Oh Deer

Chapter 5...

I woke up in my bed. The events of last night still lingered in my mind. I slowly sat up, and I stumbled to my hooves and approached the front door, I wanted to visit Reed.

I knocked on his door slowly and gently. No response, I knocked harder, I heard him yelling "one sec" from the opposite end of the house. Shortly after, he creaked open the door. His face changed upon realizing that it was me,

"May I help you?" he asked in a nasty tone. I sighed,

"Hey, uh..." I started, "I'm.. sorry about yesterday," I muttered.

"You're sorry, huh? For helping a horse?"

"Reed. Please. It was a mistake... I- I shouldn't have trusted her."

"Well well well, look who finally grew some brains!" Reed shouted, walking inside without me. I, instinctively, followed him.

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"Cinnamon Cinnamon Cinnamon," Reed tsked. I simply stared back. He sighed as he plopped his haunches onto his chair,

"A mistake like that would make most deer unfriend you." Reed stood up again and headed to his bookshelf, picking a volume of, "Equestria's Demise" to indulge in. I still remained silent. I watched him carefully as he picked his book. I found myself glancing at his rear admittedly too many times, and I sweeped my glance away from him just as he made his way back to his seat.

"Maybe this will help," Reed said, pointing his hoof at the large book. He plopped it onto the table and flipped open a page, reading to himself silently. I silently glanced at him, then at the surface of the table, then back at him. It almost became a repetitive cycle. I wanted to break the silence, so... I spoke about what I saw last night. He shut the book carefully, laying it on the table, all the while maintaining a deep, shocked stare in my direction. Then, he nodded, shutting his eyes, as if he knew it all along. After a minute, I thought he would just continue reading his book in silence,

"Let me ask you something," he started. His voice startled me.

"yeah?"

"When you helped that pony, did you feel good about yourself?"

"Reed..." I knew where he was going, "Reed come on, I-"

"What?" He sprung up, "What? A-Are you gonna tell me that 'oh, but she's different! She's different'! B-Because, let me tell you this alright?" He leaned on the table, his front legs were as straight as poles as they pushed down on the wooden surface,

"They are all the same, Cinnamon. They are all the same."

I said nothing.

"They all w-wanna manipulate, and rule, and conquer!-"

"Okay? And? I-I'm pretty sure we've done that too at some point," I blurted out. The words escaped my tongue before I could think about them.

"Oh? Oh?" Reed's eyes widened as he pretended to be shocked, "OH Really?? Because l-last I checked, THEY are the ones that conquer! WE are the ones that succumb to THEM-!" He pointed to his left as if a pony was standing right beside him.

"Reed, you are talking about a whole race of ungulates. I..." I wanted to make a point, "I'm doubtful that every pony that has walked on Equestrian soil is irredeemable... or insensitive."

"And that's what your father said," he muttered. My ears flicked. I stared at him as I prepared to speak.

"No no, don't act surprised. You know. You know dang well what that stag has done to you. H-He abandoned you for them! He abandoned you for ponies! Ponies! How does that make you feel, huh? Huh? He abandoned you and your mother! A-And now she's dead-"

"Reed," I took a deep breath, "Shut up."

He paused for a moment, an expression of bewilderment swept his gaze,

"Shut up? Oh I'm so sorry! But guess what?? It's the truth-"

"Be quiet!" I boomed, slamming the table with my hoof. Reed said nothing, I don't know for how long, though. A minute, ten minutes, a day. He glared at me, I added one final utterance... "please..."

Reed's face changed, and he slumped back, sitting back on his chair. He began to giggle, shaking his head from side to side. I said nothing, I did nothing. I just glared at him. Reed sprung up from his chair and trotted into the kitchen. My face softened, and I simply peered down at the wooden surface of the table. I placed my head gently onto its surface. It was cold and unforgiving.

I could vaguely hear Reed yelling at his grandmother in the kitchen. a few minutes later, he returned to the table. He stopped for a moment, still registering that I was still sitting at the table, then slowly made his way to his seat. He sighed as he watched me. I could sense his gaze, his unapproving, disappointed gaze. I heard a page flip, and I assumed that Reed had opened up "Equestria's Demise" to read up on ponies. I never understood why he wanted to know so much about them, if he hated them so much. I stood up from me seat, "I need to go," I muttered under my breath. Reed nodded, not passing a glance at me whatsoever. I turned my rear and left the hut.

"See you around..." I heard him say in a subdued manner. I didn't turn back.

I saw the sun vanish behind the tree-line, and the breeze gained a chill to it. I pranced adjacent to the gentle brook, the trickling of its pure, crystalline watercaught the attention of my pointed ears, pulling them toward the noise.

As I approached my hut, I could see two deer neighbors conversing. I recognized them. It was Maple-Blade and Rising Bud. The deer couple that lived next door.

I paused in my tracks, and watched from a distance. Maple-Blade, the stag, appeared to speak with haste about something. I could barely make out what he was saying, but I thought I could hear "Just leave her," and, "They're coming."

Rising Bud's response didn't seem to make the situation any better. She appeared to have been shaking during the whole conversation, and I thought I could hear a forced sob. I slowly opened my door and entered my hut, in hopes that they would not notice me.

I slowly made my way to my straw bed. I skipped dinner again, and I felt not a smudge of hunger.

I sunk into the bed. A yawn came of me. I turned over, trying to find a comfortable spot. My body shivered. I anticipated the next train, but it didn't seem to come. I slowly sat up in my bed, the crickets were the only sound audible from outside. I tried to be in-tune with them, their soft chatters and murmurs into the night. But then, I heard another sound, barely noticeable amidst the continuous hum of the crickets, a howl.

I remained seated, still listening to the crickets. I dismissed the sound as merely a wisp of wind. Then, another howl followed. I felt a shiver in my body. My ear twitched, almost pulling away from my head as it aimed at the sound. A third howl followed.

I got up from my straw bed, still facing the window. I felt cold. Another howl followed, much louder than the preceding. I slowly crept out my room, the cricket noises diminished as I stepped away from my window, but the howls did not.

I froze. In the middle of my hut. I glanced to my left, my bed, the window, a howl. To the right, a few unfinished woven baskets, another window, and another distant howl. This time, they were accompanied by an accompaniment of growls, snarls, and paw steps. They were near.

I heard a few growls and rabid barks, and I scurried to my bed, dropping my silk blanket over my cold body. I shivered, even with the blanket over me. The howls were no longer distant, now they were right outside my window. They're here.

I heard a shrill scream. A visceral shriek. It came from a nearby hut. The barking got louder, and so did the scream. The scream appeared to sound more raspy and agonized with each second. The screams got to my head. I saw the village again. It was happening all over again. The crying yearlings, the screaming parents.

A loud, multi-tone blaring train whistle made me gasp. I was back in my bedroom. I was back under my sheets. The loud, forefront howls and snarls reduced to whimpers, and the whimpers themselves soon reduced into nothingness. The lengthy, drawn out scream of the whistle soon diminished, along with the continuous chugs of the steam engine. And, the crickets remained, like they never left.

I slowly lifted the sheets off my face, then my body. I looked outside, darting my eyes around to every reachable field of view. The "timbers" are gone.

I slowly creaked open my door, I looked around, then to the front of me. I saw a trail of blood. I walked out of my hut, to see the trail of blood lead to a body.

I felt my heart stop. I felt my body numb. Then, I felt my heart pound, and my hooves rushed to her. It was Sap-Joy, now laying on her side, dead.

I stood there. I felt my heart pound. I felt my legs tremble. I stumbled over, my breathing became the only sound I heard… “No…”

"Sap-Joy?" I heard a voice call. It was Reed-Tail. He trembled on his hooves, as he slowly arrived at the scene. Then, he began to bawl. He wailed, screamed, holding Sap-Joy's head. Tears streamed down his face like two, tiny rivers on his cheeks. I held him. His screams got louder, his tears more anguished.

I got up, and I slowly trotted to Sap-Joy's hut. The door was wide open. I found myself looking into her life in that hut. I saw a small table tucked away in the right, and I inched toward it. A letter on a large maple leaf was written,

Reed-Tail, I want you, I feel the need to see you. Will you come? Maybe tomorrow morning for a little chat.
-Sap-Joy

I stared at the words, long after I read them. I stared at the hoof-writing. I stared at her name, the hoof-stamp beside it. I even stared at the color of the leaf for which the letter was written.

I left the hut, my friend still cried her name. I found myself following my legs as they walked into the next hut, the hut of Maple-Blade and Rising Bud.

A part of me wanted to check every hut, to see if every-deer was okay. But that would prove to be challenging, as there were eighty or so huts in our village. Rising Bud's hut was quite spacious compared to Sap-Joy's, especially when looking inside. It even had two straw beds inside.

I scanned around. I looked at the written leaf-scrolls on the walls. Most of them were old poems and mottos in old deerian. I looked to my right, and I saw a wood-stump with the names of Rising Bud and Maple-Blade carved into it, as well as the names of their yearling stag, and an additional one. I looked closer, squinting, "Maple Bud"

I felt a slight feeling of joy envelop me as I saw the name. If I had known that their second fawn was born, I would have given my newly woven basket to them. I could picture them being so happy with their new fawn. Judging by the name, I could assume that she was a doe. I walked outside, observed their garden. The flowers were unkept and wilted. I turned around, and walked to the backyard. I felt my soul fill with pure and sudden dread and distraught as I caught sight of a small dirt pile, slightly raised from the green-grass ground. I inched closer, and a carved stone was gently laid on top, with a name, "Maple Bud."