Welcome to Gaia! ::

This day was an unusually cool one, for now at least, as the morning was still very young, and dew still brushed the just-browning grasses. Surely the thin blanket of fog lingering over them held some part in it, protecting them from the new rays only just peeking over the horizon, seeking to chase the droplets away. The mist would likely depart before long, when the sun cleared the edge of earth far in the distance, but presently there was a figure moving among it.

It would have been near impossible to discern from a distance, even moreso than most creatures enveloped by this blanket. This creature's pelt was a snowy white, and the fog concealed him well. He might have even looked ethereal to some onlookers, with the way the golden light filtered through it, encircling him in a thin, although temporary glow. If he were to look of some otherworldly being though, perhaps it was a Herla apparition. His antlers belied his form, with the way they sprouted proudly from his head, both strong and regal. Even through the still-dense mist, and despite the way his head was dipped to the earth below his hooves, this much was obvious.

He was browsing now, enjoying a quiet moment and a crisp snack in a day he was sure would be bustling before long. With Anlach in full swing, it was rare for Herla to find a moment's rest. Stags in rut would be filling the valley with their presence soon, the sound of clashing antlers ricocheting off the hills and trees by the end of sunrise. Many neglected their duties at times like these, and more still were not in their fittest state of mind. The herd's protection was at its weakest, and inevitably, Aldan took it as a need for him to work harder. The madness of Anlach had little effect on the duty-bound stag, at least for now, and he was happy to try and make up for the others' absence.

Just not right this moment. He looked up from his meal, lifting his elegant head as he chewed and scanned the area. Truthfully, there was no purpose in it; his blue eyes saw little more than unmoving shadows of trees through the thick white. His sense of smell and hearing were his defense here, and that alone had been the reason raised his head. One large, dished ear swiveled attentively, listening as much to the gentle chorus of waking birds as it was for signs of both danger and company.

Nothing but the shrill avian chatter and the soft kiss of the wind rustling fall leaves met his tender ears. Nothing at all, he mused, lowering his head to pluck once again at the morning blades. The realization disappointed him some, for he was an admittedly social stag, and he'd gone long without company. Anlach was always like this, he knew, and he understood its necessity. He would not begrudge Herne's will, but he did wish it wouldn't force him into isolation. Aldan looked forward to the day the valley calmed, and the competitive air dissipated, and all Herla returned to their everyday routine. He would have company then, at least, though he knew too it would take long for conversation to settle back into normality. For now, and weeks from now, all talk would be of harems and young. It was still competitiveness, he supposed, but it was at least conversation...

There was a soft, wistful sigh, nearly inaudible as it escaped the stag's muzzle. He then shook his head, reminding himself to find contentment in what he had, and to take pleasure in it. To enjoy his duty, for he would never wish to trade it for the alternative of herdlessness. Yes, that he could manage.

Finishing the last of his small meal, he lifted his head once more, and let his gaze wander aimlessly across the wall of fog before him as he thought. Well, as much as deciding which way to go could be considered 'thought'. It was perhaps more like he was mentally tossing a coin, with his right as heads, and his left as tails. Ahead were the rogue lands, and he was no scout, with no purpose there. The herd rested behind him, and its only need for him was out here.

It would have seemed the breeze saved him the trouble of deciding though. His nose twitched attentively, picking out a new scent amongst the gentle, misty smell of fog, and crisp, earthy tang of grass and leaves. Another Herla, he noted, swiveling his sculpted head to search for signs of it. When he caught sight of the tell-tale shadow from the corner of his eye, he turned more fully to face it, his form moving noiselessly over the brittle grasses. For a moment he judged it from there, trying to discern primarily things like gender. Rogue stags growing bolder and wandering into herd territory was not an entirely unheard of occurrence, particularly during Anlach, but they were not welcome here - especially not now.

This was no stag though, he realized, his ears rolling curiously forward. What was a hind doing so far out on a morning like this one? She must have known protection was exceptionally thin thanks to Anlach... Or perhaps she was here in spite of it, he mused. Surely some hinds desired refuge from the madness just as much as he. Likely moreso, actually.

Still, he was no rut-crazed stag. Maybe she wouldn't have minded the company, and if she did... Well, he did have an obligation to protect the denizens of this herd, and there would have been little he could have done to shield her from danger all the way over here. If she was indeed seeking isolation, hopefully she wouldn't hold his duty against him - he couldn't exactly read her disposition from here. There was only one way to find out though. Aldan moved to push himself toward her, his hooves gliding less than silently now. He hoped she would hear him coming; he had no desire to surprise. The light, regal step was obviously Herla too though - there were few in the forest who moved as gracefully as they did. With any luck, she wasn't so flighty the sound of it would send her running. When he was near enough not to shout, he offered a gentle "Excuse me," which trailed off into silence.

Well, she hadn't run at least. The hinds who drifted further toward the edges of the herd like this one did tend to be more bold than flighty, but one could never be truly certain. Still, he was glad for it. Conversations were difficult to have with retreating forms.

They weren't much easier to have with unwilling partners though, and the hind before him was certainly playing herself to look the part well, with making her first greeting to him that inspecting stare. There was a time when he was very young it might have discouraged him, but now he offered only a kind smile and a polite nod, his great antlers dipping with the motion.

With several more slow, regal steps, Aldan paused himself a comfortable distance off, outside the range more forward males might have during anlach. He was a stag of ideals and morals, and if his suspicions about her reservation were anywhere near correct, he intended to do what he could to ease her discomfort. And if he was wrong, well... He wouldn't be. A social hind had no purpose all the way out here. They were all huddling near their stags by now, with the hopefuls drifting aimlessly, wishing to be noticed. Still, he was also a being of great patience, and would cross that bridge if he came to it.

"Not sir," he started softly, his smile still curling his maw. "Aldan." Casting his eyes momentarily downward, the ivory stag bowed his head in greeting. "I expect not, unless you'd be willing to accompany me a moment. Simple conversation is difficult to come by at times like these." Surely she would know what he meant, but maybe he was assuming a bit much...

"I had actually come to ask you the same." Briefly, he paused. "But I hope you'll forgive me for mentioning it's not particularly safe here." This was offered conversationally, in a fashion which suggested he understood how often she must have heard lines similar, and how weary of them she must have been by now. It just couldn't be helped, perhaps as much a formality and a necessity as introductions.

Aldan was no fool though; he didn't press further. He didn't even venture to ask her name, but he did hope she would offer it of her own accord. The stag also dared to wish she would take him up on his offer of company, although he wasn't so bold as to hope. No, he turned his attention to their surroundings instead, his large ears swiveling attentively, ever-alert.

Indeed, Aldan was likely an Outrider of far too little recognition to be a name which came to mind. Not because he didn't tend his duty well, mind... But perhaps he tended it too well, leaving others little time to know him as more than the ghostly silhouette cresting the hilltops. The stag had little use for fame or pride though, and took no objection to his anonymousness. No, it was only his isolation he regretted from time to time, not at all unlike he had this morn, leaving him wishing for little more than some company.

She hadn't left him hoping though, and that was an acknowledgment he made with a genuine, warm smile. "True as it is, who am I to question Herne's will?" Bemused, he took a thoughtful pause and flicked an ear. "What are Herla without Anlach?" It was perhaps more of a rhetorical question than anything; he was only musing... Thinking Sgorr had once tried to abolish Anlach, and the Lore. He had tried to destroy their very way of life, and the storytellers would have them believe Herla were savages without them. Aldan, for one, believed them.

Past follies were hardly appropriate for introduction conversation though. No, not suitable at all. Who would want to discuss the mournful mistakes of old with someone who may as well have been a stranger? A soft, inaudible sigh escaped his muzzle as he forbid the contemplations from lingering in his thoughts. Fortunately, they had disturbed neither his expression, nor his tone. "Pleasure's mine, Ceris." He dipped his head one last time, though this was far more slight than those prior. More of a nod, really.

Then he saw that flicker of amusement. Of course she'd heard it numerous times before - he had after all expected as much. Did she wholly comprehend why she had though? Why the Outriders were so protective of their herdmates, and why there was so much concern for their safety? The dangers borne of their forest were no small matters.

Still, it was nowhere near enough to upset him. So long as she permitted his company in good spirits, he would tend to his duties and satisfy his want for conversation at the same time. Escorting her back to Home Oak against her will was only a last resort. "You think it that bad, do you?"

"Well," he started, turning away his crystal hued gaze to scan the area through the receding fog. "It's near time to start my patrol. If you are done here, would you walk with me?" As he finished his invitation, Aldan looked back to her, gentle curiosity in his expression. Truthfully, he would have to stay much closer to the herd if she accepted, but he would have been lying to himself if he had tried to pretend he minded.

Aldan had been referring perhaps more to politics than offspring. He had faith Herla would have reproduced with or without Anlach, and the herd would have lived on until tragedy befell them, but Sgorr... He would have had them procreate under unchallenged authority, without the liberty to try for Lord, and balance the flow of power. He would have had all herla live as one herd, and had tried to squelch all opposition. That was not Herne's way, and the stag could only dreadfully imagine what would have happened had he succeeded.

He hadn't, though, and his thankfulness for the opportunity to continue living as herla were intended let him take the near-insanity in stride. Aldan too looked forward to the days when the knocking clash of antlers faded from the air, and the hinds congregated together with their fawns, but he appreciated their lifestyle in the meantime.

"Well," he started, his smile widening at her surfacing kindness. "I suppose there is nothing I can say to convince you otherwise." And nothing she hadn't heard already, he was sure. For now, there was little for him to object to, anyway. He saved his polite chiding for a more appropriate time - this wasn't one of them.

Ceris's agreement made his head swivel back to his path then, and he started his course with a single slow, graceful step. "I'm glad for that. Shall we, then?"

Her following remark turned his attention back again. "I assure you, I can't protect the herd alone. There are others." Some were likely more willing than others, but they were there nonetheless. And while Aldan knew she hadn't particularly been implying they weren't, he was one to put purchase in credit where credit was due.