The Young Wild -- chapter 1

Story by _chance on SoFurry

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#1 of The Young Wild

A young buck returns home and discovers what new changes the season has brought him.


Chapter 1

A broad, well-worn trail wound its way through the forest of sugar maple and beech, all kissed a golden orange by the low sun. Their leaves were just beginning to turn and shimmered, blown by the early autumn breeze. The pair of weary bucks, father and son, had been walking the wooded trail since morning, covering many miles under their heavy packs. In the opening ahead where the bare dirt path finally emerged from the forest, the young buck heard a voice call his name and instantly he knew he was home again.

"Bryn!"

She was unmistakable. The voice that carried through the forest was somehow different to his perked ear than he remembered from seasons before, more mature maybe, but he instantly recognized her and that sound of genuine joy. The weight of his pack seemed to lift and he was running toward her with renewed vigor.

"Clover!" he waved clumsily, his father at his side, fur worn and weathered from the journey. The younger buck ran ahead, the elder left behind shaking his head affably.

The two deer met in an ecstatic embrace and enjoyed each other's warmth for an unhurried moment. Bryn breathed in the quasi-familiar scent of his old friend; unmistakably hers, but again not quite as he remembered. Bryn pulled back, but kept his hands on Clover's shoulders as if the precious moment of reunion might otherwise run too short. She was beaming, and while words momentarily failed her, she bubbled over with bright laughter. Like the young buck, she stood there comfortably nude from nose to toes in her tawny fur, doused gold by the sunset. It was a long eight months since Bryn left his clan, which is to say the clan that adopted him and his father many years ago, and this place was more a home than anywhere he had ever known.

"Wow, Bryn . . . I can't believe you're finally back, safe and alive. And really not that worse for wear." Clover rubbed a hand through the fluff on the top of his head, drawing attention to the modest antlers growing in for the first time. "_These_are new!" she added enthusiastically.

Bryn bowed to indulge her curious touch. "Yeah, I dunno. I just woke up with them one day," he teased. "I'm sure they're nowhere as big as Evan's, if he's half the buck I remember!"

The joy seemed to flatten in her face. "Oh . . . Evan, he's . . ."

There was a pause as she searched for the right words.

"Is he alright?" he asked seriously.

"He's just fine, it's just that . . ." the doe sighed. "Come with me; I'll explain on the way."

* * *

Night was soon descending over the forest and Bryn navigated the thick brush and low branches, following a narrow trail by the dying light. He huffed heavily, rushing uphill to where he hoped he could find his old friend, and turning the last corner through the pines the path opened up. The last of the purple sunset glowed over a spacious valley carved through the thick, hilly forest, and on the outcropping before him, looking out at the scene, sat a lone buck.

Bryn exhaled loudly in relief; it wasn't too late, he was still here. "Evan?" he called tentatively.

The buck turned to him, still on his stone perch. His back was strong, well-defined, and the season's hefty antlers had already grown to an impressive size, cord strung between them in proud decoration, accented artfully with feathers and glass beads. Evan was the eldest son of the clan leader, and as such was expected to inherit the status himself when the need arose. Seeing him for the first time in months, sitting there quiet, powerful and grown, Bryn felt he looked every bit the part.

He grinned back at the younger buck, solemn but welcoming. "Bryn . . . you made it back safe."

"I was worried . . ." he caught his breath, ". . . I wouldn't see you again!"

Evan turned back to the valley. "Then you've already heard."

Bryn swallowed nervously, "Is it true? Are you really leaving the clan?"

There was a long pause from the older buck before he turned to Bryn and gestured to a place beside him. "Yeah, it's true. I wish it didn't have to happen so soon after you got back, but it's been decided. And it's for the best. My dad thinks so, and . . . and I do, too."

Taking a seat beside his friend, Bryn cast a pleading look, "But why? I mean, you're supposed to be the dominant male--the clan needs you!"

"The clan doesn't _need_me. And not here anyway." He answered sternly, speaking more as an adult to Bryn's ears than the boy he once knew, resigned to his fate and willing to accept it dutifully. "I can be a stronger asset to the clan if I move on, see some of the world, find another herd and carry on my father's legacy there. And like I said, it's been decided. Winter's only a few short months away, so I've waited too long already." He sighed, and continued softly, "I leave tomorrow morning. First thing."

Sitting beside him, Bryn struggling to make sense of it all. A year ago, Evan would never have kowtowed so readily to the expectations of his elders. He had a place in this clan, a promising and enviable one, and surely wouldn't have given it up without a bitter fight. The whole matter really did seem to be out of his control.

Finally, Bryn spoke up, at a loss, "Where will you go?"

Evan brushed an anxious hand through the fur between his antlers, "I guess out west to the Copper Falls, I dunno . . ." He looked over to Bryn, eyes weary, dried blood on his muzzle, and shook his head.

It wasn't easy seeing his old friend in such a state. They'd been like brothers since the time he arrived in the clan as a little fawn. Tears welled in Bryn's eyes and he recalled some of his own recent journey, "When my dad and I were following the Wausauka River north, up toward the Cedar Mountains," he wiped his eyes, "we went part of the way with a company of traders; deer like us. Maybe you could find them. Maybe they could help you . . ."

Evan nodded, gazing thoughtfully out at the valley, and eventually nodded. "That's a better plan than anything I'd come up with."

He grabbed the younger buck with one arm in a hug that scruffed up his whole side, and he laughed through the tears.

"You've been a good friend to me, Bryn. More like a brother, really. And if only you were. By blood, I mean. You would've make a noble clan leader someday." He sighed audibly. "I don't want to leave, I really don't. But I don't have a choice."

The crickets' song began filling the forest and Bryn looked up to the first faint stars appearing in the indigo sky.

"Maybe we'll meet up again out there."

Evan nodded strongly, forcing a smile, "Maybe we will. Nothing's impossible."

He took Bryn in a firm hug and the tears streamed freely down his cheeks.