[Aethyrr]

I'M HERE TO ADOPT A FAWN!
Username: klovesugar2
Three Coat Colors:Perlino
Bright Bays
Axis DeerPreferred Antlers: Either red or elk, if you'd please.

This little fawn has red antlers, is male, and was born in October. He's actually really cute x3. In order to keep the fawn, you are required to complete quest 1-7. If you complete through 10, he grows, if not, you can keep him as a fawn.

[Bayfire213]

Show Name: Promise Me Peace
Nickname: Dove

Quest One: Making Introductions

He was such a little thing, she mused, staring at the gangly legged youth before her. The color of palest autumn grains and frosted wild grasses in winter, with deep, dark chocolate eyes, staring up at her in nervous fear. Her heart melted, staring at the young fawn that by all rights should have an unhappy mother braying at her and snorting, protective and maternal. Keeping the stranger away from the precious little one, who she just knew would grow into a handsome little heartbreaker. Heck, he was already a handsome little heartbreaker, for her heart balked of the thought of leaving here without him. She'd sign the adoption papers right away. Then do everything in her power to bond with and comfort the little one, so that when a checkup was done to see that the fawn really had found a good home, no one would see a reason to take him away. Rehome him. See her ghosting through the stables, numb, because already he was as precious to her as the elderly, gentle, patient mare she planed to pasture him with.

Slowly, she moved to kneel on the ground before the fawn. Making herself smaller and letting her soft gaze avert slightly in the hopes of easing his discomfort, if only somewhat. Admittedly, it was probably a bad idea, or, at least, it would be if she were dealing with a horse. Horses she was familiar with, though she wouldn't dare call herself an expert. In normal circumstances, she probably wouldn't do something like this, but the poor sweetheart was afraid. He wasn't a curious foal who might lip, bit, or kick her, not knowing any better. He was a twiggy little thing who might as well be shaking like a leaf, for all the terror and apprehension he broadcasted loud and clear for any who cared to listen to hear. He was afraid, and right now her main concern was setting those fears to rest.

A low hum escaped her, soft, light, and warm as any lullaby. The words themselves remained unspoken, for he'd have plenty of time to grow tired of her caterwauling later, and her cheeks warmed doing even this much in front of the stablehand. Yet the fawn didn't seem to mind her surely abysmal musical attempt, his ears pricked forward and some of the fear leaving his eyes in favor of a curiosity which saw a thrilled little smile to her lips. Lyrics tickled her mind as she repeated the tune, twice then thrice more, watching with a warm gaze as the orphaned fawn gradually relaxed in her presence. It wasn't trust just yet, there was still a wary edge to his eye, but it was enough for her to hope that this would all work out perfectly. Yet as all songs were wont to do, her humming eventually had to end, and it was her turn to be nervous and anxious and somewhat terrified, though the emotions were promptly repressed, lest the fawn catch on and his own distress return with a vengeance.

"I don't suppose you'd like to come home with me, little Dove?" His head raised a little higher, ears flicking at the soft tone that was nevertheless different. It was the first she'd actually spoken in front of him, and thus it was new, and odd, and strange. Yet there was no coldness to her tone, no sharpness nor malice, and after a moment's consideration in which she all but held her breath, he settled again. A beaming grin stole across her features, even as she slowly rose to her feet again and the faintest touch of alarm returned to his dark eyes. It was still less than what it had been at first, and while she wasn't sure how long she'd been crouched there, oblivious to all but the precious little one before her, it was progress. It was caution and wariness, and alarmed apprehension, but it wasn't fear. She'd sign the papers, and they'd see just where the wind would carry them.

[Bayfire213]

Quest Two: Heading Home

There wasn't much for it, she knew this would be a difficult task. Foals would balk and squeal and pitch a fit about this, right up until their dam walked into the trailer, just as pretty as you please. Then, and only then, would the giant metal deathtrap which clacked and echoed against their hooves like an ominously cackling hyena become anything else. Then, and only then, would they clamber in themselves. Yet what was she to do with, not a foal, but a fawn, with no mother to speak of? No creature he trusted wholeheartedly to lead him into the trailer, encourage the thought that the trailer's gaping steel maw wasn't going to eat him? By this point, she was almost at her wits' end.

First, she had tried to lead him in. If she didn't make a big deal of it, and acted like it was normal to be in a large, semi-dark, metal box on wheels, perhaps he'd feel a bit more reassured about entering the trailer. No such luck though, her dear Dove having balked just before he would of taken the first step onto the ramp. No problem, she was fine with letting him take a moment to lick, sniff, and chew on the ramp. Letting him investigate this suspicious thing a little more closely, at his leisure. Only, he didn't want to investigate the trailer. He didn't pitch a fit either, but that would of almost been easier to deal with than what actually happened. Her sweet Dove had simply stated that no, he wasn't getting in the giant metal deathtrap, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He dug in his hooves, and stood there, docile as a lamb, even as she carefully applied a bit of pressure to the lead in an attempt to coax him on. No dice, the fawn wasn't budging.

She'll admit to attempted bribery, cutting up the pear she'd brought with her as a part of her lunch, since the trip here and back would be quite a long one and she wasn't a fan of fast food. She'd sliced up the sweet, juicy gold fruit, and set a slice down on the edge of the ramp where the fawn could easily reach it. Let him try the new food, and find it to his liking. Then another piece, where he had to stretch a bit to reach it, which was also swiftly gobbled up. Then she'd put one where she'd thought it would be just out of reach without him actually stepping on the ramp. Only, she'd underestimated how long a determined fawn's lips could stretch. He got that piece as well. Though as soon as the pear slices were actually out of his reach, he'd made this most pitiful face with a low bleating noise, and she'd crumpled in short order.

Her little Dove got the rest of the pear without ever setting a hoof on the ramp.

She wasn't about to chase him up, wasn't going to drag him on, wasn't going to force him into doing anything. It was a surefire way to break what minimal trust she'd managed to garner, of the I-don't-think-she'll-eat-me sort. Yet what could she do? Leading him on was a bust, bribery had failed, and it was already a couple hours into a different strategy of sitting in the trailer and waiting for the fawn to decide just standing there was boring. She still held the lead, and he couldn't wander far from the trailer, despite its length. With a sigh, her head rolled back to rest against the trailer wall, eyes slipping shut. If he didn't want to get on the trailer, what could she do? She wouldn't force him, but if they were going to leave, they needed to do so before it got too late. Already the sky was beginning to darken to dusk, and she'd rather not arrive home at daybreak if she could help it. If she did that, then she wouldn't be getting any sleep at all, and would be running on fumes come tomorrow. Eyelids heavy, she didn't even realize she fell asleep until her eyes opened again.

When she woke, it would be to a dark nose and pastel face in her own, curiosity having overcome the initial refusal.

[Bayfire213]

Quest Three: Settling In

The gravel crunched under her boots as she led her little Dove towards the stables, where his own stall was already prepared. She hadn't known when she was coming back, or even if she would actually have a fawn with her, so there wasn't any food or water waiting, but a bed of soft wheat straw had already been lain out. Her Dove would be nice and comfortable as she scurried about preparing a bottle for him, because the poor dear was sure to be hungry by this point. Sure he'd had a pear before they left, but that wasn't the most filling of meals, and he was still in that teetering weaning stage. He still wanted and likely needed milk, for the extra calcium if nothing else, but he was willing to try things, and able to consume soft foods.

He followed beside her, eyelids low and drooping as he fought off the sweet, seductive, siren's song called slumber. She wasn't surprised, it had been a long day for the fawn, after all. For both of them, really, though she was perhaps a touch more used to such things. Her footsteps were nevertheless heavy as they made their way down the gravel path, down to the stables. There wasn't any paint, chipping, peeling, or otherwise, but the treated wood was old timey and rustic in its allure, and that suited her just fine. Yet details she knew by heart were obscured by the night, and a drowsy fog veiled them from her mind at the moment. Muscle memory, if anything, was what allowed her to keep to the familiar path, and allowed her to fumble around with the keys to undo the lock on the doors. Then again, as she slowly pushed open one of the large double doors keeping the occupants inside safe from weather and intruders. Not that there were many occupants at the moment. Despite there being six rather roomy stalls, plus a tack room and wash stall, only one was occupied.

In the third stall down on her left side, there was an old, bay mare whose light doze had been interrupted by the weary duo's entrance. A delicate head peeked out over the stall door, warm brown eyes alighting upon the pair as a low whicker welcomed them home. Because even if the human and horse were the only ones to consider it home at the moment, it was now Dove's home as well, for as long as he wished it to be. Sage, as the mare was known, was a gentle soul she just knew would help her little Dove settle in seamlessly. Which was why she smiled at the fawn's suddenly pricked ears, and tired but ever so curious gaze as he stared at the much bigger creature welcoming him so easily into their tiny herd. She would almost say her sweet Dove was mystified by the maternal mare as she led the dear little fawn closer, and closer, until they were both standing right outside the only occupied stall.

A velveteen muzzle reached down to brush against the fawn's own, a warm gust of sweet, alfalfa smelling air ghosting across Dove's much smaller face. His eyes slipped closed at the puff of wind, only to lazily slip open again when the mare moved to lip at the short fur between his ears, investigating the beginnings of his to-be antlers. He blinked up at the retired trail horse, now too old to bear any weight upon her bony, swayed back, and despite her own weariness, the watching human smiled a soft, slight little thing unnoticed in the dusken gloom. Sure she'd likely be exhausted come tomorrow, but the two could take however much time they wanted before she herself slipped away for the night. They were both near and dear to her heart, after all, and it warmed her a great deal to see the two bonding like this.

[Bayfire213]

Quest Four: Bonding

Laughter fell from her lips in unbridled peals, wind snatching at her hair in impish delight. Her long strides carried her across the pasture just as swift as could be, accompanied by a young gangly little thing. Her dearest Dove, matching her pace in a clumsy lope all his own, much to her amusement. The bag in her arms shook and crinkled with the sound of treats being tossed about inside as she darted across the lush grass. Sugar cubes and molasses flavored horse cookies, they had swiftly discovered were the fawn's favorite treat. From her favored spot under an old persimmon tree, Sage watched the two bolt and bound about the pasture in an odd game of keep away. It was good to see them both in such high spirits.

To think it had started with a tentative offering, which had swiftly shifted into a pushy nose trying to swipe a few more treats, and devolved into such a childish game. Wise brown eyes watched as her human stumbled, falling to the ground with a surprised oomph. Black tipped ears pricked towards the sound, an ever passive observer as the fawn descended upon the young woman and, consequently, the bag of assorted sweets. Breathless laughter rang out, clear as a bell, as the curious young fawn lipped at their human in hopes of finding even more delicious things to munch on. The mare snorted, quite content to let the two young'uns play together, even as playful cries for mercy reached her ears.

Really, the fawn needed a playmate, and she was far too old for that task, much as it pained her to admit. She wasn't quite as spry as she used to be, but she could still put a foal, or fawn, in their place should anyone get too uppity. Too big for their britches, as the saying went, not that she felt the need to worry about this particular little one. Dove was a sweetheart, as far as she could tell, and was finally starting to relax around them and come out of his shell a wee bit. A good thing, so long as nothing got too out of hand.

Really, her human had brought this upon herself, and besides- it was far too amusing a show for the old mare to intervene.

[Bayfire213]

Quest Five: Grooming

Dust drifted in the air as steady strokes whisked it off of pastel fur, a gentle breeze carrying it away from the trio. Open doors bathed them in sunlight and birdsong, though the caterwauling of the geese could hardly be considered such. It was tranquil and serene, despite the northern birds' best efforts, and her dearest Dove was half asleep under her tender ministrations. The young fawn leaned into every stroke, dark eyes half mast with languid pleasure, an ear twitching every now and again as the outside sounds were heard and promptly disregarded. The world could spin on however much it wanted to, because right now they were all but frozen in time, savoring the other's presence and the comfort they derived from each other. A gusty sigh displaced the chilled air, her little heartbreaker practically putty in her hands, seemingly boneless as he relaxed into her touch.

Was this really the same, skittish creature she'd met a month or so ago? It hardly seemed like it, the change was so drastic. Yet he had settled gracefully into their little family, finding a friend in her, and a mother in Glade. He'd discovered that he liked sugar cubes and an assortment of horse cookies, and had grown into his own. No longer did he shrink and shy from the shadows, but bravely waded through them if his curiosity or need was strong enough. He frolicked through the fields and broke away from the retired mare without a second thought, finding a love of the wind which the arthritic old horse simply couldn't keep up with. He'd remained stubborn and kind, but was now fleet of foot and free as could be, a bird on the wing most of the time. No matter how much he stumbled at times, her dear Dove had yet to admit defeat, racing the wind with everything he had and savoring the crisp air. Sometimes, it almost seemed as though he really was flying across the ground, a far cry from the clumsy thing he'd been before.

She could already see a phantom of the buck he'd become, and she would never regret adopting him, no matter the worry his antics sometimes inspired.

[Bayfire213]

Quest Six: Groundwork

Well... This was a new one. Biting her lip in a futile attempt to fight back the smile threatening to bloom across her face, she watched her darling fawn try to figure out what he had just stepped on. His ears swiveled about, uncertain, even as bright brown eyes peered closely at the wood beneath him. A teeter totter, a large one previously used for horses back when she could still ride Sage in pleasure and trail competitions. The elderly mare had never had a problem with the obstacle, even in her youth, and had only sniffed at it for a few minutes before breezily walking over it, no problem. How long ago was it that she entered local competitions and watched her opponents' mounts freak out over things her own ever unflappable mare didn't bother to bat an eye at?

However long it might've been, she was fairly certain none of the horses had done this. It began as one might expect, her lovely little Dove pausing after the first hoof hit the wood with a clack. He pawed at it, a steady drumbeat as he tested it, then lowered his head to sniff at it, lick it, and chew on it. Once he was done with all that, he walked across it with some hesitance, ears pricked and swiveling as his hooves clacked against the wood. Then he reached the middle, the tipping point, and the structure shifted beneath him. So swiftly did he attempt to backpedal, that her darling Dove ended up tripping over his own gangly legs, resulting in a rather stunned fawn sitting on his rump on one end of the teeter totter.

He might not of been amused, but she most certainly was.

Then, rather than getting up, his head stretched out to sniff at the point he'd previously been, forelegs splayed in a bid to remain as close to the wood as possible. He stretched, and stretched, until his front hooves slipped, and suddenly he was laying on the teeter totter. Dark brown eyes blinked up at her shaking form, suppressed snickers still escaping her, and the mirth in her own gaze undeniable. He huffed at her, a soft, irritated puff of air, and she giggled all the more as he made to stand only to slip yet again. As graceful and fleet of foot as he'd become, moments like this reminded her that he was still just a fawn, despite coming more and more into his own.