White Noise was a generally amicable buck - personable, soothing, pleasant...a buck with intrinsically calming, comforting qualities. This seemed to be the reason why White Noise was rather good with the does. Some bucks disdained his calmness calculated, but White Noise, eyes half lidded with a faint smile, was never bothered by such accusations. He was far too stoic for that. Sometimes, however, a ripple came into his calm, steady world. He could sense it. Almost hear it. When he felt - heard? - it, he knew something had changed.
Sitting up next to the doe in the morning light, buried in the sounds of chirping birds and frogs, he knew what had changed.
He let the disturbance in the air lead him, after they had their pleasant farewell. Under the haze of existence, White Noise's head was held high, almost attempting to stretch above it, to find someone, something, to ease his concerns. He let himself wander in pursuit. He didn't think twice, eyes raised when he stepped into the shallow water. He'd only heard:
Hey, watch where the Motherfather you're going!
and his ears perked while gentle pricks dogged his ankle.
"Did you hear that?" He said, to no one in particular, until he looked down and found a caiman affixed to his leg.
With delicacy and stoicism, he attempted to take another step with the caiman'd hoof.
As much as he was stoic, he was indeed surprised when the caiman slipped into a rather less stout form, though not much less scaley.
"Don't walk with a caiman attached," Bitter End said with mild incredulity."I apologise for the disrespect," he responded, gazing into her glowing eyes, "I wouldn't have done that had I known you were the caiman."
"I don't think you should walk with any caiman on you," she snapped, then sighed. White Noise understood that her motion conveyed weariness, but wasn't quite sure of the cause. But he had never been bothered by such things.
"May I have a blessing," he said instead.
"Why?" she hissed, by way of habit.
"No Tomorrow is pregnant. Can't you hear that? I'd thought the chosen ones could."
And his head swiveled to regard their surroundings, eyes half-closed.
Her face contorted surprisingly well considering how scaled it was.
"...OK, there's no point drawing this out." She squinted at him, ears perked, and they settled as she continued to stare. "...she'll be fine. And well. And not walk with caimans attached to their ankle."
"Thank you," he said distantly, and the world fell back into its soothing rhythm. "I am truly grateful."
And as he wandered away, Bitter End couldn't help but utter "man, what a weirdo."
END