, having a brief conversation with Chanson about their upcoming fawns was kind of relaxing. Hence why he hadn't simply excused himself yet. "Indeed." he said simply, his tone lowering as if to try and sound more dignified.
Not bothering to fakely return the smile, Roscoe merely raises a brow at Chanson when he mentions Tix, and nods his head. "She's quite elusive when not pregnant.. so I would assume that having to safeguard her belly has pushed her into even more remote areas than usual." In other words, he hasn't seen her either. Though he knows the competition of the rut is over, he would rather Chanson not even look at Tix for any reason whatsoever. It wasn't as if he sought out Aspen to speak with her. Being responsible for the herd, he had to make a point of looking for /everyone/, including Chanson on occasion. But, he didn't wish to talk with anyone, really. Perhaps he was just being too possessive, though. "I'm sure Aspen is fine. She's.." he stopped, looking for the right words. Stubborn? No. Bull-headed? No. "..strong-wiled."
"Yeah... you wouldn't know it from looking at her," Chanson says with a small, bashful raise of his front leg. Not that he knows her particularly well either, but still. "She *is* nice, I know that. Always good to talk to."
Talking about Aspen was something that Roscoe hadn't really planned on. He didn't know the doe well at all at this point. Didn't want to get to know her well at all, either. But that was just him thinking his usual, antisocial thoughts. A small smile did form, and he nodded again. "I'm sure she is." He said, and stopped abrubtly, deciding to carry the conversation on. "I'm very happy for you both."
"Thank you," Chanson says with a sincere dip of his head. "I'll tell her you said that," he adds with another smile. Does he ever *stop* smiling? Probably not. "You know, Roscoe, as much as you seem to not like me... I'm kinda glad I'm here. I really... would've been lost if I didn't find my way here. Where I've actually been able to start something."
The small smile that'd formed only widened at hearing Chanson's gratitude, and the Prince even chuckled a bit at the younger male's sincerity. "I don't dislike you at all, Chanson." he said, and took a step closer. The two of them had an odd bond.. if that's what it could be called. Either father-son, or brothers he was unsure of. Whichever it was, Roscoe stood at Chanson's side, and motioned his head forward, suggesting they keep moving through the glade. Perhaps it was time for them to learn more about each other? Nature would have it's way, and the two would travel together more often in the summer months anyway. "The hostility was due to the season. I want you to feel welcome and safe here, regardless of," he paused, and cleared his throat, "hormones. They get to us all during that time. We're just lucky there's only two of us."
Chanson is inwardly surprised that they're going on like this, and Roscoe hasn't found an excuse to leave yet. But he welcomes the opportunity to get to know his herd leader better and falls into stop. "Well, that... that's awful nice," he says quietly, remembering how Roscoe continually referred to him as a 'nothing' when they first met. He's still a *tiny* bit doubtful that wasn't *all* just the influence of hormones... "Heh, I suppose we should be lucky. If a third guy came along... well gee, that'd just mess everything up," he realizes. "You always seem to *like* being on your own, though."
The inward thoughts on Chanson's part were pretty dead on. The influx of hormones had been one reason for Roscoe's continual rerference to Chanson as a 'nothing,' but also that ..possessiveness he had been holding, and was still holding to an extent, on Tix. More than likely though, that feeling would fade in time as he got to trust the other buck more. Really, they knew next to nothing about one another. "Actually, I think that another buck would be nice, eventually. For the summers, anyway." His hooves fell against the ground slowly, at his usual pace. He never hurried unless there was an emergency, taking his time throughout all of his travels. This was perhaps why his visits were few and far between, some weeks. "I do like being on my own. Gives me time to think. Leading a herd is a lot of responsibility.. I don't have time to talk with everyone, even if I'd like to."
"Well you must do an awful lot of thinking," Chanson remarks, but without any maliciousness. There are only like five of them in the whole herd though... surely he can spare a few minutes at least? Like now? "I like to tell others what I'm thinking," he says quietly. "I just... I was in a large herd. But I never got to really talk to anyone, you know? Get to know them. It was always... go here. Eat some grass. Go fiddle with the other young bucks. Go to sleep. Do it all over again."
A grin formed again, and Roscoe glanced down at Chanson, then back toward the trail they were walking on. "I guess I do." He said, and indeed, he did do a lot of thinking. Too much, really. So much that he stressed himself out more than he needed. So was the life of a leader though, he figured. "That's the difference between us, I suppose." He said, but continued on. "I was in a large herd as well." The herd back in the cold lands had to have had somewhere around thirty deer at one point. At /least./ "I wasn't always this quiet. I was actually rather talkative when I was younger." What was this? Roscoe, opening up to someone? And /Chanson/, of anybody?
"That must have been something." Chanson hasn't the slightest idea what Roscoe could have been talking about all that time. He's sure to have lots to say in that head of his since he keeps it bottled up all the time. "Do you prefer things this way? Smaller, I mean?"
Having kept all of his thoughts and concerns to himself for such a long time, Roscoe has actually lost a sense of sociability, and he's perfectly content with that. Really, he didn't miss talking all that much. It made him seem less dignified somehow, he thought, and it probably wouldn't happen again for a good long time. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and spoke quieter. "No. I would prefer to have a slightly larger herd. Ten, fifteen of us.. that would be decent." Flicking his tail, he scoffed, and rolled his eyes. "Wishful thinking."
- SCENE PAUSED, TO BE CONTINUED -
Chanson - Male Whitetail Deer
Roscoe - Male Whitetail Deer
Setting:
Maple Glade
------------------------
What a night, what a night. Things haven't been going great, but haven't been going badly either. He has been keeping in touch with certain deers, which might make certain other deers very angry indeed. But what does he care... he's young, he's hot-blooded, and it's still "that time of year." So it's hard for him to think rational as he, coincidentally, wanders into territory marked by his arch-nemesis/quasi-drinking buddy.
Just another reason that Roscoe hates this season; the sun is up for far too long. Sure, it may protect his species against predators.. but, there aren't that many of his species around anyway, and if the ones who are still around could survive this long around here without the sun, then dammit, the whole Whitetail herd could. After glaring at the horizon for a good twenty minutes or so, the larger buck finally wandered back into one of the low spots of his glade, and let out a heavy sigh. Quiet, but heavy. These past few days have been exhausting. No word from Tix, who he's already concerned about due to her being just as pregnant as the other doe, Aspen.. who.. he's seen a lot of in the past few days. Odd. Imagine the buck's suprise when that familiar scent of the other male wafted through his nose. Large ears tucked back momentarily, but then he realized.. it's not the rut any more. There's no reason for hostility, and he'd promised Aspen that he'd calm his temper. However, that didn't mean that he had to greet Chanson. Not at all.
Chanson, however, does still seem to have vestiges of his goofy self-assurance from the previous couple seasons, and upon seeing Roscoe he reacts much as he did the first time they met: with an air of caution and quiet. "Oh... hi," he says quietly. "Roscoe. Looking... looking good." Thank goodness there's no reason to just charge right at each other anymore now. Well, he supposes they could find a reason, but he doesn't want to right now.
The sudden voice of Chanson throws him off. What he said throws the larger buck off even more. In fact, he even tilts his head to one side, observing the younger male awkwardly. A brow lowers, and he flicks his ears back, hearing all of the annoying birds finally retiring to their trees for the night. Good riddance. He blinks, and doesn't say anything back for a moment, wanting to just walk away. Hostility was measured in aggression, not in bad attitudes.. right? Wrong. Clearing his throat, he nods his head. "Thank you. Uh. You too." He pauses, and thinks of what else to say.. "I ran into Aspen earlier, she's doing fine." Common courtesy to let Chanson know about his.. what was she, his mate? "Congratulations."
"Oh, you did? That's... nice." He coughs and shakes his head a bit. Aspen, Aspen... when was the last time he actually saw her? Not since... well, those few times he did see her. He coughs. "Congratulations? On what?"
Another blink is given, and his expression turns to that of exasperation. On what? He can't be serious, can he? With so little does in this area, can he really not know that Aspen is expecting a fawn? "Yes. She's quite tired lately.." he begins, and a smirk begins to form. If Chanson really doesn't know that Aspen is pregnant, it'd be even more humorous to draw the news out a bit. "Though, it's to be expecting. Pregnant does need their rest." A chuckle, and he shakes some of the finally loosening fur off of his back into a cloud just a few inches above his flesh, before it falls right back down on his reddening fur. "Congratulations on being a father-to-be."
Chanson nods, and keeps nodding, somewhat absently, as the explanation goes on. Yes, Asepn is very nice, isn't she? Pregnant? Hmm! Interesting. He looks at a few leaves and begins nibbling on them. "Mmm, well, thanks for the- wait, *what?!*" he blurts out, looking back and forth in a panic. "What! What! Me? What! That's... I! How did... I barely even remember... just that one time? Gah! What!" Immediately he starts to pace. Or rather, bounce around back and forth.
"You didn't honestly think that there weren't going to be .. uh, consequences?" he asks through another chuckle at the young male's reaction. He has to admit, it'd come as a shock to him as well if he'd gotten news that he was to be a father at Chanson's age. Actually, he's kind of proud of him in a .. weird, faux-father sort of way. But, he realizes how .. chummy he's getting, and clears his throat again, standing up straighter and clearing his face of expression once again. "It's a good thing, actually. And you should be happy. Not many bucks your age get to see a fawn of their own so soon."
Chanson looks back up at Roscoe, seemingly desperate for answers. Right now Roscoe is the only more experienced creature around who has slightly reliable information. "I... uh... wow. This is... holy cow. I knew I'd do it! But I didn't think... not right now!" He looks as if he's about to start hyperventilating. "Oh man... oh man... what do I do? What do I do? I'm the only dad around! My herd... well gee, my dad didn't even talk to me that much... Roscoe! You gotta help me. I've never done this before!" He prances forward, looking pleading and anxious. "I'm... gonna be a dad! I'm gonna... I'm gonna faint..."
The older male is undoubtedly amused at how Chanson is taking the news, but truth be told, he does feel a bit bad. He couldn't begin to imagine how nervous the poor guy must be. "Relax, Chanson." He says calmly, his voice rather monotonous, but calming at the same time, "Tix is expecting fawns as well." The older male can't help but grin a bit, unable to hold in his amusement anymore. "The does take care of the young. We're simply in charge of protecting them. Unlike them, we have no .. motherly instincts, obviously." Really, fathering fawns was infinitely easier than mothering them. The mention of Chanson's father made him frown a bit though, and he couldn't help but wonder why his own father wouldn't talk to him. Perhaps Roscoe was just lucky? His father was quite literally his mentor.. but then again, he was born to a lead buck in the herd back home. "Learn from your father's mistakes then, and treat the fawn well. You'll see, it's much easier than you think."
"Is it?" Chanson asks, looking a bit frentic in spite of Roscoe's reassurances. "I don't know. I know Aspen is going to do most of the caring for it, but... wow," he breathes heavily. "How... how *do* I treat it well?" he asks him intently, peering right at him. Roscoe, after all, never really cut a very impressive father figure to Chanson. What with all the insulting and all.
"Yes. It is." These few words are said quite curtly, as if offended at Chanson's further questioning of his advice. Then again, he could understand the young buck's nervousness. He too was nervous about the birth of his fawn, or fawns. The difference was that Roscoe was a professional at hiding his emotions from others. Flicking one ear back and clenching his jaw a bit, he wasn't quite sure how to answer the second question. It took him a moment of thinking, but he responded eventually. "Treat it the way that you wanted to be treated at that age." He assumed, and rolled his shoulders in the form of a shrug. "Were you upset with your father for not seeing him? Don't be that way. Make yourself available." He sounded like a therapist, and he didn't like it one bit. A fake cough was given, and his tail flicked in anxiousness to leave. Though, Roscoe had more manners than that at this time of year. The older male would patiently wait out any further questions, and /then/ leave.
Chanson nods slowly, accepting and filing away the advice. That sounds good. Just be there for him... well, that shouldn't be too hard at all, should it? "My dad was never really around," he admits. "Not that he had a lot of reason to pay attention to me, anyway. I don't even know what he was up to when I finally left." He glances off into the woods for a moment, reflective before rounding on Roscoe again. "Have *you* ever done this before?"
Though he hates to admit it, Roscoe is actually quite curious as to Chanson's relationship with his father, or about the other buck's last herd, for that matter. However, it would conflict with his current interests if he asked any further questions, and thus, he does not. He merely answers the other question that he asks. Flicking the one ear forward again, he shakes his head. "No, I have not." Was he looking forward to it? Yes. Would he be active in the fawns life? He would try. But not for a while. It would be Tix's responsibility to nurture him or her until it reached a certain age, and then Roscoe would intervene.
"Oh." Chanson seems a little miffed at that. So he's getting advice from someone who's never been a father? Well... he *is*, in some strange, odd way, a father *figure*, so he is grateful for the advice. "Well... it'll be interesting working alongside you then!" he says with a rather shaky smile. "I bet we'll learn quite a bit from each other." Like the fact that I can *beat* you, he chortles in his mind, but doesn't bring it up again. No reason to ruin what's sure to be a beautiful friendship.
Even though he had never been a father, he'd /had/ a father who was important in his life, and had learned a great deal from him. Lowering his eyelids a bit, Roscoe stared at the other buck, not amused by the tone that the 'oh' had to it. Ignoring it, he nodded his head gently and shifted his weight onto a different hoof. It'd been a long day, his legs were tired, and he'd been without significant rest for days before that. Needless to say, the dominant male was worn out. Actually, having a brief conversation with Chanson about their upcoming fawns was kind of relaxing. Hence why he hadn't simply excused himself yet. "Indeed." he said simply, his tone lowering as if to try and sound more dignified.
Not bothering to fakely return the smile, Roscoe merely raises a brow at Chanson when he mentions Tix, and nods his head. "She's quite elusive when not pregnant.. so I would assume that having to safeguard her belly has pushed her into even more remote areas than usual." In other words, he hasn't seen her either. Though he knows the competition of the rut is over, he would rather Chanson not even look at Tix for any reason whatsoever. It wasn't as if he sought out Aspen to speak with her. Being responsible for the herd, he had to make a point of looking for /everyone/, including Chanson on occasion. But, he didn't wish to talk with anyone, really. Perhaps he was just being too possessive, though. "I'm sure Aspen is fine. She's.." he stopped, looking for the right words. Stubborn? No. Bull-headed? No. "..strong-wiled."
"Yeah... you wouldn't know it from looking at her," Chanson says with a small, bashful raise of his front leg. Not that he knows her particularly well either, but still. "She *is* nice, I know that. Always good to talk to."
Talking about Aspen was something that Roscoe hadn't really planned on. He didn't know the doe well at all at this point. Didn't want to get to know her well at all, either. But that was just him thinking his usual, antisocial thoughts. A small smile did form, and he nodded again. "I'm sure she is." He said, and stopped abrubtly, deciding to carry the conversation on. "I'm very happy for you both."
"Thank you," Chanson says with a sincere dip of his head. "I'll tell her you said that," he adds with another smile. Does he ever *stop* smiling? Probably not. "You know, Roscoe, as much as you seem to not like me... I'm kinda glad I'm here. I really... would've been lost if I didn't find my way here. Where I've actually been able to start something."
The small smile that'd formed only widened at hearing Chanson's gratitude, and the Prince even chuckled a bit at the younger male's sincerity. "I don't dislike you at all, Chanson." he said, and took a step closer. The two of them had an odd bond.. if that's what it could be called. Either father-son, or brothers he was unsure of. Whichever it was, Roscoe stood at Chanson's side, and motioned his head forward, suggesting they keep moving through the glade. Perhaps it was time for them to learn more about each other? Nature would have it's way, and the two would travel together more often in the summer months anyway. "The hostility was due to the season. I want you to feel welcome and safe here, regardless of," he paused, and cleared his throat, "hormones. They get to us all during that time. We're just lucky there's only two of us."
Chanson is inwardly surprised that they're going on like this, and Roscoe hasn't found an excuse to leave yet. But he welcomes the opportunity to get to know his herd leader better and falls into stop. "Well, that... that's awful nice," he says quietly, remembering how Roscoe continually referred to him as a 'nothing' when they first met. He's still a *tiny* bit doubtful that wasn't *all* just the influence of hormones... "Heh, I suppose we should be lucky. If a third guy came along... well gee, that'd just mess everything up," he realizes. "You always seem to *like* being on your own, though."
The inward thoughts on Chanson's part were pretty dead on. The influx of hormones had been one reason for Roscoe's continual rerference to Chanson as a 'nothing,' but also that ..possessiveness he had been holding, and was still holding to an extent, on Tix. More than likely though, that feeling would fade in time as he got to trust the other buck more. Really, they knew next to nothing about one another. "Actually, I think that another buck would be nice, eventually. For the summers, anyway." His hooves fell against the ground slowly, at his usual pace. He never hurried unless there was an emergency, taking his time throughout all of his travels. This was perhaps why his visits were few and far between, some weeks. "I do like being on my own. Gives me time to think. Leading a herd is a lot of responsibility.. I don't have time to talk with everyone, even if I'd like to."
"Well you must do an awful lot of thinking," Chanson remarks, but without any maliciousness. There are only like five of them in the whole herd though... surely he can spare a few minutes at least? Like now? "I like to tell others what I'm thinking," he says quietly. "I just... I was in a large herd. But I never got to really talk to anyone, you know? Get to know them. It was always... go here. Eat some grass. Go fiddle with the other young bucks. Go to sleep. Do it all over again."
A grin formed again, and Roscoe glanced down at Chanson, then back toward the trail they were walking on. "I guess I do." He said, and indeed, he did do a lot of thinking. Too much, really. So much that he stressed himself out more than he needed. So was the life of a leader though, he figured. "That's the difference between us, I suppose." He said, but continued on. "I was in a large herd as well." The herd back in the cold lands had to have had somewhere around thirty deer at one point. At /least./ "I wasn't always this quiet. I was actually rather talkative when I was younger." What was this? Roscoe, opening up to someone? And /Chanson/, of anybody?
"That must have been something." Chanson hasn't the slightest idea what Roscoe could have been talking about all that time. He's sure to have lots to say in that head of his since he keeps it bottled up all the time. "Do you prefer things this way? Smaller, I mean?"
Having kept all of his thoughts and concerns to himself for such a long time, Roscoe has actually lost a sense of sociability, and he's perfectly content with that. Really, he didn't miss talking all that much. It made him seem less dignified somehow, he thought, and it probably wouldn't happen again for a good long time. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and spoke quieter. "No. I would prefer to have a slightly larger herd. Ten, fifteen of us.. that would be decent." Flicking his tail, he scoffed, and rolled his eyes. "Wishful thinking."
- SCENE PAUSED, TO BE CONTINUED -