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The mouse's steps were heavy, and her expression unusually somber as she made her way home. It was tempting to dwell on her meeting with her love that morning. But she was alone in the woods, and survival must come first. Long honed habits, and occasional reminder to herself that her love would want her back whole once he'd fed, ensured she'd keep her head up, keep glancing back and forth, keep paying attention to the outside world. She vaguely wished a fox would come after her, or some sort of danger, something that would force her attention away from the past to the ever-present. It didn't have to be a fox, a rat could be good! Well, except Tarik would be upset if she hurt a rat or a rat hurt her. Step step step step, keep on moving. When she got home to her burrow, she could find a corner to nestle in, pile the dirt up on top of herself, and wait for the morrow and a better day to come.

Lichthia would soon get her wish, almost. Not too far off a strong rustling of leaves could be heard, almost deafening to the sensitive ears of a mouse. It was joined by the heavy stomping of large feet, feet that were undoubtedly larger than the wished fox. . . even a wolf for that matter. Then. . . silence. A sudden hushed stillness; not unlike the eye of a storm. After only a few seconds, it began again, louder this time! The noise never seemed to change origin, never got closer or moved further off. Just as before things would go quiet, fade to a calm. . . before starting all over again.

The mouse crouched, staff leaping upwards as though it were a living thing in her paws. The distraction had the desired effect, completing distracting her from her reverie. Yet still, tensed, she wondered what it could be. Too large to be rat or a fox or even a cat, perhaps to large to be a pred interested in mice. The cautious thing to do would be to leave it alone, yet when had she ever let curiosity yield to caution? She'd peer about first, getting the lay of the land. Then creep forward, sliding under a bush, hoping to get a peek at whatever the thing was, without being seen herself.

As she moved closer, the noise grew. . . more desperate. Not only was there pounding of strong feet along the dirt, and the heavy shaking of leaves, but. . . some sort of cry. Not a call of predatory dominance, but instead, one of feral panic. Looking out from her cover, Lichthia would find a small clearing. . . with a deer, standing before a large walnut tree. It would look to be a buck, a younger buck. His antlers were not yet grown out, only long enough to mark him as one just out of adolescence. Part of the antlers looked broken, and what wasn't. . . seemed to lean into the branches. That loud rustling came again: The stag's horns were caught within a tree. . . not at all coming loose. He'd bleat for help, stomp his hoofs along the ground and give a strong kick behind. The deer would then go very still. He'd tilt his head to look around, limited in its movement. Not sensing the presence of another, he'd continue his desperate struggle to pull free.

The mouse shimmied herself forward on her belly, then peeked a look out from beneath the brush. Her eyes widened and her jaws dropped. Ohhhhhhhh. He was beautiful! He was an answer to a prayer. He was young, and small enough for her love to eat, yet he didn't look to be a child as far as she could tell. Oh! He'd be better than the gazelle! There was so much meat. Jaabir could take this one, and she and Jack could spend a long blissful time together, and Jaabir and she would have plenty of time to play games together. Oh, she wanted him! She wanted him for another, but the desire was no less than if it had been for herself. If anything, she valued the snake's well being over her own, and this deer was exactly what her love needed!

As the deer grew still, the mouse shrank back. Had he noticed her? . . . .No, no. . he was just scanning for danger. As he renewed his struggle, she'd slide herself back, furrowing her brow, she tried to think what to do now. Technically of course, she wasn't supposed to help the python. But it wasn't her fault the deer had gotten stuck! If she did nothing, he'd likely fall to some pred anyway, and what pred was more deserving than Jaabir? Still, she wasn't supposed to tell Jaabir where a prey was. Perhaps she could find him and. . . . .lead him this way? That wouldn't actually be telling him.

As these thoughts went through her head, the forest went silent again, and she discovered, she was pulling herself forward on her paws towards the deer again. Immediately she froze, and her head whipped around behind her, staring at an unseen voyeur, a silent spy she couldn't see, but she could feel it's gazing burning into her back, the gaze of her own conscience. In that moment it felt like a separate presence, and not a welcome one, and she stared over her shoulder and in her mind she cried out, 'No!' It was a silent cry, but no less passionate for that. She felt the pitiless gaze that new nothing of love, and she repeated, 'Noooo.' Then swallowed. Then she'd argue, 'S'not my fault he got himself stuck. I don't have to help him.' Then she flinched, ears flattening. In a begging tone, she silently spoke, 'Please, my love is hungry. I have to. . . ."

She turne back then to gaze at the deer who was struggling, and she remembered what Morathi had said. Owls were wise after all, wiser than anyone, and who was she, a mere mouse to be so arrogant to argue with one. There was no right or wrong, there was only power, and will. Those who were strong shaped the will to their desire. She was one such, the owl had said. She could shape the world to her desire. She could make a world where her love was fed, where he was no longer sad or guilty, and where they could be together. She could. . . she could. . .

The mouse's mouth was open now, and she was taking deep breaths to calm herself, trying to keep quiet. The stag was again as well, peering about, though he hadn't seen her. Shoulders sagging in defeat, she reached forward and pulled her head out from hiding.

"Hello?" The tone was a soft shy squeaky one, sounding like that of some small rodent. Her voice just barely perceptible, the little mousey head looked up from her hiding spot, seemingly afraid of the stag, giving him a cautious timid greeting.

The rustling came to another pause, when the mouse made herself know. He wouldn't yet see her. And despite the faint words, the buck would tense, back hoofs pushing into the ground in preparation to kick and snort giving a strong snort. Everything was a danger now. He couldn't appear vulnerable! His head would tilt then, eyes straining to see. Spying the small rodent, the deer immediately relaxed himself. It was just a tiny mouse. . . even as helpless as he was, at least that wasn't a danger. "H-hello. . ." the buck replied shortly, his voice anxious. He'd dig in his feet and pull strong, leaves and foliage shaking free all around. . . but not him. The deer stopped, and shut his eyes. He'd pant hard, visibly winded by this point, and scared.

The mouse suppressed a frown of disappointment. Back in the days when she'd been all alone, she would have given anything for a polite word. The larger creatures ignored her at best, or threatened to stomp on her at worst. Now when a threat would have given her all the excuse she needed to leave him for her love, she'd finally found someone who would talk! He was probably only nice because he was stuck, but it didn't matter. Outwardly the mouse would look terribly shy, huddled beneath the bush, staring at the great beast. "You stuck?" she'd ask meekly. Then, "Sorry. . . stupid question."

He'd almost look to have given up, by the way his head hung and the eyes stayed closed. Still, he'd give a small hopeful jerk of his antlers. Much longer and he'd probably be too tired for that much, possibly even lay himself to rest. . . losing his only defence, the opportunity to kick. The stag's head would turn again, an eye lifting half-way. He had almost forgotten of the little rodent, most would have scurried off in fear of being trampled. "Y-yes. . . I. . . am. . ." The deer gave another light pull, as if to demonstrate. It was never a comforting thing to admit your vulnerability in the wild. Instinct drove one to hide every weakness, no matter how obvious. It helped that the one he was admitting it to. . . could do him no harm.

Inwardly, the little mouse sighed. Why couldn't he have threatened to stomp her, or at least told her mind her own business, as most any other proud young buck would? Outwardly, she'd continue to peer up. "Maybe. . . ." she'd continue meekly, her voice just audible, "Maybe I could climb up your leg, and try and get you free. . . ." She'd peer upwards, crouched submissively. "If you promise not to kick me."

Those large soft eyes settled on her, watching. He'd turn an ear, straining to listen. The tiny rodent had managed to gain his full attention. He'd blink slowly, muzzle raising lightly, at the doe's proposal. Could such a small creature truly help him? There. . . didn't seem much harm in trying. He couldn't get free himself, and something was bound to come soon. A deer is significantly larger than a mouse, but. . . still prey. Even if there wern't many large cats in the forest, there were still pack animals like wolves or jackals that would happily feast on him if given opprotunity. And being forced still as he was, it made him supceptable to larger snakes as well. . . something not typically a danger if watched for. He'd give a quick nod, starting to get a bit more nervous as he glanced around. "Y-yes. . . little one. . . please try." He begin to lower himself the best he could. "I. . will not. . . harm you."

The mouse looked up timid and nodded. The fellow was positively polite. No, there was no excuse for feeding him to her giant python at all. She'd slowly place her staff against the bush, then scamper and approach the deer's leg cautiously. Her caution here was unfeigned; an errant kick that close would be harder to dodge than wolf's jaws. "Alright, hold still," she'd say softly, placing her paws on his leg. Then assuming he didn't move, she'd scramble up to his back, sitting there as reached up into the tree's mantle, little forepaws moving quickly as she worked.

"S'what's y'name?" She'd asks softly as she studied the branches. She was evidently a smart little rodent, testing and studying the branches first, rather than pulling at them blindly. Sitting on his back, he'd feel the deer's muscles with her legs. Ohh, he was strong one! Such a pity. Her love would have liked this one.

The deer kept his body low and and steady for the little rodent. Even so, he was clearly nervous. Being caught like that, knowing he couldn't run. . . it made it difficult not to fidget. When she climbed he'd focus on her movements, those tiny paws scurrying about his back. He'd tense lightly on reflex, but made no motion that could otherwise toss her off. It worried him, scaring or injuring his only potential aid. It was only a mouse, but. . . maybe she could reach where he could not, maybe she could chew or pull away at what was binding him. It was a greater hope than he had mere moments before. He'd turn an ear and carefully raise an eye upwards at that small squeaky voice. "T. . . Trent. . ." he'd reply, his voice still a bit shaken. He'd watch as she began, the mouse. . . surveying, looking over. Maybe she really could help? Get him loose before. . . something came. His gaze turned quickly, scanning the most he could to the side. There was nothing he could make out, but that meant little with a glaring and obvious blind spot. "P-please see. . . behind." He wouldn't seem to ask for the mouse's own name in return, perhaps more. . . distracted, than rude.

The mouse would shake her head slightly. "Best I concentrate on what I'm doin. Quicker I get you out, safer you'll be. Now hold still, there's two brances, m'getting the first one." She'd open her jaws and there'd be a cracking sound from the tree as rodent incisors met wood. There'd be a difficult pause, then a snapping sound as a branch came loose, and she pulled it away. "K, no one's behind you," she'd say, sparing a glance, "Just one more. . ."

The buck would seem to lower his head at that reply, though would give a belated. "Y-yes. . ." He'd keep his ears alert then, hoping that to be enough. What had been a timid mouse, was now calmly and confidently seeing to the stag's freedom. . . the deer himself was only feeling more restless. He'd shut his eyes and look to calm, his pants slowing. It would be then an ear raised, hearing the snap and. . . release of pressure. Was he free? No. . . the mouse had said two, but being a forest deer Trent wasn't much on math. He'd fight an urge to pull back. Even if he was free, he didn't want to hurt the one who recused him. He would very lightly turn his head to feel it catch, and then. . . hear the mouses words that there was still more to do, and. . . that there was nothing sneaking up behind him. "Good. . ." he'd say back softly. "Will be. . . soon?" The buck was calming, he knew what the mouse was doing seemed to be helping. . . and he might soon go free. His muzzle raised just faintly, looking to her again. It almost seemed to be a different mouse than the timid one who poked out of the bushes, though Trent would suspect neither an act nor replacement. He'd hold there for a time, silent, then. . . parted his muzzle to speak, "What is. . . your. . . name."

The mouse smiled as she worked. It was rare she met such a polite big creature. True, this fellow had plenty of reason to be polite, but it was unusual nonetheless. "Lichthia," she'd say softly. "And I think y'out soon, but I need y'help with this one. S'too think to bite through." She'd place both her paws on the offending branch. "Ok, I need you to lift y'head up. .. s'high as y'can go, n"i'm going to see if I can get this down beneath y'horns."

To the buck, the feeling of unusual company. . . was a shared sentiment. Mice kept to themselves and their own kind, as most prey creatures. Those thoughts were not dwelled on. The deer was feeling too anxious to get free. He'd hear her name and assurances. . . appearing to smile.

Her request was met with a subtle nod. "Y-yes. . . alright" Trent leaned forward and began to raise his head high. Lichthia would feel the muscles beneath her tighten strong. The process would be slow, gradual. While eager, he didn't want to do anything that might frighten or spook the little rodent. When getting as far as he could by only raising his head, he'd turn an eye to her. "This is. . . good? Lich. . . thia?"

"Yeah, tha's good," the mouse would answer. "Now hold on." There was a creaking sound of wood, and the mouse's legs and tail wrapped round the top of the deer's neck, pulling upwards as the mouse pulled down. "Ok. . ..walk. . ...forward. . ..slowly. . ." she'd instruct him.

Trent's ear flicked, and did as directed, holding his position and avoiding any sort of flinched movement. The cervidae didn't hold any frustration in acting on the words of a mouse, he only felt an ever rising hope. He'd. . . be free again, and would have only her to thank. Lichthia's new command was met with a slight pause. The deer wouldn't understand how moving closer to this tree was going to free him. It was the source of his entrapment. His instincts told him to pull. To struggle. To get away! Moving closer. . . . it made the deer very nervous; fearful this could make things worse. He might never get out. Finally, Trent would shut his eyes and offer a hesitated, "y-yes. . ." Trent's hoofed legs would shakily stride forward, trusting the mouse on faith.

The mouse's legs pulled upwards about the deer's neck as he walked forward. After a few steps there'd be a *thwang!* And a rain of leaves would come down upon the pair. The mouse would lean forward and put her arms around the deer's neck. "Ok, now duck your head and back out slowly and your free. Take y'time, I don't see anyone about."

Trent would near-startle at the sudden noise, movement, and release of pressure; his form tensing and legs poised to run on reflex. It would be Lichthia's direction that kept him from getting caught again, the buck relaxing himself and breathing steadily. "A-alright. . ." This choice of action was considerably less confusing to him. Head, antlers, neck, and mouse would lower downward, clear of making contact with any new branches. Then, he took a step backwards. . . and another, and another. Trent was growing more anxious then, not yet in realization he was free. He expected a catch as before, a strong pull against his horns. . . but didn't feel it, prompting a few more steps. Soon both deer and mouse would be standing a three feet away from the tree and any of it's unyeilding branches. Taking notice of the distance, Trent raised and shook his head, finding himself able to move it freely. To be safe, he'd look to the tree and gave a small jump back, before taking a deep sigh. There would be silence, the buck himself surprised and uncertain of how to react. Before the mouse came, he didn't think he was ever going to get away. . . that tree would be where he died. No finding a mate, no making a herd of his own. But now. . . he was free. That head lifted high, and turned, soft brown eyes staring. "Thank you. . . little one. Lich. . . thia."

The mouse leapt down and fetched her staff and her bag, and scurried back. Smiling, she spoke very rapidly, seemingly less shy than she had when she'd first made her cautious appearance. "M'pleasure, was actually kind of fun. S'good t'meetcha, Trent. Most big folk don't have much time for us mice."

Trent would bow his head kindly, a gentle smile forming about his muzzle. "It is. . . good to meet. . . you" he'd reply, having to think for a moment to find his words. Those large eyes looked her over. This mouse certainly did appear different now, but the deer wouldn't bring mention. He'd shake his head to her. "Let birds. . . stay. . . on horn. Let. . . mice. . . graze near. Make. . . safe." He'd turn to look behind, staring for a few seconds, before turning back. "Wolf. . . snake. Come. . . soon." he'd speak those words with concern, and given his new mobility, would not likely be concern for himself. "I. . . stay. You. . . graze. Find. . . food."

The mouse would smile, finding she liked the fellow. She was still disappointed her love would probably not be getting to eat a deer today, but at least she'd saved someone who was nice and not a jerk. She had to smile at the vision of a bird nesting in the deer's antlers. She was about to reply to his suggestion of helping her find food, when she saw the deer walking towards a nearby bush.

The buck was clearly trying to help the mouse in return somehow, and even as he offered his suggestion, began to search around himself. His eyes came to a short berry bush on his right side. Trent would slowly turn, making himself clear of the fragile rodent, before tensing his body. . . and kicking hard. The bush shook rapidly. . . spilling much of its yield to the ground.

The mouse smiled. Oh great! she thought to herself. Just what she needed, more berries! Actually what she really needed, she began thinking to herself, eyes straying towards the powerful legs that had kicked the berries loose. She shook away that thought, it wasn't nice. And besides, the deer was being kind, and they could use the berries, Tarik would need them. "Thank you!" she'd reply brightly, going over to pick them up. Paw moved rapidly, she'd had lots of practice in picking up food quick from before she'd met Jaabir. "Actually," she'd reply looking upwards, "If y'wouldn't mind given me a ride, m'burrow's not too far from here."

Trent took a step back as the little mouse took to foraging the bounty. He'd appear happy with himself, or more-so, happy the mouse looked happy. The gesture wasn't too uncommon for the young buck, allowing other creatures to feed freely by kicking against a bush or tree. It was took little from him. . . and gave them much food.

An ear flicked at Lichthia's new suggestion, and he'd look to nod without hesitation, more than willing to comply. "Yes. Take. . . food. I. . . carry." The cervidae waited until the Lichthia picked all she could, then extended his head and neck to the ground beside. He imagined it would be easier on the rodent to scurry up.

The mouse filled up her bag, something she wouldn't have done without the promise of a ride home. Having finished the job, she'd turn around, only to see the deer bow his head for her. Her heart melted. Most larger creatures would be far too proud to even address a mouse, let alone bow their head to make themselves easier to ride. "Thank you!" she'd squeak, coming over and crawling on top of him. Ok, she was happy she'd helped this fellow get free after all, even if it did mean her love had to suffer a little longer. For that matter, Jaabir would probably prefer he got away too. She wasn't exactly certain what the quality of 'selflessness' was, but this deer who let birds perch on his antlers and bowed his head to be mounted by a mouse obviously had it in abundance. "S'just up the path," she'd tell him, mentally figuring out the best way to travel. She wouldn't be able to go up the thickly covered ridge she was used to, nor would she need to. "Maybe I can introduce you to some of m'other friends who live with me."

Trent kept his head and neck steady. He'd only rise when his passenger made it safely to his back. Large hoofs clopping, the deer followed the trail onward. His movements were slow and careful, best described as long majestic strides. A small family of mice, that seemed just fine to the buck. Maybe he could help them all, in return for this one's kindness. "Yes. I would. . . like. . . that." he'd answer, still smiling. Of course the deer wouldn't realize Lichthia had a rather. . . varied network of friends.

The mouse's head would twist back and forth, whiskers twitching as she took everything in. "My, y'can sure a lot from up here," she'd remark. As they sauntered along, she'd keep a watch. "i should probably tell you, m'friends aren't mice. I was outcast from m'colony last spring." She'd smile, the collection not really troubling her. "So, I got one friend who's a bunny and one who's a rat." She's smile. "They're both outcasts of a sort themselves."

Trent continued on, head staring straight. Occasionally he'd turn his head to look about, but was comparatively less curious than the little mouse doe. "Yes." he'd respond simply, an eye raising to look at her, "More than. . . ground." The reply wouldn't seem intended out of rudeness, and in-fact spoke the words with a expression of friendliness, happy the mouse seemed to be enjoying herself. He'd frown, however, at the mention of her being an outcast. Those didn't last very long, not a mouse. And that explanation of her friends, would bring the deer to blink. It was of course strange for a mouse to interact with things that weren't mice, but he already experienced that from her earlier. A rabbit. . . he could understand that a mouse and rabbit might share company, especially outcasts. But, a rat? "You. . . friend with rat?" That earlier concern for the mouse would return. "Rat. . . eat mouse." He'd wonder if she realized. Being out in the forest, the deer had witnessed such occurrences himself.

The mouse grinned, more and more pleased with affable fellow. So he knew about the dietary habits of rats? That was surprising, she'd imagine moth big herbivores could barely tell mice and rats apart. "Some rats do," she'd agree, "but Tarik's a nice one. He doesn't eat mice. I helped him out, and now we're good friends."

The deer would still appear a bit confused. A creature which eats meat suddenly deciding not to? He wouldn't think a wolf, for example, to ever do such a thing. Trent had first learned of rats and their differences, when allowing some mice to forage near him. When the larger 'mice' came, and began to attack the others. . . he managed to scare them off. They didn't. . . seem like they could be 'nice' to the others. "Helped? I. . . see." To the deer, the mouse had helped him pretty significantly. Maybe if she did similar for a rat. . . they would be grateful too? He wasn't sure a rat could get caught in a tree though, maybe a small bush? A pile of weeds? "That is. . . good." Even as he spoke and looked away from the path, he'd continue on, keeping a steady relaxed pace. There would be a pause for time, the deer rather quiet, before he'd raise he'd look back to her. "How. . . help rat? Get from. . . tree?"

The mouse would smile tilting her head back. That was not an easy question. "S'complicated," she'd avere. "I sort of helped him get away from a cat." Or perhaps she'd helped him get away from a snake, after bringing him to the snake in the first place. Well whether she did or not, Tarik was grateful to her for saving his life, so the explanation was as good as any. "Sides, Tarik's nice for a rat," she'd continue. She'd pause a moment thinking. "Actually. .. .Tarik's jus'nice. Even for I met him, he didn't like t'hunt much."

Trent tilted his own head in return. The mouse. . . helped a rat. . . get away from a cat? That was different. "Oh. . ." He'd give another nod. It was still strange, but he'd slowly reason things in his own way. Ones of his old herd, didn't enjoy certain grasses or berries as much as others. Maybe a rat with a varied diet, might not enjoy meat as much as. . . walnuts? "Yes. . . I. . . see. If. . . safe?" He'd nod, his soft smile beginning to return. "I. . . will. . . meet." The deer returned his gaze to the path, "is. . . near?"

The mouse nodded, looking eagerly about. This was certainly both a safer and a more pleasant way to travel for her than on foot. "W'pretty close," she'd reply. It wasn't her intent to have the deer take her all the way to her burrow, where the brush got rather think. "In fact if y'wanted t'stop here, y'could. .. " Her voice would trail off as she stared intently at a little creek that trickled nearby. A smile spread across her face, spotting a familiar rat nerby. No doubt Tarik was out getting more water, though she suspected he was also keeping an eye out for her to make sure she came home safe. "Hey, Tarik!" she'd squeak, waving broadly from her perch to get his attention.

Tarik would be leaning hunched over, dipping a small container into the clear stream. He'd sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and worry. The mouse told him she wouldn't be gone too long, just to check from a distance if Jaabir had made his catch. It was a path she took many times, and the rat decided he didn't need to accompany. But now. . . it was near past noon, she should have been back by now. Maybe Jaabir had made his catch, and she was just staying there with him longer than she realized? Maybe the snake sprang out and ate her in a state hunger-induced rage? The rat shook his head with a long sigh. A few weeks before this, and he wouldn't have cared at all what happened to the mouse. But now, every time she left alone, every visit to the giant snake, every visit to the giant owl, even the visit to the not-especially-giant-but-still-terrifying cat. . . he felt concern. He wasn't even sure how long he had been holding that container within the water, when his ear gave a flick. The rat turned his head then, already taking a relieved sigh and smile. She had come back fine, nothing to worry about. . . just a little late and. . . what was that?

The gray rat would look up with an exasperated expression of disbelief. The tiny mouse riding in on a stag. He'd rub at his eyes, squinting and sniffing the air to confirm. How did she. . ? In consideration, he wondered if he should be surprised at all. No, he should just expect things like this. What's next? A tiger? A shark? Clearly life isn't exciting enough for her. So, you know, why not? Tarik took a breath, and relaxed himself. Though certainly unexpected, it perhaps wasn't as bad as the time she flew home in the talons of owl. A shaky paw would lift, with a forced smile. Even still, he'd tense himself, ready to jump away if that large deer came charging for him. He'd heard it happen, family of his out hunting. "H-hey. . . !" he'd answer back, his voice just slightly cracking.

The deer would listen close to the mouse, about to stop where he was. . . before turning his head quickly to the distant rodent, a grey rat. He'd stare at it for a moment, unsure if it give it a snort in warning as he had done with others. If it was the mouse's friend, that would be rather impolite. At Lichthia's confirmation, he'd ease himself, and slowly clop forward.

The was smiling from ear to ear, her expression not at all forced; if nothing else, her meeting had taken her mind off her concern for her love. "Tarik, this is Trent!" she called out. "Trent, this is Tarik." She'd look down at the deer and add, "I helped Trent here get his horns unstuck from a tree, and he helped me gets some food and carried me home!" She'd hold up the bulging bag and grin.

Trent would march near, stopping a few feet before and look down, large brown eyes blinking slowly.

'Of course you did. . .' Tarik would speak internally. Still, the bulging sack of. . . what smelled to be berries, along with the general sentiment of Lichthia's delay, made it hard for Tarik to cling to his frustration. The rat personally. . .would have had a hard time risking himself, trusting this deer not to step on him or toss him to the side. Even still, he wouldn't actually want the creature trapped. . . left there for a pack of wolves to (he'd cringe at the thought) tear him into pieces. And of course, what looked to be an. . . unthreatening (though large) cervidae, was certainly more comforting to see than a predatory eagle-owl. "O-oh. . . that's. . . that's good." The gray rat's head would look up, neck beginning to strait as the deer grew close. He'd certainly look a little intimidated by that towering form, his muscling tightening in reflex. "Um h-hello. . . Trent. . ."

"Hel. .lo. . ." the deer answered calmly, eying the fuzzy gray rodent. Unlike the mouse, he wouldn't seem to address the rat as 'little one'.

The mouse would take one more look about for dangers from her perch above, then smile down at the rat. "So how's Jack doin this mornin?" she'd ask. "He in the burrow?" As she spoke, she'd hoist her back up higher and hold onto her staff, sliding a leg over in preparation to dismount. "Jack's the bunny I told y'about," she' remark to the deer, getting ready to slide down.

Tarik was pleasantly surprised that Trent returned his greeting, and so kindly. The rat had attempted to address a deer once before; asked if they had seen any near blue-berries. The response wasn't a kind one. When rat gatherers of his colony, question other prey creatures where food might be, it was only met with success if the individual felt 'gain'. Typically the situation was akin to black-mail, a lead-gatherer implying they may otherwise reveal their location to the colony's hunters: That threat didn't work so well on deer. "Y-yeah. . ." the rat would answer, interrupted from his reminiscing. "Jacks inside, waiting for me. . . and you." Tarik kept his eyes focused, never looking away as Litchthia spoke. He was growing used to this deer, but it paid to be cautious.

Trent gave one final look over the rat, before feeling Lichthia move to his side. He'd look to her then, suspecting she was ready to get down. The patient buck, gently moving himself down, about as low as he could manage. When she made it back to solid ground, he'd stand tall as before, head lowered. Trent was no longer needed by the mouse, but wouldn't yet leave. Instead just watching the little rodents talk, blinking at the rat which was staring at him so closely. The deer soon flicked an ear, taking in the mention of 'Jack', and nodding at Lichthia's explanation. "Oh. . . yes. Rab. . . bit."

The mouse was all ready to jump down to the ground, when the deer crouched. She'd glance up and give the rat a smile, standing on her two feet. "Isn't he a gentleman?" she'd ask, glancing back up to the deer. She'd stand, setting her bag down for the moment. "Well we should go up and join him," she'd say softly, turning. "But is there anything else can do for you, Trent?" she'd turn to ask the deer. Brows would furrow as she thought. "I'm guessin y'knew in this area? Least haven't seen you before." She'd sigh. "I'd tell y'about other deer, but I don't really know any." As she spoke, she'd look over the deer, looking for any obvious markings or flaws, things she could tell Jaabir about, so he'd know to let this one go.

Tarik would blink at the display. He'd wonder if it was the stag that was behaving so well, or if the mouse had some sort of magical hold over it. She managed to tame a python, it even fell in love with her. And the owl. . . it carried her around just the same as this deer. And what about him? Was he under some hex that made him not want to eat meat or harm this mouse? No. . . no. This would be something the colony mystics would come up with. He'd turn away from the deer and nod to her. "Y-yeah. . ." The rat looked back, adding, "you. . . do seem. . . very nice."

The 'praise' was met with a small flick of the deer's right ear. "Thank you. . . rat." Trent thought the rat's behavior was odd just the same, but would slowly return the sentiment. "You. . . seem. . . nice." Trent's attention would focus then, on the mouse doe. He'd be silent for a moment, thinking. It was already hard to imagine the mouse helped him as much as she had. "I am. . . well." His smile lifted very subtly. "You have. . . done much. . . Lich. . . thia."

He'd nod then. "Yes. . . new. . . here. Start. . . new. . . herd." Trent would seem fairly unremarkable for a young buck. Rich brown light brown fur all along his body, and white underbelly. Tail was white, with a bit of black at the tip. And his antlers looked partly broken and chipped, seeming to have occurred before getting caught in those branches.

"More deer?" the mouse replied. "Oh that'd be wonderful." Her love was growing after all. If Trent would eventually bring a herd of deer nearby, that was another reason for the python not to prey on him, even if he weren't such a nice fellow. She'd glance over at the rat. "We should go n'keep Jack company," she said softly. "S'been a pleasure meetin y'Trent, I hope we run into each other again."

The rat's smile was a little less forced as the deer called him 'nice' back. His guard even began lower. Tarik gave a nod to Lichthia, "Y-yeah. . . we should. He's probably. . ." the rat paused, his eyes looking slightly to side. "worried."

Trent would give a calm nod. "Yes. . . soon." He'd look rather happy himself at still being around to start his family. . . though wouldn't know the mouse's own thoughts on the mater. The sage lowered his head, body moving down in a manner that could only be described as a cervidae-bow. "Good to. . . meet Lich. . . thia." He'd turn to the rat. "Good to. . . meet Ta. . .ik." Trent stood, turned, and clopped away. After a short distance, he'd look behind, and stare. "Good. . . bye. Thank. . . you." before continuing on his way.

Tarik gave a small nod, and slow wave, as the buck went on his way. He'd watch until the buck disappeared out of sight, before turning his head to Lichthia, just kind of staring, his expression still, uncertain of how to even react. His muzzle parted. "Um. . ." However, it quickly shut back, the rat not really sure as to what to say.

The mouse watched the deer depart, and as he disappeared from sight, she'd sigh and lean against her staff, smile fading. Suddenly, she'd look just a little bit tired. She'd turn to see the rat gaping at her, and that would bring a small smile back. She'd reach out to touch his arm affectionately. "S'good t'see you, Tarik," she'd say softly. Looking over her shoulder, she'd add, "He's a sweet one, don'cha think?"

The rat still stared a little blankly, breaking his gaze at her paw touched against him, looking down at it and back up. "Uh. . y-yeah. He. . . does seem nice" Tarik took a breath. "So um. . . he was caught in a tree? You found him when heading back from Jaabir?" The rat shook his head, sighing some. It wouldn't be clear if the sigh was directed at her, or himself. "I'd worry he would have trampled me, to even get close. . ."

The mouse smiled at that, touched. He was worried about her, wasn't he. "Well I was a little worried about that m'self," she'd admit. "I talked to him first, got him t'promise not t'move. He seemed like a good sort. Was a bit of a risk, but I wasn't just gonna leave him there for wolves or other preds to find, least not after he was willing to cooperate." The mouse would raise her paw to her forehead rubbing it, as though something troubled her.

Tarik lifted his head. Well, at least she was exerting 'some' caution. Then was she actually crazy, or just. . . brave? Not being one to do such things himself, Tarik couldn't help but be a little envious in some ways. As he heard her describe before, the mouse. . . just didn't feel fear anymore. And even if he didn't feel fear, would he have done the same? He wasn't sure, though he certainly did sympathize now with those who are were trapped, unable to move, and forced to quietly await for a predator to come and devour them. Though in the deer's case it would have been canines, or so he gathered. "T-that's good. I am glad he got free. Before. . . something came." The rat cringed.

Uncharacteristically, the mouse looked downwards, not meeting the rat's eye, almost as though she felt guilty for something. "I will confess," she'd admit in voice just above a whisper, "the thought did occur to me, it would be lucky for Jaabir if he happened to come along while the deer was stuck." The mouse would sigh and lift her head. "I did what I thought was right."

The rat stared then, noticing the mouse's change in expression. Was something wrong? He'd lean himself forward, an ear raising to listen. His eyes at first raised lightly, then grew. She. . . the deer. It wasn't just her feeling it would be 'good fortunate' for Jaabir. The mouse could have told him. It would have been just as he experienced, or, even closer now. The deer bound, being fed to the very same python he was offered to. Tarik's paw lifted, and came down lightly on the mouse's shoulder. "I. . . think you did." he'd whisper back, meeting her eyes. He'd just stare there, and rub softly. "I'm. . . glad you didn't glad tell him." The rat lowered his eyes, trying to consider things from the mouse's perspective. She let free. . . what would have been a large meal to the snake. The rat knew she was conflicted when, at least partly, when she helped free him from a similar position (though, in the rat's case, it was the mouse who bound him, not a tree). "That must have been hard for you."

Leaning against her staff, the mouse gave a small smile at the rat's agreement. She nodded and sighed at the rest. "S'hard when y'conscience is at war with y'heart," she'd answer. Her voice became a little strained as she added, "Jaabir's hungry. . . . He's as hungry as I've ever seen him." She'd give a small shrug. "And so, I am hungry too."

The rat smiled back to her, before soon frowning. There would be a slight nod, the rat attempting to understand her heart-ache. He couldn't know for sure what the mouse was feeling, but knew enough of life by now to know she was in pain, uneasy: The snake is her life, after all. "You only. . . saw him like that?" the rat questioned, his voice soft. He'd consider that, if it were possible for the mouse to reason how hungry he was by sight alone. "Did. . . he say anything?" Tarik certainly didn't approve of the mouse getting too close to the snake, certainly not when it was losing itself to hunger. Yet, he didn't feel the need to press that point, or chastise her. He just saw she was hunting, and wanted to understand. . . wanted to help. "You don't have to talk about it. . ."

At the question, the mouse would nod her head. At the assurance, she'd give a small smile. "Oh, I'm grateful to have someone to talk to," she'd answer. "Fact is, you might the only bein I know who could understand." She'd look upwards. "Y'like me," she'd say something she'd never imagined she'd say to a rat. "Y'got a foot in two worlds. . . both pred'n'prey."

Tarik would smile at that. "Yeah. . ." Just like the mouse, he felt a bond to her, though his was placed differently. To him it was a combination of their physical similarities, her kindnesses to him. . . and that as himself, she had endured and survived capture from a predator. He'd give a nod to her, ears turned inward to listen.

Licthia leaned against her staff. She gave a small smile in return for a moment, but then it faded. "Jaabir caught a chipmunk," she'd begin. "It turned out to be a nestling. Snuck away while his mother was out foragin or somethin. . . .didn't even know what a snake was." The mouse would take a deep breath; unlike Jaabir, she wouldn't keep the rat waiting for the outcome. "Jaabir let him go. . . .but it was a real struggle for him. Had to talk the chipmunk down so he wouldn't wriggle. It was touch and go, he even chased him after he fled, but like me, m'love did the right thing in the end."

The rat lifted a brow as the mouse explained, at first not sure what to feel, then beginning to frown. In Tarik's colony, creature's other than rats, didn't amount to much. Even their young, weren't really considered much more than meat that hasn't finished growing. Hunter rats bringing home a raided nursery of nestling mice, was considered perfectly normal. It was easy to catch them. It was a sizable amount of meat when many were taken at once. So why not? There wasn't any fretting over their age: Their breeders would make more after all. That's what Tarik's colony felt. But now. . . he was starting to see things differently. This mouse before him, and the rabbit resting in their near-by burrow; neither of them were rats, and he thought them equals. With that bridge crossed, a nestling chipmunk being taken wasn't much different. . . than a baby rat. Tarik's ears lowered, a frown on his muzzle and a tug at his heart.

He'd take a breath at hearing the serpent managed to let the young creature free. It was strange to feel such relief, such emotions, but. . . the fact remained that he now felt them. "That's. . ." he'd consider, "that's. . . good of Jaabir. For. . . trying. " Tarik blinked, feeling a little more respect for the python. Jaabir was clearly hungry, but forced himself back. That was considerably more than the rat expected. He smiled.

The mouse would smile in return and nod. "He did more than try, he succeeded." She'd swallow, looking down and nodding. "Though ti was close," she'd admit. "He's wracked with guilt about it, even though do nothin, xept give the nestling a scare, which is what he needed." She'd take a breath and her voice would crack, "He wants to hold me, and he doesn't dare. . . ." She'd swallow, her voice strained. "He thinks he's a monster. . . " The mouse wasn't quite crying but it was surely as close as Tarik had ever seen her. "And I wanna hold him and comfort him. . ." her voice would grow hoarse, ". . .and I can't."

Tarik nodded, a smile still bared. He thought maybe things were well. The snake resisted his urges. The mouse felt good about her own decisions with the deer. Everything was well now. Then. . . she spoke. The rat's ears drooped, head lowered, and tail curled. There were many times he had shown emotion before this mouse; the mourning of his brothers, fear in losing his life, but. . . he had never seen such in her. The most had been sympathy she shed for him, not a struggle of her own. Tarik didn't know what she felt, but he could understand. From the talks they shared, he knew Jaabir to be her world. To see him so hungry. . . so upset? How could she have given up the deer? How could she have given up. . . him?

The rat's gaze turned down. This was his fault. At least, he'd begin to take up that guilt. The snake's hunger and the mouse's separation, Jaabir's loss of reason and Lichthia's sorrow, none of it would have happened. She would be happy now, together with her 'love'. Even the rabbit would probably be more content, able to explore the snake's pond without fear. It was all because the snake hadn't eaten him, that others had to suffer. Tarik was still thankful, 'glad' he was spared. But just the same it weighed at him, to know his survival brought so much misfortune to others. And when the snake finally does claim a life, they would be his replacement. What if it ends up to be one of his family, a brother of his colony? It was the first time the rat truly such things, getting past the relief of not being the meal to the snake. . . or the cat. He'd go silent for a time, eyes slowly lifting. Was there anything he could do to help? Anything to make things right? He certainly, couldn't give himself to the snake, even with guilt it was too much to consider. And he couldn't imagine Lichthia wishing such either.

Finally Tarik felt the best thing he could do was comfort her. That itself was hard. He was a predator. Would the mouse even want his embrace? He'd sigh soft, and kneel himself to her level, reaching out two paws that came along her shoulders. "I-it. . . it will be fine. He'll find something soon." Even as the words left the rats lips, it didn't feel enough. It felt empty. He didn't know at all if the snake would catch something or starve to death. Tarik's eyes shut, and he'd lean in. "I'm sorry. . ." he'd whisper, his own eyes growing heavy, "for everything. . ."

The mouse, who'd been looking glum, would nod at the rat's reassurance, and raise her head in surprise. "You don't owe me no apology," she'd reply. "I'm real glad y'here. It helps t'have someone t'talk to." She'd raise a paw up to her forehead. "I mean I can talk t'Jack of course, n'he helps, cause he's pretty much a fuzzy bundle of love, but he doesn't understand. And Morathi. . . " the mouse would smile, almost laugh, "I'm not sure words like compassion and conscience are a part of his vocabulary."

The rat blinked slow, his own muzzle raising. He'd smile again. It felt good to know he was appreciated, needed. . . not a burden. Sometimes he thought the mouse's actions were usualy, crazy even, but he did respect her. It was her he credited with saving his life, even if it wasn't her intention. It meant much to him, to know she didn't regret it. It would take a moment before the rat spoke, cringing faintly at the mention of the owl; its visage uncomfortably filling his mind. "I-I'm. . . glad too." he'd reply.

Giant snakes, giant owls, giant deer. . . it was a lot to take in, but he was managing to endure the mouse's unique life-style. And if being there to listen was all she needed in return for her help, then he was more than willing. It wasn't just his life she saved, after all, she was also going to help get him back to his family. Back to. . . his colony. The rat looked off then. It was the first time that thought was met with anything but peace. Between his gathering duties, and dominance fights. . . would he ever get the chance to slip away? He may not ever see this mouse again. No, he. . . he could find a way surely. It might mean leaving the nest in secret. . . or breaking away from the other gatherers, but it was possible. The rat paws along Lichthia's shoulders would tighten lightly. "I'll. . . come visit you. . . and Jack." he'd nod with growing confidence, "when I go back."

The mouse smiled,, relaxing at the feeling of his paws on his shoulder. At his words though, she'd feel a twinge of regret. For the first time, it occured to her she didn't really want him to go. For a split second she considered making that thought plain, telling him he didn't have to go if he wished. The whole crazy scheme of atonement didn't really mean much, Jaabir would forget about it himself if she told him she didn't care. But then of course he'd want to go. He was returning for the benefit of his family after all, and if he didn't, well, she shouldn't tempt him. So instead, she just said, "Y'know you'll always be welcome in m'home." She'd lower her eyes then. "We should probably get back to Jack," she'd suggest.

Tarik smiled a little wider. Yeah, he had to find a way back. . . somehow. He faced a snake after all, and a cat. . . even came five feet away from an eagle-owl and avoided its detection. Surely he could manage sneaking off from his nest-mates. He could at least do that. . . for her, and Jack. They wern't his family by blood, but they were still family. "Thanks. . ." he'd whisper, his paws pulling away. He'd wipe at his eyes lightly, before his smile took on more of a slight 'smirk'. "I'd offer, but I'm not sure my colony would welcome you." His head lowered, "Not. . . the same way." He'd sigh softly, gaze turning to the burrow. "Yeah, let's head back."

The mouse would smile, and even chuckle at that, and even return the smirk, lifting her staff and trudging up the hil, peering around once more for any unsuspected onlookers. "Oh I think they might," she'd answer mischievously, ". .. once you've explained things to them." She'd walk upwards, her cheerful demeanor returned. "If not exactly welcome me. . . .then at least know well enough t'leave me alone."

The rat followed in behind, an ear raised. His stomach tightened. Could even she walk into a rat colony and come out alive? That couldn't be possible, could it? No, she'd die! "M-maybe. . ." The word was noticeable hesitant, and he'd give a sigh. How could she not see the danger?! Of course she didn't! She just got through riding in on a deer! Ooooh, he didn't even want to think about it right now. He didn't want to argue or convince her otherwise. . . he just wanted to rest.

The two rodents, walking side by side, would come to a woven clump of grass,. The rat would pull up, revealing an opening, holding there for the doe to enter. Tarik paused, looking around himself, admiring the surroundings of what he had so quickly come to call his home. He'd give a sluggish sigh, his expression weighted, before climbing in. . . sealing the entrance behind.

The mouse would accept the polite gesture, ducking into the den. She'd look back at him as she entered, a curious look in her eye. "You do know I'm jokin, right?" she'd ask. Her smile would widen. "M'not quite crazy enough to walk into a rat's nest." Turning around, she'd spread her arms. "Hey, Jack!" she'd exclaim, hugging the bunny tight, burying her head in his fur, often a sign she was troubled and looking to escape a bit from the world. "S'good t'be home," she'd mutter.