Post by Sohtoh on Jan 3, 2010 5:55:15 GMT -5
Starring:
Aspen - Female Whitetail Deer
Roscoe - Male Whitetail Deer
Setting:
Maple Glade
Note:
Another scene took place before this, with some of the fawns. But, I don't have all of the scene and it's not quite important to the plot, so yarr. That's why it just kinda.. jumps right in.
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Standing there silently, Roscoe can't help but feel as if the female is blatantly ignoring him. It doesn't bother him too much, as he does like his solitude.. but he doesn't exactly like being ignored. Clearing his throat, he moves one of his hind legs backwards, and turns to leave the comforting vantage point of the hill. There. Now, at least he would be noticed. Was it vain of him to want to be recognized? Perhaps. But was he not the leader of the herd? Didn't he deserve at least some acknowledgement? He thought so. Descending down the incline, his red eyes watched Aspen as she walked away, and he forced a grin that was there just for politeness of possible conversation. "Nice to see you too." This is said in a kind tone, as if some sort of lame joke.
Aspen continues on her merry way, her steps unhurried as she moves through the trees and foliage with her ears turned to the sides. But these ears soon twist further back, almost straining to turn completely backwards as Roscoe's voice drifts to them. A vague smirk graces her muzzle at his words, though the show of mirth disappears before she turns to regard him, watching as he moves down the incline. She's quiet for a brief while, watching the placement of his hooves as he moves, though gradually that almost coy smirk remains and she raises a brow as her eyes return to his face. "And now you know how it feels to be seen and yet disregarded," she says with a slight lifting of her chin, and though her words are chastising, her expression fails to be. In fact, she looks merely amused. "But you surprised me. I wagered with myself that you'd have me go without a word. So, I lose. Hello Roscoe. Is our fortune holding?"
In all honesty, he had expected the doe to continue on without regarding him. He'd done the same to her countless times, and though he might not've understood at the time what her cause for 'revenge' on him was, he would've understood to some extent. It was a pleasant suprise then, to hear her voice once he had spoken himself. Or, so he thought. The words were something he should've expected from Aspen. She'd always been kind of a stubborn one, or at least one to speak her mind. A frown appeared, and his large ears relaxed. It didn't matter, her expression. Her words cut him to the quick in a manner of speaking. In fact, he was silent for a moment afterward, simply looking at her with an expression of his own that couldn't really be described. Suprised, sad, apathetic.. it was strange. He chose to ignore her first sentence, wanting to avoid any arguments. "Yes.." he said, answering the only question that she had asked. "I suppose. None of the fawns are missing or injured yet, as you can tell." This is said with a hint of some kind of attitude, though the hint is minimal.
"Yet," echoes Aspen with a slight wrinkle of her nose. "You make it sound like it's impending. If that's the case, I aim to prove Fate wrong. I aim to keep an eye on those fawns, both my own and yours, to assure they all make it to be strong bucks and does," she says with resolve, gently stamping a hoof for emphasis. And speaking of fawns. She pauses momentarily, eyes averting in a moment of indecisive thought. They drift down and to the side, settling on a summer blossom that has taken root apart from the others. A single white flower. She has no idea what his feelings currently are for his son, but dancing around the topic can't last forever. And the time for dancing ends now, it seems, for as her eyes return back to him, they're accompanied with a smile. "I've finally met your son. What is his name? You might've told me, but...apparently remembering names isn't a strength of mine! He's .. very active. He seems strong."
"Of course it's impending." He says rather coldly, and finishes it off with a huff of breath, as if disgusted with the fact that she would deem it so improbable. "You can't honestly think that in these lands so full of wolves, dogs, cougars, ..bobcats, that our fawns are one hundred percent safe?" Shaking his head, the male flicks his tail and takes a sidestep away from Aspen. "It doesn't matter if you watch them, if Tix watches them, or if I watch them all day long.. sooner or later, a predator will catch their scent, and they will be a target." Apparently, Roscoe had woken up on the wrong side of the nest this morning. Moving further away, to the point where he wasn't even facing her anymore, he carrys on. "I will protect them, should anything happen.. when it does happen. Rest assured, it will. It always does." With a heavy intake of breath, the buck turns his head to glance back, but shows little interest in talking about his young, deformed son. "Hotah. His name is Hotah."
Geeze. What's gotten in to him? His initial answer, and the attitude that comes with it, has Aspen faintly quirking a brow at him, smile fading gradually until a look of indifference takes its place. She lets him say his piece. She doubt he'd have it any other way anyway, and thus she stands there patiently, not following as he moves off a ways. And she listens to every word he utters, despite the distance that now separates himself from her. .. Ah, that's the name. Hotah. She'll have to remember it this time, as she's sure she'll be seeing much of him now that he and the others are in one location. And then there's the female, which brings up a whole slew of questions, but they aren't questions that are initially asked. For now, once his words end, she allows a brief stretch of silence to ensue before she again speaks. "You are not a mother, and so I don't expect you to understand a mother's desire and will to see her children safe. I am no fool. I know the dangers. I know the risks. But I refuse to look at my children and condemn one or both of them to death just because you have seen it, or just because I have seen it. That is not my way of thinking, and I will not curse them by thinking that way."
/Something/ has certainly gotten into him. Odd, considering that he was in an uncharacteristically good mood not but a day before. But, something indeed has frustrated the leader, and it is shown in his temper that flares just a bit at Aspen's words. With his ears back, his brows lower as he looks back to her. "I am not condemning any of them!" He says this in a near yell, and takes a heavy step back toward the doe, as if she had really insulted him by saying that. But she hadn't. He was just being strange. "It's the way things are. Of course I want them to be safe, and I will do everything in my power to keep them safe.. but I will not sugar-coat the dangers in saying that something couldn't happen. It can. It does, every year." Exhaling deeply, the buck's eyelids lower half-way, the sudden burst of his temper apparently wearing him out. "Hotah.. he will attract much attention. It isn't his fault, but ..nonetheless, my own son could tear the herd apart just by being here with us.. endangering the other fawns, and us as well." A cruel thing to say, but it was said as nicely as he could put it, his tone worn out and somewhat depressed and thoughtful in it's manner. So, that was what was bothering him. It wasn't meant to be cruel, and he looks off to the sleeping form of his very visable son, and shakes his head.
Aspen's ears fall back at the shout, or near shout, given by the dominant male, and she winces back a little though holds her ground as stubbornly as she's known to be. She's almost grown used to not arguing with the male that she's forgotten just how much of a stubborn mule he could be as well! But angry? She knows not if she's ever ignited the spark of rage within him, and the flash of it that she sees now does send a tingling feel of nervousness down her spine though her gaze remains defiant. It's only when his words return to a more normal tone that she takes one step forward, a frown now tugging at her muzzle. "If one thing could tear apart this herd, it would not be Hotah," she says icily, voice laced with blame. But he is right. From where she is she could pinpoint the piebald's position whereas the others are more difficult to spot. Still, the fact of that doesn't change what she said. She moves now, giving him a wide berth as she moves back towards the heart of the glade, heading in the general direction of her own fawns. "Evening falls. The forest awaits its Prince," said in passing, eyes narrowed before they turn ahead.
One further spark of anger flashes within the Prince's eyes, and he glares down at the defiant doe as he continues to flick his tail in irritation. Had he the means to growl at her, he would. Taking a step forward, the lead buck has half a mind to send her on her way, and banish her from the glade or some such nonsense as that. He knows that it'd be a foolish decision though, and merely regards her with a look of contempt as she moves toward the fawns once again. With his ears pinned back, he follows after her gracefully, his anger not doing any harm to the way he always proudly carried himself. "Perhaps you're right." He says quietly, and stares down at her. "Fine then. Lets see how safe /you/ can keep the herd, hmm? Make no mistake about it, Aspen, something will come here for these fawns. It's just the nature of things. Since simple fact seems to offend you so much, then carry on without me." Had he lost his senses? Apparently so. An odd smirk found it's way to his muzzle, and he lifted his head in a snobbish manner, clearing his throat and looking toward the North.
"It is /not/" Aspen turns around with the word, glaring at the following buck, "simple fact. You wish it to be, for your own son. You wish it to be so much, you will /will/ it to be, won't you?" She takes no further step towards the fawns' resting area. Not with Roscoe following her and in this temperish bullying mood of his. She'll take no chances with her offspring. Besides, they're not /his/ offspring, and in his current state of mind who knows what he's capable of? "You want him to perish. You have no love for him, your own blood, do you? Your talk of something that will come here for these fawns means something that will come here for him, not them. You would watch him die and feel nothing." Her ears remain pinned back and head held at a slightly lower level, gazing cruelly at him like one would a predator. But as for his statement of her keeping the herd...she can decipher no meaning to that. But 'carry on without me' does. "That is a thing done every day, and yet somehow...I manage," said with a vague wrinkle of her nose. But she's still unsure. Not quite sure what he means or what intentions her may have. And so for now, she leaves it at that.
Oh.. now, he is angry. Very angry. With his ears pinning back once more, the furious buck does so much as to rear up onto his hindlegs, and snort a bit at her. There is no real /aggression/ there, but he certainly shows how frustrated he is with her. "How dare you insinuate something as.. as monstrous as that!" He yells, not even bothering to keep his voice down for the fawns. "To /want/ my own son's death?! Are you a complete fool?! Of course I don't want that.. but it doesn't change the fact that /predators will be here/ for the fawns! Not just for Hotah, but for all of them! Fawns are easy targets for the hunters, don't you understand?!" There's a hint of something that's hurt in his voice, but it's mostly just his rage pouring out in the fashion of yelling. As for his disappearance? It would happen, eventually. Since 'his' herd felt that they didn't need him, as they had shown through their various acts of disrespect and defiance toward his rule, the Prince would surely vanish within a day or so and leave them to their fate without regret. A scoff is given, and he laughs cruelly at he doe. "Only a simpleton such as yourself would believe that my travels left you in harms way. Yes, scouting the areas, familiarizing in order to know where the predators lie was /such/ an atrocity on my part. /Do/ forgive me."
Real aggression or just blowing off steam, it's still a bit intimidating to a doe. Even one such as Aspen. And so his rearing up has her stepping back quickly, muzzle parting and teeth baring in such a way that one could almost expect a hiss to be heard. But there's no sound, only the defensive look from a herbivore that's not really engineered to fight. "I don't believe you," she answers, voice low and laced with acid. "You speak of him like an inconvenience. He is your shame. A blazingly obvious sign of your shortcomings as a male." Now her words are spoken merely in spite. Roscoe's not the only one that's angry anymore. Who said words can never hurt you? Simpleton. Fool. Those words do hurt, though she'd not admit so to him or anyone else, and the only emotion that does rear its ugly head is anger. "You're right. Absolutely right. I will carry on without you. Who needs this? You tyrant! You ignorant jerk!" Only now does her voice raise, and she stops both front hooves down with each accusation that she makes. "Any buck would be better than you!" She walks stiff-leggedly closer to him, eyes unusually bright. "You are such an ass," hissed in a whisper.
That was all he needed. Nevermind the other members of the herd, in his angry assumptions, Roscoe could only lead himself to believe that everyone felt the same way that Aspen did. He wasn't wanted here. His distant nature had apparently warranted some ill feelings toward him, though he'd really never done anything /wrong/ as the leader. Competed with Chanson for females, but that was hormonally driven, and not spiteful in nature. He doesn't even bother to speak up this time, letting his expression fade into apathy with her words. It hurt; it really did. He couldn't even show his anger anymore, with how much her words stung. Knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and yet was being treated like a murderer for simply stating the likelihood of an attack. Nodding his head, he let out a sigh and turned around. Where would he go? Nowhere, really. There was nowhere /to/ go. Back home.. it was a long way, but he could make it before winter, if he tried hard enough. "You're right." He said somberly, sadly, all hints of anger and aggression gone as he realizes the decision that he's making can't really be un-done if he does go through with it. It won't be an immediate decision, but if he doesn't hear any opposition, he certainly will make good his escape from this area. Turning back to face her, he shakes his head. "I have failed the herd.
Ooh, this goes beyond his statement regarding the fawns. This goes back before fawns were even in the picture. Back to her own personal interactions with the haughty male. The apathetic male. The prideful male. The disregarding male. The lackluster male. On a better day she'd likely be able to appreciate what he has done for the herd, and from time to time she's tried to voice that though, in her eyes, has been met with one of the aforementioned faces of Roscoe. The rare good times with him are overshadowed by her current anger and frustration as all the bad come flooding back to her now. And thus her eyes remain glossy with unshed tears and her stance remains aggressive even as he seems to deflate before her. And those defeated sounding words? With her raging adrenaline, there's no real answer given other than that same cold look as before. But, once he turns to her again, her ears lift and brows furrow at his final statement. It is not her right to speak for the rest of them. The other does' opinions may differ greatly from her own. Though angry, she holds her tongue, not allowing herself to speak hastily though her gaze does not soften as she regards him. She does answer, eventually, and when she does she raises her head, expression and tone condescending. "You have failed me," she replies, the edges of her muzzle pulling down as she backs away from him.
Though his leave is just as full of pride as it usually is, the male is utterly defeated on the inside. Since his arrival in these lands, he has been met with nothing but hardships. The reason behind his appearance here was his father's death. His home herd's betrayal of their rightful leader. His long, tiring journey was met with obstacles of it's own. Upon arriving here, he found little more than predatory lurkings. What little he had found in a herd had grown to view him as a tyrant, though he still couldn't quite imagine how /that/ happened. With his eyes focused on the land ahead, he didn't appear to be half as broken as he was internally. On the inside, the poor male was a real mess. He hadn't meant for this to happen. The buck's words were meant as a friendly, if not foreboding warning of the dangers that lay in wait for all members of the herd. Hotah was not the subject of his shame. He had accepted the young piebald as his son, and had apologized to Tix. This had not crossed Aspen's mind, apparently. The doe's words had really hit a nerve though, and everything seemed to jumble together in an unfortunate clue to Roscoe. With one final glance back, the Prince forces some glimpse of a smile. "I had hoped for things to turn out.. better between us, Aspen." He said quietly, and took in another deep breath. "I'm sorry that I've failed you, and the herd. I will leave." A moment of quiet, and then the buck turns to leave the glade for perhaps the last time.
He had hoped for things to turn out better between them? Aspen could almost laugh at that. Almost. But there is no humor on her face as she answers him with an unfinished, "That's funny." Why unfinished? She shared the same sentiment. She wanted things to be better, and she spoke that exact same thing not very long ago, albeit not to him. 'That's funny. So did I.' is what it should've been, but the latter phrase is left unsaid and her brows just slightly furrow at his final words. Leave... To where? For how long? And yet, these too are left unasked for she quickly realizes that she does not care to know the answer to either. And so in the silence that stretches, she gives him a silent look of indifference, and it lingers as he turns to head off as he has many times before. It looks...normal. Lacking flair. As if he's merely moving off to check some perimeter of the forest. Perhaps that is why she seems so unmoved, as all this seems so perfectly normal and everyday...sans the shouting. It's with a snorted exhale that she finally turns, releasing some of the tension in her muscle to join her fawns, laying near them. The repercussions of this? She doesn't know. The reaction of the others? She couldn't know. Has he truly left for good? Who knows. All is left in the hands of Fate now, and she lowers her head putting the weight of it all to that deity. Her eyes slide shut, and the process allows a single tear from each eye to break free and dampen her fur as it rolls down her cheek.
Aspen - Female Whitetail Deer
Roscoe - Male Whitetail Deer
Setting:
Maple Glade
Note:
Another scene took place before this, with some of the fawns. But, I don't have all of the scene and it's not quite important to the plot, so yarr. That's why it just kinda.. jumps right in.
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Standing there silently, Roscoe can't help but feel as if the female is blatantly ignoring him. It doesn't bother him too much, as he does like his solitude.. but he doesn't exactly like being ignored. Clearing his throat, he moves one of his hind legs backwards, and turns to leave the comforting vantage point of the hill. There. Now, at least he would be noticed. Was it vain of him to want to be recognized? Perhaps. But was he not the leader of the herd? Didn't he deserve at least some acknowledgement? He thought so. Descending down the incline, his red eyes watched Aspen as she walked away, and he forced a grin that was there just for politeness of possible conversation. "Nice to see you too." This is said in a kind tone, as if some sort of lame joke.
Aspen continues on her merry way, her steps unhurried as she moves through the trees and foliage with her ears turned to the sides. But these ears soon twist further back, almost straining to turn completely backwards as Roscoe's voice drifts to them. A vague smirk graces her muzzle at his words, though the show of mirth disappears before she turns to regard him, watching as he moves down the incline. She's quiet for a brief while, watching the placement of his hooves as he moves, though gradually that almost coy smirk remains and she raises a brow as her eyes return to his face. "And now you know how it feels to be seen and yet disregarded," she says with a slight lifting of her chin, and though her words are chastising, her expression fails to be. In fact, she looks merely amused. "But you surprised me. I wagered with myself that you'd have me go without a word. So, I lose. Hello Roscoe. Is our fortune holding?"
In all honesty, he had expected the doe to continue on without regarding him. He'd done the same to her countless times, and though he might not've understood at the time what her cause for 'revenge' on him was, he would've understood to some extent. It was a pleasant suprise then, to hear her voice once he had spoken himself. Or, so he thought. The words were something he should've expected from Aspen. She'd always been kind of a stubborn one, or at least one to speak her mind. A frown appeared, and his large ears relaxed. It didn't matter, her expression. Her words cut him to the quick in a manner of speaking. In fact, he was silent for a moment afterward, simply looking at her with an expression of his own that couldn't really be described. Suprised, sad, apathetic.. it was strange. He chose to ignore her first sentence, wanting to avoid any arguments. "Yes.." he said, answering the only question that she had asked. "I suppose. None of the fawns are missing or injured yet, as you can tell." This is said with a hint of some kind of attitude, though the hint is minimal.
"Yet," echoes Aspen with a slight wrinkle of her nose. "You make it sound like it's impending. If that's the case, I aim to prove Fate wrong. I aim to keep an eye on those fawns, both my own and yours, to assure they all make it to be strong bucks and does," she says with resolve, gently stamping a hoof for emphasis. And speaking of fawns. She pauses momentarily, eyes averting in a moment of indecisive thought. They drift down and to the side, settling on a summer blossom that has taken root apart from the others. A single white flower. She has no idea what his feelings currently are for his son, but dancing around the topic can't last forever. And the time for dancing ends now, it seems, for as her eyes return back to him, they're accompanied with a smile. "I've finally met your son. What is his name? You might've told me, but...apparently remembering names isn't a strength of mine! He's .. very active. He seems strong."
"Of course it's impending." He says rather coldly, and finishes it off with a huff of breath, as if disgusted with the fact that she would deem it so improbable. "You can't honestly think that in these lands so full of wolves, dogs, cougars, ..bobcats, that our fawns are one hundred percent safe?" Shaking his head, the male flicks his tail and takes a sidestep away from Aspen. "It doesn't matter if you watch them, if Tix watches them, or if I watch them all day long.. sooner or later, a predator will catch their scent, and they will be a target." Apparently, Roscoe had woken up on the wrong side of the nest this morning. Moving further away, to the point where he wasn't even facing her anymore, he carrys on. "I will protect them, should anything happen.. when it does happen. Rest assured, it will. It always does." With a heavy intake of breath, the buck turns his head to glance back, but shows little interest in talking about his young, deformed son. "Hotah. His name is Hotah."
Geeze. What's gotten in to him? His initial answer, and the attitude that comes with it, has Aspen faintly quirking a brow at him, smile fading gradually until a look of indifference takes its place. She lets him say his piece. She doubt he'd have it any other way anyway, and thus she stands there patiently, not following as he moves off a ways. And she listens to every word he utters, despite the distance that now separates himself from her. .. Ah, that's the name. Hotah. She'll have to remember it this time, as she's sure she'll be seeing much of him now that he and the others are in one location. And then there's the female, which brings up a whole slew of questions, but they aren't questions that are initially asked. For now, once his words end, she allows a brief stretch of silence to ensue before she again speaks. "You are not a mother, and so I don't expect you to understand a mother's desire and will to see her children safe. I am no fool. I know the dangers. I know the risks. But I refuse to look at my children and condemn one or both of them to death just because you have seen it, or just because I have seen it. That is not my way of thinking, and I will not curse them by thinking that way."
/Something/ has certainly gotten into him. Odd, considering that he was in an uncharacteristically good mood not but a day before. But, something indeed has frustrated the leader, and it is shown in his temper that flares just a bit at Aspen's words. With his ears back, his brows lower as he looks back to her. "I am not condemning any of them!" He says this in a near yell, and takes a heavy step back toward the doe, as if she had really insulted him by saying that. But she hadn't. He was just being strange. "It's the way things are. Of course I want them to be safe, and I will do everything in my power to keep them safe.. but I will not sugar-coat the dangers in saying that something couldn't happen. It can. It does, every year." Exhaling deeply, the buck's eyelids lower half-way, the sudden burst of his temper apparently wearing him out. "Hotah.. he will attract much attention. It isn't his fault, but ..nonetheless, my own son could tear the herd apart just by being here with us.. endangering the other fawns, and us as well." A cruel thing to say, but it was said as nicely as he could put it, his tone worn out and somewhat depressed and thoughtful in it's manner. So, that was what was bothering him. It wasn't meant to be cruel, and he looks off to the sleeping form of his very visable son, and shakes his head.
Aspen's ears fall back at the shout, or near shout, given by the dominant male, and she winces back a little though holds her ground as stubbornly as she's known to be. She's almost grown used to not arguing with the male that she's forgotten just how much of a stubborn mule he could be as well! But angry? She knows not if she's ever ignited the spark of rage within him, and the flash of it that she sees now does send a tingling feel of nervousness down her spine though her gaze remains defiant. It's only when his words return to a more normal tone that she takes one step forward, a frown now tugging at her muzzle. "If one thing could tear apart this herd, it would not be Hotah," she says icily, voice laced with blame. But he is right. From where she is she could pinpoint the piebald's position whereas the others are more difficult to spot. Still, the fact of that doesn't change what she said. She moves now, giving him a wide berth as she moves back towards the heart of the glade, heading in the general direction of her own fawns. "Evening falls. The forest awaits its Prince," said in passing, eyes narrowed before they turn ahead.
One further spark of anger flashes within the Prince's eyes, and he glares down at the defiant doe as he continues to flick his tail in irritation. Had he the means to growl at her, he would. Taking a step forward, the lead buck has half a mind to send her on her way, and banish her from the glade or some such nonsense as that. He knows that it'd be a foolish decision though, and merely regards her with a look of contempt as she moves toward the fawns once again. With his ears pinned back, he follows after her gracefully, his anger not doing any harm to the way he always proudly carried himself. "Perhaps you're right." He says quietly, and stares down at her. "Fine then. Lets see how safe /you/ can keep the herd, hmm? Make no mistake about it, Aspen, something will come here for these fawns. It's just the nature of things. Since simple fact seems to offend you so much, then carry on without me." Had he lost his senses? Apparently so. An odd smirk found it's way to his muzzle, and he lifted his head in a snobbish manner, clearing his throat and looking toward the North.
"It is /not/" Aspen turns around with the word, glaring at the following buck, "simple fact. You wish it to be, for your own son. You wish it to be so much, you will /will/ it to be, won't you?" She takes no further step towards the fawns' resting area. Not with Roscoe following her and in this temperish bullying mood of his. She'll take no chances with her offspring. Besides, they're not /his/ offspring, and in his current state of mind who knows what he's capable of? "You want him to perish. You have no love for him, your own blood, do you? Your talk of something that will come here for these fawns means something that will come here for him, not them. You would watch him die and feel nothing." Her ears remain pinned back and head held at a slightly lower level, gazing cruelly at him like one would a predator. But as for his statement of her keeping the herd...she can decipher no meaning to that. But 'carry on without me' does. "That is a thing done every day, and yet somehow...I manage," said with a vague wrinkle of her nose. But she's still unsure. Not quite sure what he means or what intentions her may have. And so for now, she leaves it at that.
Oh.. now, he is angry. Very angry. With his ears pinning back once more, the furious buck does so much as to rear up onto his hindlegs, and snort a bit at her. There is no real /aggression/ there, but he certainly shows how frustrated he is with her. "How dare you insinuate something as.. as monstrous as that!" He yells, not even bothering to keep his voice down for the fawns. "To /want/ my own son's death?! Are you a complete fool?! Of course I don't want that.. but it doesn't change the fact that /predators will be here/ for the fawns! Not just for Hotah, but for all of them! Fawns are easy targets for the hunters, don't you understand?!" There's a hint of something that's hurt in his voice, but it's mostly just his rage pouring out in the fashion of yelling. As for his disappearance? It would happen, eventually. Since 'his' herd felt that they didn't need him, as they had shown through their various acts of disrespect and defiance toward his rule, the Prince would surely vanish within a day or so and leave them to their fate without regret. A scoff is given, and he laughs cruelly at he doe. "Only a simpleton such as yourself would believe that my travels left you in harms way. Yes, scouting the areas, familiarizing in order to know where the predators lie was /such/ an atrocity on my part. /Do/ forgive me."
Real aggression or just blowing off steam, it's still a bit intimidating to a doe. Even one such as Aspen. And so his rearing up has her stepping back quickly, muzzle parting and teeth baring in such a way that one could almost expect a hiss to be heard. But there's no sound, only the defensive look from a herbivore that's not really engineered to fight. "I don't believe you," she answers, voice low and laced with acid. "You speak of him like an inconvenience. He is your shame. A blazingly obvious sign of your shortcomings as a male." Now her words are spoken merely in spite. Roscoe's not the only one that's angry anymore. Who said words can never hurt you? Simpleton. Fool. Those words do hurt, though she'd not admit so to him or anyone else, and the only emotion that does rear its ugly head is anger. "You're right. Absolutely right. I will carry on without you. Who needs this? You tyrant! You ignorant jerk!" Only now does her voice raise, and she stops both front hooves down with each accusation that she makes. "Any buck would be better than you!" She walks stiff-leggedly closer to him, eyes unusually bright. "You are such an ass," hissed in a whisper.
That was all he needed. Nevermind the other members of the herd, in his angry assumptions, Roscoe could only lead himself to believe that everyone felt the same way that Aspen did. He wasn't wanted here. His distant nature had apparently warranted some ill feelings toward him, though he'd really never done anything /wrong/ as the leader. Competed with Chanson for females, but that was hormonally driven, and not spiteful in nature. He doesn't even bother to speak up this time, letting his expression fade into apathy with her words. It hurt; it really did. He couldn't even show his anger anymore, with how much her words stung. Knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and yet was being treated like a murderer for simply stating the likelihood of an attack. Nodding his head, he let out a sigh and turned around. Where would he go? Nowhere, really. There was nowhere /to/ go. Back home.. it was a long way, but he could make it before winter, if he tried hard enough. "You're right." He said somberly, sadly, all hints of anger and aggression gone as he realizes the decision that he's making can't really be un-done if he does go through with it. It won't be an immediate decision, but if he doesn't hear any opposition, he certainly will make good his escape from this area. Turning back to face her, he shakes his head. "I have failed the herd.
Ooh, this goes beyond his statement regarding the fawns. This goes back before fawns were even in the picture. Back to her own personal interactions with the haughty male. The apathetic male. The prideful male. The disregarding male. The lackluster male. On a better day she'd likely be able to appreciate what he has done for the herd, and from time to time she's tried to voice that though, in her eyes, has been met with one of the aforementioned faces of Roscoe. The rare good times with him are overshadowed by her current anger and frustration as all the bad come flooding back to her now. And thus her eyes remain glossy with unshed tears and her stance remains aggressive even as he seems to deflate before her. And those defeated sounding words? With her raging adrenaline, there's no real answer given other than that same cold look as before. But, once he turns to her again, her ears lift and brows furrow at his final statement. It is not her right to speak for the rest of them. The other does' opinions may differ greatly from her own. Though angry, she holds her tongue, not allowing herself to speak hastily though her gaze does not soften as she regards him. She does answer, eventually, and when she does she raises her head, expression and tone condescending. "You have failed me," she replies, the edges of her muzzle pulling down as she backs away from him.
Though his leave is just as full of pride as it usually is, the male is utterly defeated on the inside. Since his arrival in these lands, he has been met with nothing but hardships. The reason behind his appearance here was his father's death. His home herd's betrayal of their rightful leader. His long, tiring journey was met with obstacles of it's own. Upon arriving here, he found little more than predatory lurkings. What little he had found in a herd had grown to view him as a tyrant, though he still couldn't quite imagine how /that/ happened. With his eyes focused on the land ahead, he didn't appear to be half as broken as he was internally. On the inside, the poor male was a real mess. He hadn't meant for this to happen. The buck's words were meant as a friendly, if not foreboding warning of the dangers that lay in wait for all members of the herd. Hotah was not the subject of his shame. He had accepted the young piebald as his son, and had apologized to Tix. This had not crossed Aspen's mind, apparently. The doe's words had really hit a nerve though, and everything seemed to jumble together in an unfortunate clue to Roscoe. With one final glance back, the Prince forces some glimpse of a smile. "I had hoped for things to turn out.. better between us, Aspen." He said quietly, and took in another deep breath. "I'm sorry that I've failed you, and the herd. I will leave." A moment of quiet, and then the buck turns to leave the glade for perhaps the last time.
He had hoped for things to turn out better between them? Aspen could almost laugh at that. Almost. But there is no humor on her face as she answers him with an unfinished, "That's funny." Why unfinished? She shared the same sentiment. She wanted things to be better, and she spoke that exact same thing not very long ago, albeit not to him. 'That's funny. So did I.' is what it should've been, but the latter phrase is left unsaid and her brows just slightly furrow at his final words. Leave... To where? For how long? And yet, these too are left unasked for she quickly realizes that she does not care to know the answer to either. And so in the silence that stretches, she gives him a silent look of indifference, and it lingers as he turns to head off as he has many times before. It looks...normal. Lacking flair. As if he's merely moving off to check some perimeter of the forest. Perhaps that is why she seems so unmoved, as all this seems so perfectly normal and everyday...sans the shouting. It's with a snorted exhale that she finally turns, releasing some of the tension in her muscle to join her fawns, laying near them. The repercussions of this? She doesn't know. The reaction of the others? She couldn't know. Has he truly left for good? Who knows. All is left in the hands of Fate now, and she lowers her head putting the weight of it all to that deity. Her eyes slide shut, and the process allows a single tear from each eye to break free and dampen her fur as it rolls down her cheek.