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Featuring Vahlo and Nayeli .Fall, Year 768 of the New Age,
Just within the Glenwood.

Nayeli
As the leaves began to change from green to golden amber, so too came the time when fawnlings would begin to gather and fight for the right to does. So it was that Nayeli’s fifth year began and she attended her first rut.
To say she was nervous was an understatement. Princess Eden had been kind and supportive of her, and the filly loved her mistress even more for it. Lwenth had even fluffed over her before she left Lord Lorik’s princess glade, telling her that if she were lucky she might even be claimed by a Lord and her own children would be royal. If she had thought hard enough about it, Nel might have thought the grouchy old hoofmaiden even liked her.
Nayeli tried to breathe deeply as she and other fillies from glades near her own, stepped into the fighting glades. It wouldn’t be proper for her to panic! She’d embarrass her mistress!
No. This would be romantic. A handsome knight would come and sweep her off her feet. Bring her flowers and ply her with sweet words. Yes, that was how it would be. She would convince herself. Even still, as the other fillies chittered and giggled nearby about how they were off to find handsome strong husbands, Nel could not help but feel a pang of fear.

Vahlo
It was fall once again. The weather was beginning to chill and with it, the colors began to shift. Tempers began to simmer and flare and the pale stag found a simple, comfortable ease in just extricating himself from any hostile situation by avoiding his fellow fawns altogether. Even those few friends of his. He put distance between himself and them as, often, he had seen rut turn some of the kindest faces into the most brutal.
Does that slid past him in bundles of giggles and whispers made his gut tighten with unknown desires. Even if he wasn't quite sure why, he brain let his body know they were far more tantalizing than they had been in the years past and he had to set his jaw against the temptation their long, fluttering lashes and lithe, supple frames caused. Even the softest, accidental touch from one of them set the young stag’s blood on fire and he quickly decided it was just so much easier and he was far less unpredictable when he was alone.
Still, Glenmore was a big and layered herd that became slightly erratic with the start of rut. Areas once uninhabited or unfrequented were suddenly amass with groups of stags showing off or couples trying to find privacy within each other. All of Vahlo’s usual haunts were turning up haunted and he kept being chased away by over zealous stags looking for a fight.
Why? Why did this time of year have to turn everyone into monsters?
The pale stag ghosted through the Glenwood as quietly as possible, trying to remain nondescript. He succeeded for a short while too, at least, until he suddenly found the area around him thick with other fawns. Amidst a particularly large looking group, he paused to assess the new and unfavorable predicament he was in. They had formed a sort of arena and stags were grunting and straining in the center in a ‘glorious, display of power. They pushed against each other, heaving and sweating. Cursing and throwing insults which only increased their anger. Their fervor.
Yuck. What had he wandered into?
So this is what these large patches of people were that he so desperately(and apparently unsuccessfully) had been trying to avoid. Brawling matches. Something that, with his miniscule build, Vahlo would never do very well in. Then again - he’d never dream of challenging another stag for his chosen does. That just seemed so brutish.
A familiar giggle and a paleness he recognized drew his gaze abruptly towards one of the far off sidelines. His ears swiveled forward and he perked up, suddenly seeming excited by whom he saw. Nayeli? It had been a while! He turned to slip into the crowd, deciding he wanted to make his way towards her to say hi -- in the least. But he also knew he had to be careful and he kept that in the back of his mind as well.

Nayeli
“Well I heard my mistress say that only the greatest and most handsome stags win the pale does.”
Nayeli was only half listening to the fillies next to her as they gossiped with each other. Every so often they would flutter their eyelashes at the stags that fought each other in the centre of the arena. At one point Nel could have sworn she saw a very pale grey filly flutter her eyes at one stag, attract his attention and then flash her smile at another stag and catch his as well, only for them to end in a clash of antlers.
The creamy filly was aghast. For all it was exciting to watch the stags fight and test their mettle against each other; it was entirely reprehensible to pit them against each other!
Wistfully, Nel watched the stags slam their racks against each other. While she knew there could be violent, bloody, clashes, the guards seemed to be keeping them fairly well under control so that it was a test of strength without bloodshed. For that she was glad. She never really had liked the sight of blood.
They really were quite handsome. Sweat and musk filling the air. Muscles clenching and rippling under hides. It made her quiver with excitement, her fear mostly gone now, replaced with something else.
Most does caught the eyes of stags from across the glades and drew them in with heavy, seductive gazes. But Nel wasn't really sure she could do that. The fillies beside her giggled, dragging her back into the present.
On the other side of the glade she noticed a pale stag step into the arena and look like he wished he hadn’t. Nayeli giggled. Vahlo really was very silly. Her eyes travelled along his form. His coat might be an unattractive pale colour for a stag, and he might have been a little long legged, but his form was fit and lithe and his rack was slowly growing to be quite impressive.
Something stirred in her belly and her breath caught as his eyes flicked up and caught her gaze. She smiled shyly at him under her eyelashes and he returned it. He was actually quite handsome when he smiled.
“Why hello there.” The voice was deep, and smooth like chocolate and a dark pelted stag brushed up behind her.
Nayeli’s voice caught in her throat and she froze. Only turning her head to look up into glittering black eyes.
“Don't let just any stag touch you child! Do not let them get close to you unless you wish it!” Lwenth’s words whirled through Nayeli’s head as she stared in shock up at the stag that was pressing himself against her.
“H-h-hello.”

Vahlo
“You enjoying the show little love?” The dark stag purred, stooping some to where he was certain she’d be able to feel his breath roll over her withers and the base of her elegantly long neck. He knew he’d be pushing his luck if he pushed much further but, judging my the shock in those pale blue eyes, the little doeling didn’t know how to react.
Was she afraid? “Don’t be scared. I know a good thing when I see one.” His flattery was like velvet as it rolled off his tongue and he rubbed his cheek along her side with a low sound of needy bliss. The mixture of scents in this particular glade along with the mass of testosterone had the stag feeling bold and he glanced up at her through hooded lashes and grinned, “We should go find some place quiet. I can tell you haven’t done this before. Perhaps I can show you the ins and outs? We can have a good time together.” He pressed closer to her once more, as though trying to perhaps intimidate her? It was hard to tell. He was being pushy in an almost unobvious way and to a young and inexperienced doe, it could have appeared deceitfully like chivalry.
“Nayeli I-” The words died on Vahlo’s lips as he shouldered through the last of the fawns that stood between he and the younger doe. His gaze flitted in muted shock from the larger stag to the equally shocked doe in question and his brows seemed to furrow in unspoken question. The dark stag, however, jerked away from the small hind and placed himself between she and her friend, “Oh no Doe-Coat. You’re a little too late.” The dark stag spat at the pale stag, ears swinging back and his tail giving an irate flick at his rump.
“She is mine.”

Nayeli
Nayeli’s heart was beating furiously in her chest. Hammering against her ribs louder than a drum. The stag had just come out of nowhere and she didn't know what to do.
His words were sweet and honeyed but they made her uncomfortable. The arena felt like it was converging in on her and the air was thick around her face.
The dark stag pressed against her, as if to usher her towards the edges of the crowds and away from the arena. Panic was growing inside her. She didn't want this.
The creamy filly couldn't reply to the stag’s questions. She could only stand and quiver with anxiousness.
“Nayeli I…”
The hoofmaiden’s head whipped around to the source of the familiar voice.
Vahlo had pushed his way through the crowds to her and now stood there looking at her in confusion. The large bay stag firmly pushed himself between her and her friend and staked him claim.
Nayeli's heart dropped so low she thought she would cry. It was all over now. With more sadness than she had ever felt, Nel locked eyes with the pale coated stag.

“Vahlo.”

Vahlo
The cremello stag didn’t know what it was. Whether it was hormones or the heartbreaking look of sadness and panic that swam desperately in Nayeli’s eyes. Whatever it was, it surged something deep within the young stag and sang through his body in the form of blinding fury. Vahlo was often awkward with unfamiliar and negative feelings. They made him feel out of place and alien in his own body. But this burned a clarity so deeply into him that it was as though the rest of the world melted away and all that remained was he, Nayeli, and the stag in front of him.
‘She’s mine.’

It wasn’t the doe-coat comment that stung bitterly at him. It was his suddenly voiced claim. The finality in it was almost inarguable and the smug look on the darker stag’s face wound Vahlo up even tighter. Nayeli was scared. And this… brute was mistaking her silence as compliance. Submission, even. Even though her fear was palpable.

“No.” Vahlo’s own voice surprised him. There was a rumble to it he’d of never imagined would come from him. A whispering threat. And even the face of a much larger, far heavier foe, Vahlo felt suddenly unafraid. “You’ve terrified her. You are bullying her to get your way. And I won’t stand for it.” He added with a sudden stamp of a hoof. His head dropped fractionally and his ears swung back. A new intensity about him.
An intensity that the surrounding fawns around them seemed to register as a challenge since they seemed to part and extend the arena to once again include the two.
The dark stag’s eyes flickered wide before laughing. A loud guffaw of disbelief, “You weigh next to nothing! You are puny and built like a female! What hope could you have against me?! I’ve staked my claim over this doe. If you want to ‘protect’ her. Take her from me.” The larger stag’s voice tapered off into a deep growl and his head bowed lower still, a hoof raking dirt and debris up over his side as he huffed gruffly.
Vahlo was taller. By well over two hands and rut had fluffed the muscle along his shoulders and neck substantially. In comparison to his opponent however, he was dainty. Spindly limbs with little weight backing him. His rack, at seven, had width and long, dangerous tines but it was definitely not prime. The dark stag at his front had seen a few rounds. Girth and size backing a formidable rack. The cremello stag definitely had his work set out for him.

It was in those final moments he could have taken the moment to back down.

And in that moment, Vahlo suddenly squared his shoulders and hips and narrowed his eyes.

This stag was not going to take Nayeli. Not if she did not want him.
Not as long as he was standing.

Nayeli
The air was thick with anticipation. It was as if all those fawns around them drew a collective breath with her at the challenge issued between the two stags.
Nayeli couldn't believe what she was seeing. He wasn't...was he? Her eyes widened. He was!
“Vahlo!” This time the fear in her voice was evident as she called out to him. She could see how this would end. Her beautiful, lovely stag a pile on the ground covered in blood. She went to move towards Vahlo, to stop him, but the bay stag pushed her back away from him.
“Please!” It was only afterwards that she realised her pleas might have been misconstrued as calls for the cremello stag to save her, even though all she wanted in that moment was for him to leave and remain unharmed. It did not matter what happened to her. Only him.
But it was too late.

Vahlo
When the bay moved to push Nayeli back, the rage that simmered within the pale stag bubbled over. Her soft, frantic cries for him -- he couldn’t tell if it was because she was afraid of the stag now or the situation but nothing was stopping this. It had hit a rapid crescendo and it was only going to end in one way. One of them was not going to walk away from this.
With absolutely no warning and deciding he needed to throw himself into action before he lost his nerve, the cremello stag suddenly lurched forward. He dropped his head with a raw bellow and his cry was met by an equally furious roar from the other stag who lunged to meet him. They collided with enough force to echo - the clack of their antlers loud and devastatingly strained. The bay rippled with the collision and lost only the slightest amount of ground while Vahlo’s muscles corded tightly in effort.
The two were at a stand still for a moment, just braced against each other. But the bay once again was laughing. And then suddenly in motion. He threw his weight forward, drove his back legs into the earth and thrust himself forward. Vahlo’s hooves scrabbled over the earth in an attempt to not lose any ground but it was no use. As far as shear mass was concerned, the other male obviously had him beat. He would need to be smarter than this.
With a sudden jerk of the bay stag’s head, Vahlo found his world spinning as he was practically flung away from the other. He managed to only just fall to his knees before quickly recovering and spinning to face the bay and just in time as the bay immediately closed the distance between them with another crushing charge.

The weight of the bay stag’s antlers and his strength had Vahlo’s nose just barely above the ground. In particularly forceful pushes, the dirt infiltrated his lungs and burned through his esophagus but the lanky stag did not yield.
Another toss and Vahlo was on his side. There were a chorus of cheers around the ring. They were wanting him to lose. Why? Why would they choose this chauvinistic stag? This stag who would take away a doe’s rights just because he what? He felt like it? On a whim? Another surge of anger sang through the cremello stag and he was on his feet again before the bay had struck him. Even from his knees, they locked antlers and the bay’s standing advantage helped Vahlo to his feet. He pushed back, hard, anchoring his hooves into the earth with a shaky grunt as he resisted the bay’s next strong push.
Lashing out suddenly with front legs, Vahlo’s hooves struck meaty gold. They shredded through the bay stag’s left brow and the larger male swung his head back with a bellow and staggered. Vahlo took the opportunity and blindly drove forward.
The tines of his antlers seared painfully through the bay’s shoulder. Deeply.
The resounding cry of agony was followed by a short burst of rage as the bay dropped his head down suddenly and cracked his antlers down over Vahlo’s shoulders, dropping the cremello almost as quickly as he’d taken the advantage. Vahlo yelped and felt the immediate swell of pain spread through his bruised shoulder blades but it was the least of his worries when the bay descended with the rest of his weight -- and this time with the re-directed tines of his antlers. These sought easy purchase along his neck and back and the cremello stag found himself pinned and being brutally beaten. Bit. Cut into. Stomped on even.
He was trapped.
Again and again the bay struck out at him, holding him pinned beneath his antlers. Again and again the blows met paydirt and very obviously began to take their toll.
For what seemed like an eternity, Vahlo clenched his eyes closed and stifled his quiet cries of agony. Why weren’t the guards intervening? This wasn’t supposed to be a death match. Was it? Had he gotten to cocky? Had he simply made the mistake of assuming?
The blues of his gaze sought Nayeli for a moment and he found her blurred, pale shape fringing just on the outside of the arena. He wanted to apologize. He couldn’t save her. Perhaps, even, he’d made things worse for her. Would the bay be rougher with her now?
“...I’m..so..sorry.” He breathed, shuddering.
A triumphant laugh from above him drew the vicious blows to a halt and the weight suddenly lifted from him. He felt the bay spit, it’s wetness chilling against his withers and relief washed over him. It was over, he realized. But he’d lost.
The crowd cheered happily around them. Vahlo did not rise.

Nayeli
They cremello filly couldn't watch, but how could she look away?
The match was fearsome and many of those about the arena stopped and turned to watch Vahlo and the bay stag fight. She had never seen the cremello stag like this. His muscles trembled beneath his coat and his roars echoed about the clearing as loudly as the clack of his antlers against the bay stag’s.
It sent excited shivers down her spine even as much as she watched in horror at the damage they dealt each other.
For a moment, it even looked like her pale-coated stag would win out as the bay stag wheeled back in pain. But her hopes diminished as she realised it only served to make the bay stag even angrier and in no time at all, Vahlo as was prone in the dirt, just as she had envisioned.
Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes as he raised his head to her. A breathy apology on his lips. He need never apologise.
Nayeli stepped closer, her head low to the ground. She wished she could show him. Wished she could make him see how much he meant to her. How much she appreciated everything he had done. Everything he had tried to do. How much she -. Everything. She wished he knew everything.
The earth rustled beneath his nose, where it hovered in exhaustion just above the ground. Almost as if something was trying to push its way out. A green leaf. A tiny stem. And a single forget-me-not flower.
“Vahlo.”

Vahlo
The flower. It tickled his nose as it blossomed. It was wary as it sagged in front of him. Almost as wary as he felt. But when he seemed to realize it had come from Nayeli, he reached out to it gently. His magic curled around it. It seemed to regain some of its buoyancy. Then, another. The flower hissed softly as it bloomed beside Nayeli’s. And then another. Suddenly, they were popping up around him like popcorn - dappling the dull, fall-yellowed grasses with an immense amount of color.
The bay had started to limp leisurely towards Nayeli. His mouth was curled into an awful smug smile and his gazed at her like a predator would prey. He was so raptly focused on her, in fact, that he didn’t see the flowers that slowly had begun to creep towards the cremello doe. Flourishing gently at her feet in an almost perfect path from Vahlo to her.
The bay also wouldn’t notice the cremello’s sudden tremor as all of his energy shifted upwards and he coaxed his legs to hold his weight. They wobbled beneath him, almost as they had when he was a newborn. But he took a stand once more.
Around them, a quiet murmur and soft gasp seemed to finally catch the bay’s attention and he swung to slowly to see what the fuss was about.

He just wouldn’t give it up, would he?
The face on the cremello was amass with pain. But also with a renewed fire.
“You want more?!” The bay bellowed, sneering in the cremello’s general direction. “So be it!” The bay steadied his limp and tried to make a proud strut back in Vahlo’s direction. Vahlo who looked just about ready to collapse. Vahlo who sagged slightly in the weight of his injuries but somehow didn’t seem winded.
One more step and the bay was looming over him. One more step and the bay had dropped his head in preparation to charge. The flowers popping up beneath his feet went unnoticed. They continued to shift and whisper anxiously from him all the way to Nayeli.
His larger opponent struck the ground with a hoof and grunted, rippling as he steadied for his lunge. And then he lunged.
Vines, threaded with angry barbs, sprung from the ground faster than the stag could initially push off. They snared around his legs and pasterns. Lept up and wrapped around his antlers, forcing his head to the ground. The vines were tight and constricting as they ripped the bay stag’s legs out from under him and dropped him to an almost instant kneel, just as Vahlo straightened and limped towards the other male.
It was Vahlo’s turn to tower over the bay, gazing down at him with a snarl.
“She doesn’t belong to you.” He spat, ears pinning back into the silken tangles of his mane just as he drove down sharply with both hooves and struck the other stag into unconsciousness.

He’d done it.

His gaze shifted suddenly to Nayeli and his lips pulled into a wide, somewhat disbelieving smile. He’d won. His vines untangled from the limp form of the bay and let the massive frame of the other sag and slump over into the grass as he moved as swiftly as he could towards Nayeli. He paused, just in front of her, tentative as he watched her.
What would she think of him? Had he truly saved her?
Why? Why was his mind racing a million miles a minute? His heart? It hammered in his chest as he looked at her, suddenly chiming with a soft laugh.
“Who saved who?” He murmured suddenly, expression softening.

Nayeli
It wasn’t possible.
But it happened.
That was what they whispered amongst the fawns of Glenmore for the rest of rut. A pale-coat stag had beaten a handsome son of *insert god name here heh*, for the claiming of a pretty pale filly.
Nayeli was stunned. She hadn’t meant to do that, with the flower. It had just sort of...happened. It had seemed to do more than she had ever intended it to, for Vahlo stood there before her now, a pleased, nervous smile across his face.
He had won.
She looked up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes as his expression changed and his smile became softer.
“Who saved who?”
She didn’t know what he meant, but her heart was about ready to burst. It was beating against her ribcage harder and faster every passing second. Finally she couldn’t stop herself and Nayeli flung herself at him.
“Oh Vahlo, thank you.” she nuzzled into his withers, “Thank you so much.”
With a deep breath the cremello filly pulled back and rested her nose against his, before drawing back and looking up at him beneath creamy lashes. She was suddenly shy, and hopeful and excited, and so many things bundled all into one question.
“Do you claim me, Vahlo?”

Vahlo
As Nayeli embraced him, Vahlo sighed and gently leaned into her. He’d missed her and all of her eccentricity. Not that he could complain - she was a lovely doe and had always been one of his best friends. From the day he’d accidentally snuck into the Princess’s glade to every other meeting after that. He’d grown more and more fond of her.
And then, she pulled away and he found that she remained close but suddenly intense. The look she gave him could have melted any resolve he had against doing just that, had he actually had any. But then -- he hadn’t gone into this thinking this is how it’d end.
Even then, now that it had, he couldn’t say he was unhappy about.

If he could have glowed, the young stag likely would have. He leaned, thing time, running his muzzle from hers to her cheek to rest his head gently against hers, minding that his antlers did not touch her in any way. He then folded his neck around hers, holding her to him, a low ripple of a sound of elation trembling from him as he struggled to find words.
Struggled to breath even.
Finally he pulled away and with a somber nod, flushed an earnest pink.
“If you’d have me as your partner.” Despite his aches and injuries, he stooped to give her a deep nod. A respectful, meaningful gesture that, as he straightened, only seemed to befit the kind young stag all that much more.
Of course he’d have her, if she’d have him.
How could he have ever dreamed of telling her no?

Word Count;
Vahlo - 2,973.
Nayeli - 1,488.

ENJOY THE CAVITIES OF THESE SWEET BABIES!
AND ALL THE BACON TO RODWENDESS! Ahhhh!
This was such a fun Roleplay and Collab!

THANK YOU!

Fawn Artwork © to myself.
Background © to Rodwendess.
Characters © to both of us.
Please do not re-distribute!

Description

Featuring Vahlo and Nayeli .Fall, Year 768 of the New Age,
Just within the Glenwood.

Nayeli
As the leaves began to change from green to golden amber, so too came the time when fawnlings would begin to gather and fight for the right to does. So it was that Nayeli’s fifth year began and she attended her first rut.
To say she was nervous was an understatement. Princess Eden had been kind and supportive of her, and the filly loved her mistress even more for it. Lwenth had even fluffed over her before she left Lord Lorik’s princess glade, telling her that if she were lucky she might even be claimed by a Lord and her own children would be royal. If she had thought hard enough about it, Nel might have thought the grouchy old hoofmaiden even liked her.
Nayeli tried to breathe deeply as she and other fillies from glades near her own, stepped into the fighting glades. It wouldn’t be proper for her to panic! She’d embarrass her mistress!
No. This would be romantic. A handsome knight would come and sweep her off her feet. Bring her flowers and ply her with sweet words. Yes, that was how it would be. She would convince herself. Even still, as the other fillies chittered and giggled nearby about how they were off to find handsome strong husbands, Nel could not help but feel a pang of fear.

Vahlo
It was fall once again. The weather was beginning to chill and with it, the colors began to shift. Tempers began to simmer and flare and the pale stag found a simple, comfortable ease in just extricating himself from any hostile situation by avoiding his fellow fawns altogether. Even those few friends of his. He put distance between himself and them as, often, he had seen rut turn some of the kindest faces into the most brutal.
Does that slid past him in bundles of giggles and whispers made his gut tighten with unknown desires. Even if he wasn't quite sure why, he brain let his body know they were far more tantalizing than they had been in the years past and he had to set his jaw against the temptation their long, fluttering lashes and lithe, supple frames caused. Even the softest, accidental touch from one of them set the young stag’s blood on fire and he quickly decided it was just so much easier and he was far less unpredictable when he was alone.
Still, Glenmore was a big and layered herd that became slightly erratic with the start of rut. Areas once uninhabited or unfrequented were suddenly amass with groups of stags showing off or couples trying to find privacy within each other. All of Vahlo’s usual haunts were turning up haunted and he kept being chased away by over zealous stags looking for a fight.
Why? Why did this time of year have to turn everyone into monsters?
The pale stag ghosted through the Glenwood as quietly as possible, trying to remain nondescript. He succeeded for a short while too, at least, until he suddenly found the area around him thick with other fawns. Amidst a particularly large looking group, he paused to assess the new and unfavorable predicament he was in. They had formed a sort of arena and stags were grunting and straining in the center in a ‘glorious, display of power. They pushed against each other, heaving and sweating. Cursing and throwing insults which only increased their anger. Their fervor.
Yuck. What had he wandered into?
So this is what these large patches of people were that he so desperately(and apparently unsuccessfully) had been trying to avoid. Brawling matches. Something that, with his miniscule build, Vahlo would never do very well in. Then again - he’d never dream of challenging another stag for his chosen does. That just seemed so brutish.
A familiar giggle and a paleness he recognized drew his gaze abruptly towards one of the far off sidelines. His ears swiveled forward and he perked up, suddenly seeming excited by whom he saw. Nayeli? It had been a while! He turned to slip into the crowd, deciding he wanted to make his way towards her to say hi -- in the least. But he also knew he had to be careful and he kept that in the back of his mind as well.

Nayeli
“Well I heard my mistress say that only the greatest and most handsome stags win the pale does.”
Nayeli was only half listening to the fillies next to her as they gossiped with each other. Every so often they would flutter their eyelashes at the stags that fought each other in the centre of the arena. At one point Nel could have sworn she saw a very pale grey filly flutter her eyes at one stag, attract his attention and then flash her smile at another stag and catch his as well, only for them to end in a clash of antlers.
The creamy filly was aghast. For all it was exciting to watch the stags fight and test their mettle against each other; it was entirely reprehensible to pit them against each other!
Wistfully, Nel watched the stags slam their racks against each other. While she knew there could be violent, bloody, clashes, the guards seemed to be keeping them fairly well under control so that it was a test of strength without bloodshed. For that she was glad. She never really had liked the sight of blood.
They really were quite handsome. Sweat and musk filling the air. Muscles clenching and rippling under hides. It made her quiver with excitement, her fear mostly gone now, replaced with something else.
Most does caught the eyes of stags from across the glades and drew them in with heavy, seductive gazes. But Nel wasn't really sure she could do that. The fillies beside her giggled, dragging her back into the present.
On the other side of the glade she noticed a pale stag step into the arena and look like he wished he hadn’t. Nayeli giggled. Vahlo really was very silly. Her eyes travelled along his form. His coat might be an unattractive pale colour for a stag, and he might have been a little long legged, but his form was fit and lithe and his rack was slowly growing to be quite impressive.
Something stirred in her belly and her breath caught as his eyes flicked up and caught her gaze. She smiled shyly at him under her eyelashes and he returned it. He was actually quite handsome when he smiled.
“Why hello there.” The voice was deep, and smooth like chocolate and a dark pelted stag brushed up behind her.
Nayeli’s voice caught in her throat and she froze. Only turning her head to look up into glittering black eyes.
“Don't let just any stag touch you child! Do not let them get close to you unless you wish it!” Lwenth’s words whirled through Nayeli’s head as she stared in shock up at the stag that was pressing himself against her.
“H-h-hello.”

Vahlo
“You enjoying the show little love?” The dark stag purred, stooping some to where he was certain she’d be able to feel his breath roll over her withers and the base of her elegantly long neck. He knew he’d be pushing his luck if he pushed much further but, judging my the shock in those pale blue eyes, the little doeling didn’t know how to react.
Was she afraid? “Don’t be scared. I know a good thing when I see one.” His flattery was like velvet as it rolled off his tongue and he rubbed his cheek along her side with a low sound of needy bliss. The mixture of scents in this particular glade along with the mass of testosterone had the stag feeling bold and he glanced up at her through hooded lashes and grinned, “We should go find some place quiet. I can tell you haven’t done this before. Perhaps I can show you the ins and outs? We can have a good time together.” He pressed closer to her once more, as though trying to perhaps intimidate her? It was hard to tell. He was being pushy in an almost unobvious way and to a young and inexperienced doe, it could have appeared deceitfully like chivalry.
“Nayeli I-” The words died on Vahlo’s lips as he shouldered through the last of the fawns that stood between he and the younger doe. His gaze flitted in muted shock from the larger stag to the equally shocked doe in question and his brows seemed to furrow in unspoken question. The dark stag, however, jerked away from the small hind and placed himself between she and her friend, “Oh no Doe-Coat. You’re a little too late.” The dark stag spat at the pale stag, ears swinging back and his tail giving an irate flick at his rump.
“She is mine.”

Nayeli
Nayeli’s heart was beating furiously in her chest. Hammering against her ribs louder than a drum. The stag had just come out of nowhere and she didn't know what to do.
His words were sweet and honeyed but they made her uncomfortable. The arena felt like it was converging in on her and the air was thick around her face.
The dark stag pressed against her, as if to usher her towards the edges of the crowds and away from the arena. Panic was growing inside her. She didn't want this.
The creamy filly couldn't reply to the stag’s questions. She could only stand and quiver with anxiousness.
“Nayeli I…”
The hoofmaiden’s head whipped around to the source of the familiar voice.
Vahlo had pushed his way through the crowds to her and now stood there looking at her in confusion. The large bay stag firmly pushed himself between her and her friend and staked him claim.
Nayeli's heart dropped so low she thought she would cry. It was all over now. With more sadness than she had ever felt, Nel locked eyes with the pale coated stag.

“Vahlo.”

Vahlo
The cremello stag didn’t know what it was. Whether it was hormones or the heartbreaking look of sadness and panic that swam desperately in Nayeli’s eyes. Whatever it was, it surged something deep within the young stag and sang through his body in the form of blinding fury. Vahlo was often awkward with unfamiliar and negative feelings. They made him feel out of place and alien in his own body. But this burned a clarity so deeply into him that it was as though the rest of the world melted away and all that remained was he, Nayeli, and the stag in front of him.
‘She’s mine.’

It wasn’t the doe-coat comment that stung bitterly at him. It was his suddenly voiced claim. The finality in it was almost inarguable and the smug look on the darker stag’s face wound Vahlo up even tighter. Nayeli was scared. And this… brute was mistaking her silence as compliance. Submission, even. Even though her fear was palpable.

“No.” Vahlo’s own voice surprised him. There was a rumble to it he’d of never imagined would come from him. A whispering threat. And even the face of a much larger, far heavier foe, Vahlo felt suddenly unafraid. “You’ve terrified her. You are bullying her to get your way. And I won’t stand for it.” He added with a sudden stamp of a hoof. His head dropped fractionally and his ears swung back. A new intensity about him.
An intensity that the surrounding fawns around them seemed to register as a challenge since they seemed to part and extend the arena to once again include the two.
The dark stag’s eyes flickered wide before laughing. A loud guffaw of disbelief, “You weigh next to nothing! You are puny and built like a female! What hope could you have against me?! I’ve staked my claim over this doe. If you want to ‘protect’ her. Take her from me.” The larger stag’s voice tapered off into a deep growl and his head bowed lower still, a hoof raking dirt and debris up over his side as he huffed gruffly.
Vahlo was taller. By well over two hands and rut had fluffed the muscle along his shoulders and neck substantially. In comparison to his opponent however, he was dainty. Spindly limbs with little weight backing him. His rack, at seven, had width and long, dangerous tines but it was definitely not prime. The dark stag at his front had seen a few rounds. Girth and size backing a formidable rack. The cremello stag definitely had his work set out for him.

It was in those final moments he could have taken the moment to back down.

And in that moment, Vahlo suddenly squared his shoulders and hips and narrowed his eyes.

This stag was not going to take Nayeli. Not if she did not want him.
Not as long as he was standing.

Nayeli
The air was thick with anticipation. It was as if all those fawns around them drew a collective breath with her at the challenge issued between the two stags.
Nayeli couldn't believe what she was seeing. He wasn't...was he? Her eyes widened. He was!
“Vahlo!” This time the fear in her voice was evident as she called out to him. She could see how this would end. Her beautiful, lovely stag a pile on the ground covered in blood. She went to move towards Vahlo, to stop him, but the bay stag pushed her back away from him.
“Please!” It was only afterwards that she realised her pleas might have been misconstrued as calls for the cremello stag to save her, even though all she wanted in that moment was for him to leave and remain unharmed. It did not matter what happened to her. Only him.
But it was too late.

Vahlo
When the bay moved to push Nayeli back, the rage that simmered within the pale stag bubbled over. Her soft, frantic cries for him -- he couldn’t tell if it was because she was afraid of the stag now or the situation but nothing was stopping this. It had hit a rapid crescendo and it was only going to end in one way. One of them was not going to walk away from this.
With absolutely no warning and deciding he needed to throw himself into action before he lost his nerve, the cremello stag suddenly lurched forward. He dropped his head with a raw bellow and his cry was met by an equally furious roar from the other stag who lunged to meet him. They collided with enough force to echo - the clack of their antlers loud and devastatingly strained. The bay rippled with the collision and lost only the slightest amount of ground while Vahlo’s muscles corded tightly in effort.
The two were at a stand still for a moment, just braced against each other. But the bay once again was laughing. And then suddenly in motion. He threw his weight forward, drove his back legs into the earth and thrust himself forward. Vahlo’s hooves scrabbled over the earth in an attempt to not lose any ground but it was no use. As far as shear mass was concerned, the other male obviously had him beat. He would need to be smarter than this.
With a sudden jerk of the bay stag’s head, Vahlo found his world spinning as he was practically flung away from the other. He managed to only just fall to his knees before quickly recovering and spinning to face the bay and just in time as the bay immediately closed the distance between them with another crushing charge.

The weight of the bay stag’s antlers and his strength had Vahlo’s nose just barely above the ground. In particularly forceful pushes, the dirt infiltrated his lungs and burned through his esophagus but the lanky stag did not yield.
Another toss and Vahlo was on his side. There were a chorus of cheers around the ring. They were wanting him to lose. Why? Why would they choose this chauvinistic stag? This stag who would take away a doe’s rights just because he what? He felt like it? On a whim? Another surge of anger sang through the cremello stag and he was on his feet again before the bay had struck him. Even from his knees, they locked antlers and the bay’s standing advantage helped Vahlo to his feet. He pushed back, hard, anchoring his hooves into the earth with a shaky grunt as he resisted the bay’s next strong push.
Lashing out suddenly with front legs, Vahlo’s hooves struck meaty gold. They shredded through the bay stag’s left brow and the larger male swung his head back with a bellow and staggered. Vahlo took the opportunity and blindly drove forward.
The tines of his antlers seared painfully through the bay’s shoulder. Deeply.
The resounding cry of agony was followed by a short burst of rage as the bay dropped his head down suddenly and cracked his antlers down over Vahlo’s shoulders, dropping the cremello almost as quickly as he’d taken the advantage. Vahlo yelped and felt the immediate swell of pain spread through his bruised shoulder blades but it was the least of his worries when the bay descended with the rest of his weight -- and this time with the re-directed tines of his antlers. These sought easy purchase along his neck and back and the cremello stag found himself pinned and being brutally beaten. Bit. Cut into. Stomped on even.
He was trapped.
Again and again the bay struck out at him, holding him pinned beneath his antlers. Again and again the blows met paydirt and very obviously began to take their toll.
For what seemed like an eternity, Vahlo clenched his eyes closed and stifled his quiet cries of agony. Why weren’t the guards intervening? This wasn’t supposed to be a death match. Was it? Had he gotten to cocky? Had he simply made the mistake of assuming?
The blues of his gaze sought Nayeli for a moment and he found her blurred, pale shape fringing just on the outside of the arena. He wanted to apologize. He couldn’t save her. Perhaps, even, he’d made things worse for her. Would the bay be rougher with her now?
“...I’m..so..sorry.” He breathed, shuddering.
A triumphant laugh from above him drew the vicious blows to a halt and the weight suddenly lifted from him. He felt the bay spit, it’s wetness chilling against his withers and relief washed over him. It was over, he realized. But he’d lost.
The crowd cheered happily around them. Vahlo did not rise.

Nayeli
They cremello filly couldn't watch, but how could she look away?
The match was fearsome and many of those about the arena stopped and turned to watch Vahlo and the bay stag fight. She had never seen the cremello stag like this. His muscles trembled beneath his coat and his roars echoed about the clearing as loudly as the clack of his antlers against the bay stag’s.
It sent excited shivers down her spine even as much as she watched in horror at the damage they dealt each other.
For a moment, it even looked like her pale-coated stag would win out as the bay stag wheeled back in pain. But her hopes diminished as she realised it only served to make the bay stag even angrier and in no time at all, Vahlo as was prone in the dirt, just as she had envisioned.
Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes as he raised his head to her. A breathy apology on his lips. He need never apologise.
Nayeli stepped closer, her head low to the ground. She wished she could show him. Wished she could make him see how much he meant to her. How much she appreciated everything he had done. Everything he had tried to do. How much she -. Everything. She wished he knew everything.
The earth rustled beneath his nose, where it hovered in exhaustion just above the ground. Almost as if something was trying to push its way out. A green leaf. A tiny stem. And a single forget-me-not flower.
“Vahlo.”

Vahlo
The flower. It tickled his nose as it blossomed. It was wary as it sagged in front of him. Almost as wary as he felt. But when he seemed to realize it had come from Nayeli, he reached out to it gently. His magic curled around it. It seemed to regain some of its buoyancy. Then, another. The flower hissed softly as it bloomed beside Nayeli’s. And then another. Suddenly, they were popping up around him like popcorn - dappling the dull, fall-yellowed grasses with an immense amount of color.
The bay had started to limp leisurely towards Nayeli. His mouth was curled into an awful smug smile and his gazed at her like a predator would prey. He was so raptly focused on her, in fact, that he didn’t see the flowers that slowly had begun to creep towards the cremello doe. Flourishing gently at her feet in an almost perfect path from Vahlo to her.
The bay also wouldn’t notice the cremello’s sudden tremor as all of his energy shifted upwards and he coaxed his legs to hold his weight. They wobbled beneath him, almost as they had when he was a newborn. But he took a stand once more.
Around them, a quiet murmur and soft gasp seemed to finally catch the bay’s attention and he swung to slowly to see what the fuss was about.

He just wouldn’t give it up, would he?
The face on the cremello was amass with pain. But also with a renewed fire.
“You want more?!” The bay bellowed, sneering in the cremello’s general direction. “So be it!” The bay steadied his limp and tried to make a proud strut back in Vahlo’s direction. Vahlo who looked just about ready to collapse. Vahlo who sagged slightly in the weight of his injuries but somehow didn’t seem winded.
One more step and the bay was looming over him. One more step and the bay had dropped his head in preparation to charge. The flowers popping up beneath his feet went unnoticed. They continued to shift and whisper anxiously from him all the way to Nayeli.
His larger opponent struck the ground with a hoof and grunted, rippling as he steadied for his lunge. And then he lunged.
Vines, threaded with angry barbs, sprung from the ground faster than the stag could initially push off. They snared around his legs and pasterns. Lept up and wrapped around his antlers, forcing his head to the ground. The vines were tight and constricting as they ripped the bay stag’s legs out from under him and dropped him to an almost instant kneel, just as Vahlo straightened and limped towards the other male.
It was Vahlo’s turn to tower over the bay, gazing down at him with a snarl.
“She doesn’t belong to you.” He spat, ears pinning back into the silken tangles of his mane just as he drove down sharply with both hooves and struck the other stag into unconsciousness.

He’d done it.

His gaze shifted suddenly to Nayeli and his lips pulled into a wide, somewhat disbelieving smile. He’d won. His vines untangled from the limp form of the bay and let the massive frame of the other sag and slump over into the grass as he moved as swiftly as he could towards Nayeli. He paused, just in front of her, tentative as he watched her.
What would she think of him? Had he truly saved her?
Why? Why was his mind racing a million miles a minute? His heart? It hammered in his chest as he looked at her, suddenly chiming with a soft laugh.
“Who saved who?” He murmured suddenly, expression softening.

Nayeli
It wasn’t possible.
But it happened.
That was what they whispered amongst the fawns of Glenmore for the rest of rut. A pale-coat stag had beaten a handsome son of *insert god name here heh*, for the claiming of a pretty pale filly.
Nayeli was stunned. She hadn’t meant to do that, with the flower. It had just sort of...happened. It had seemed to do more than she had ever intended it to, for Vahlo stood there before her now, a pleased, nervous smile across his face.
He had won.
She looked up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes as his expression changed and his smile became softer.
“Who saved who?”
She didn’t know what he meant, but her heart was about ready to burst. It was beating against her ribcage harder and faster every passing second. Finally she couldn’t stop herself and Nayeli flung herself at him.
“Oh Vahlo, thank you.” she nuzzled into his withers, “Thank you so much.”
With a deep breath the cremello filly pulled back and rested her nose against his, before drawing back and looking up at him beneath creamy lashes. She was suddenly shy, and hopeful and excited, and so many things bundled all into one question.
“Do you claim me, Vahlo?”

Vahlo
As Nayeli embraced him, Vahlo sighed and gently leaned into her. He’d missed her and all of her eccentricity. Not that he could complain - she was a lovely doe and had always been one of his best friends. From the day he’d accidentally snuck into the Princess’s glade to every other meeting after that. He’d grown more and more fond of her.
And then, she pulled away and he found that she remained close but suddenly intense. The look she gave him could have melted any resolve he had against doing just that, had he actually had any. But then -- he hadn’t gone into this thinking this is how it’d end.
Even then, now that it had, he couldn’t say he was unhappy about.

If he could have glowed, the young stag likely would have. He leaned, thing time, running his muzzle from hers to her cheek to rest his head gently against hers, minding that his antlers did not touch her in any way. He then folded his neck around hers, holding her to him, a low ripple of a sound of elation trembling from him as he struggled to find words.
Struggled to breath even.
Finally he pulled away and with a somber nod, flushed an earnest pink.
“If you’d have me as your partner.” Despite his aches and injuries, he stooped to give her a deep nod. A respectful, meaningful gesture that, as he straightened, only seemed to befit the kind young stag all that much more.
Of course he’d have her, if she’d have him.
How could he have ever dreamed of telling her no?

Word Count;
Vahlo - 2,973.
Nayeli - 1,488.

ENJOY THE CAVITIES OF THESE SWEET BABIES!
AND ALL THE BACON TO RODWENDESS! Ahhhh!
This was such a fun Roleplay and Collab!

THANK YOU!

Fawn Artwork © to myself.
Background © to Rodwendess.
Characters © to both of us.
Please do not re-distribute!