If she herself were not made of shadows, Cue Queue might have been surprised when the doe melted out of the foliage into clear sight. As it were, she was merely...impressed seemed so strong a word – perhaps approving, of how stealthy the approach had been. Here was a doe clearly dedicated to spending as much of her life undetected as possible, and now that she stood in the moonlight, Cue could see why - as well as why the brush of her tail had sounded more like the rustle of leaves."And yet you are expecting," she said, as if the train that culminated in that thought was plainly evident.
If that confused the doe, she did not show it. Her eyes – bright enough to match the glow put in Cue's by the Motherfather – remained inscrutable, unblinking. Then she blinked.
"There is a buck," her words were soft, hesitant, articulated piece by piece, as if she were not used to conversation, "he has a tail. Like mine. Not just like mine – like a leaf."
There is always a buck," the thought drifted lazily in Cue's head, or none would ever come to me. But she did not interrupt.
"I felt alone," the painful grind of every stuttering syllable, "and when I saw him, I felt less alone."
The silence sat between them for a moment, before Cue cut to the chase.
"You seek blessing."
The doe inclined her head, the strange petal-folds of hair susurrating like silk.
"Yes."
"It is not their health you fear for."
Another silence – but this was for the doe to break.
"I am...different. Strange. I am alone. When I am with him, I am less so. When I am not, I am still alone. I do not want my...children...to be...as I.
"...Please."
What to do...what to do. Two sides warred within Cue, and when they finally resolved and she moved to speak, she had the cogent thought that she'd gotten soft in her old age (which made her cringe).
"My dear," she said, and almost meant it, "we are all alone. You are different. Strange. So are we all. You are never as special as you think – but that is not a curse, nor a blessing. We are just as we are. You thought yourself one of a kind – till you found one of your kind. There may be others. And there are those who are truly apart. And there are those who are exactly as their neighbour – and yet no less truly apart. Every one may be more or less alone – but none have more or less capacity to be.
"I will not say you could be any less alone. Some of us will be alone forever. But for your children, I will say..." and here, her voice turned just that slightest bit different, as if there were another strength behind, "...may they never be more or less alone than they desire. "
A thoughtful pause, "And healthy, too, that's always a good one. Now, you may leave."
The doe bowed low, near to the ground.
"From the bottom of my heart, Unfurl thanks you," a whisper that melted back into the green as she did, like a leaf on the wind.
"Perhaps someday I shall meet your children, Unfurl," Cue concluded, and went on her way.
If only to see what happens when you mash two leaf-tails together. Hm.
END