Anyone near enough to see the interactions between the doe and stallion were likely to be settling back with a bottle of soda and the largest bag of snacks and popcorn they could get. Settling down into a comfy chair, it had to be a scene that would remind others of reality tv. "And on Today's Episode of The Life and Trails of Cally and Coy let's see what happens when . . ." Of course, this wasn't a tv show, and the two where far more akin to strangers than reality tv co-stars. And at the moment they were mere moments from going at one another with claws outstretch (or hooves).
The interactions were steadily growing darker and more heated between mutual notices of miscommunication, natural agitation, and a refusal to see the situation from the view of one to another. For Cally, she'd accidentally ran into someone, and was quickly verbally attacked (after apologizing profusely), and then further words flung at her in a way she saw as hurtful and accusatory. It grew to insulting when she was referred to as some odd creature, causing her to bristle. It didn't help that it was a barb deep in her chest reminding her that this wasn't a natural form, and certainly not for her. Magic, foreign magic had twisted her being and locked her own magic away, corrupting her into a reflection she couldn't recognize as her own.
This foreign magic had trapped her into an unknown body (her magic just barely managing to lock her into a half familiar form in the process before it was trapped and unable to be touched by her), the foreign magic had then acted so far as to displace her into a foreign land with out any way home, or any knowledge of where she was, and the culture of the area. For a deer turned horse, trapped in a world of horses, it was a culture shock, a whole different set of rules that she had no reference book for. Gone were her days as a deer travelling through forests and caves, and visiting the main city in The Thicket. Gone were her friends and her herd. Gone were her neighbors, and traveling companions. Gone was everything she had known.
And left in place? Nothing but a laughable half creature, a hybrid that every time she looked into her reflection she saw as odd, extreme, not her. She was used to transformations, but this was a transformation too far. She wasn't herself, she wasn't what she might have been recognized by . . . But she didn't need someone to casually ask what manner of creature she was, like she was some monster or oddity more fit for a freak show. A doe that already had some intense self-confidence issues from belittling and bulling of her own mother who refused to believe her daughter was perfect the way she was Brown is such a boring color, I'm going to town but I can't bring you. Stay in and do your lessons, no one wants to be brought down by such an ugly little fawn. You're best for being tucked away until you develop some colors. I'll be back by dusk. Do NOT go outside, or go into the forest. Even now with her color in her, she was still so brown, so boring, so ugly. So simple. So . . . . No. Her mother had no reach here. Certainly not in another plain of existence!
But the stallion, whether he knew it or not had touched a nerve. Still she had to recognize that perhaps she was expecting much from a stallion who was likely jolted awake in what must have felt like a sudden attack. But she had also apologized! Right away! Even asking if he had been alright. Not that her words had mattered those first few moments, instead he'd been so quick to accusing her of marring and wanting her to pay the bill of it. As if no blame should be put on the male for choosing a horrible spot for a nap. Her ears flicked down either way, her gaze turning away from him in irritation and awkward admittance that she might be a bit irrational and rude at her questioning his ability to use his brain. She frowned at the accusation that she had wanted to murder him but widely chose to not respond to his words this time, it didn't seem to be doing her any good at the moment anyways.
It was at that point he'd pointed out he had seen no evidence of a terrifying creature other than the tiny thing infront of her - and she immediately interrupted, her voice high pitched and upset; and pointing out exactly what had upset her about his question earlier, "I'm not a thing! I'm a deer! A deer! . . . or, I'm supposed to be okay! I'm not a thing." Her ears were pinned in distress as she refused to look at him, her agitation heavier from a wide variety of different emotions this awkward and slightly hostile interaction were producing. She flinched visibly when he seemed to shout about her stabbing him, to which she hotly responded, "And I apologized! Immediately, if you don't remember from your distress at how you had to look." She sneered in annoyance, "I certainly don't make a habit of 'stabbing' others upon first meeting." She snapped.
It was then he began to freak out over him being called fat, to which the little doe actually looked confused for the first time, ears splayed out and head tilted in the signature 'deer caught in the headlights' look her original species was famous for, "I didn't . . . " It clicked, and she blinked almost in shock, before she couldn't help it, a startled laugh left her, as her ears flicked briefly up, "Fat head, it refers to a large ego? Do you horses not have turn of phrases like that?" She asked in confusion - however, it was the first moment that she began to wonder how much of the anger and volatile interactions might just be from misunderstanding after misunderstanding. Of course that thought was wiped from her head when he once again mentioned he had no idea what in the world she was, "A DEER! I AM A DEER! I don't care what this world's stupid magic twisted when it ripped me from my world, but I AM A DEER." Her words were occumpanied by tiny stomps of each cloven hoof, "Say it with me. I. Am. A. DEER."
Even if she looked like a hybrid from the magic trying to twist her into something that would be met with a bit more acceptance here. She hated it, she didn't look like herself. She knew she was being petty and hurtful at this point with each response she gave, but she felt each blow in return and felt justified. Of course, when he referred to her as a mutated shrew she flinched back verbally as if he'd struck her, her eyes wide and suddenly uncomfortable as she glanced down at herself. Instantly she'd shrank back into the darker shadows of the cave opening, her mother's words reinforced in her head, No one wants to look at brown all day, if they did, they'd stare at the dirt. Get out of my sight until you're something nicer to look at. She didn't respond to him this time, and her large doe eyes were focused firmly off of the stallion.
At this point she felt like she just wanted to leave the entire situation, and there was a growing likelihood that her own Court might be seeing the small figure out in the open far more less than typical. The deer had just felt a sharp stab of a reminder of just how boring and unfit for appearing around others . . . a mutated shrew, was she really that displeasing, that . . . strange . . . . She knew she wasn't normal . . . but a mutant . . . no, maybe that was right. The magic had tried to make her more equine, her own magic had struggled to keep her a deer, the two had locked her in a half horse - half deer form, surely that was the definition of a mutant right there . . . Oh good heavens, she was a mutant!
The interaction was with out a doubt the worst Cally had ever had, and she finally decided to end it, instead declaring she was going to get out of the situation, she had even turned to head back into the shadows, the cave, the exploration she was intending to have when she set out that day. His words were thrown into her back like throwing knives, claiming a stream to be better company, stating she to be uncivil, not giving her name, insulting instead of like-ale. Her tiny, delicate legs seemed to shake as each comment tore through her being, and slowly his words, his voice were twisting inside her mind, more feminine and familiar, more haunting and berating. Some lady you are, can't even take you into civil company, you'll just roll in the dirt and look like a mongrel child! Why can't you just be a normal child, a good child, instead of such a horrible little brat. No one will ever like you if you act like that Callynite. Your own father ran away with out you, he grew tired of your horrible behaviors. Go to your room, I don't want to look at you. You can leave when you're ready to be a good girl, again instead of such a horrible little fawn.
Cally violently shook the voice from her head, tears at the corner of her eyes as she stared straight ahead, blinking the back until the darkened the edge of her dark cheeks but were no longer visible. She wouldn't let him see her cry, and she waited until the evidence was gone except from a slight sheen to her eyes before glancing back at him at the mouth of the cave, her tiny form made so much smaller against the massive amount of darkness around her. It outlined her shape, that deer luck more visible from the distance, down to the tiny stub horns near her large deer ears. She stared him down for a moment, her smile bitter and emotionless, "Like you said, you might as well find better company than me . . ." She glanced back at the cave, letting her voice trail out behind her as the dark swallowed up, "Callynite. My mother named me Callynite," The phrasing was off, stating what her mother had named her rather than what she had been called by her friends and her father, but she wasn't comfortable just giving him that treasured nickname. No, he sounded just like her mother, let him call her what that doe did too . . . It wasn't likely she'd see him again anyways. He'd already expressed his distaste. As she moved deeper into the cave, the tears started to fall more freely, no longer held back to hide them from him, and though no sound left her as she silently cried, her heart and fragile self-confidence at the twisted form magic had given her visible crumbled from any that watched the little doe move through the cavern darkness.
Speech”
@Huehuecoyotl
The interactions were steadily growing darker and more heated between mutual notices of miscommunication, natural agitation, and a refusal to see the situation from the view of one to another. For Cally, she'd accidentally ran into someone, and was quickly verbally attacked (after apologizing profusely), and then further words flung at her in a way she saw as hurtful and accusatory. It grew to insulting when she was referred to as some odd creature, causing her to bristle. It didn't help that it was a barb deep in her chest reminding her that this wasn't a natural form, and certainly not for her. Magic, foreign magic had twisted her being and locked her own magic away, corrupting her into a reflection she couldn't recognize as her own.
This foreign magic had trapped her into an unknown body (her magic just barely managing to lock her into a half familiar form in the process before it was trapped and unable to be touched by her), the foreign magic had then acted so far as to displace her into a foreign land with out any way home, or any knowledge of where she was, and the culture of the area. For a deer turned horse, trapped in a world of horses, it was a culture shock, a whole different set of rules that she had no reference book for. Gone were her days as a deer travelling through forests and caves, and visiting the main city in The Thicket. Gone were her friends and her herd. Gone were her neighbors, and traveling companions. Gone was everything she had known.
And left in place? Nothing but a laughable half creature, a hybrid that every time she looked into her reflection she saw as odd, extreme, not her. She was used to transformations, but this was a transformation too far. She wasn't herself, she wasn't what she might have been recognized by . . . But she didn't need someone to casually ask what manner of creature she was, like she was some monster or oddity more fit for a freak show. A doe that already had some intense self-confidence issues from belittling and bulling of her own mother who refused to believe her daughter was perfect the way she was Brown is such a boring color, I'm going to town but I can't bring you. Stay in and do your lessons, no one wants to be brought down by such an ugly little fawn. You're best for being tucked away until you develop some colors. I'll be back by dusk. Do NOT go outside, or go into the forest. Even now with her color in her, she was still so brown, so boring, so ugly. So simple. So . . . . No. Her mother had no reach here. Certainly not in another plain of existence!
But the stallion, whether he knew it or not had touched a nerve. Still she had to recognize that perhaps she was expecting much from a stallion who was likely jolted awake in what must have felt like a sudden attack. But she had also apologized! Right away! Even asking if he had been alright. Not that her words had mattered those first few moments, instead he'd been so quick to accusing her of marring and wanting her to pay the bill of it. As if no blame should be put on the male for choosing a horrible spot for a nap. Her ears flicked down either way, her gaze turning away from him in irritation and awkward admittance that she might be a bit irrational and rude at her questioning his ability to use his brain. She frowned at the accusation that she had wanted to murder him but widely chose to not respond to his words this time, it didn't seem to be doing her any good at the moment anyways.
It was at that point he'd pointed out he had seen no evidence of a terrifying creature other than the tiny thing infront of her - and she immediately interrupted, her voice high pitched and upset; and pointing out exactly what had upset her about his question earlier, "I'm not a thing! I'm a deer! A deer! . . . or, I'm supposed to be okay! I'm not a thing." Her ears were pinned in distress as she refused to look at him, her agitation heavier from a wide variety of different emotions this awkward and slightly hostile interaction were producing. She flinched visibly when he seemed to shout about her stabbing him, to which she hotly responded, "And I apologized! Immediately, if you don't remember from your distress at how you had to look." She sneered in annoyance, "I certainly don't make a habit of 'stabbing' others upon first meeting." She snapped.
It was then he began to freak out over him being called fat, to which the little doe actually looked confused for the first time, ears splayed out and head tilted in the signature 'deer caught in the headlights' look her original species was famous for, "I didn't . . . " It clicked, and she blinked almost in shock, before she couldn't help it, a startled laugh left her, as her ears flicked briefly up, "Fat head, it refers to a large ego? Do you horses not have turn of phrases like that?" She asked in confusion - however, it was the first moment that she began to wonder how much of the anger and volatile interactions might just be from misunderstanding after misunderstanding. Of course that thought was wiped from her head when he once again mentioned he had no idea what in the world she was, "A DEER! I AM A DEER! I don't care what this world's stupid magic twisted when it ripped me from my world, but I AM A DEER." Her words were occumpanied by tiny stomps of each cloven hoof, "Say it with me. I. Am. A. DEER."
Even if she looked like a hybrid from the magic trying to twist her into something that would be met with a bit more acceptance here. She hated it, she didn't look like herself. She knew she was being petty and hurtful at this point with each response she gave, but she felt each blow in return and felt justified. Of course, when he referred to her as a mutated shrew she flinched back verbally as if he'd struck her, her eyes wide and suddenly uncomfortable as she glanced down at herself. Instantly she'd shrank back into the darker shadows of the cave opening, her mother's words reinforced in her head, No one wants to look at brown all day, if they did, they'd stare at the dirt. Get out of my sight until you're something nicer to look at. She didn't respond to him this time, and her large doe eyes were focused firmly off of the stallion.
At this point she felt like she just wanted to leave the entire situation, and there was a growing likelihood that her own Court might be seeing the small figure out in the open far more less than typical. The deer had just felt a sharp stab of a reminder of just how boring and unfit for appearing around others . . . a mutated shrew, was she really that displeasing, that . . . strange . . . . She knew she wasn't normal . . . but a mutant . . . no, maybe that was right. The magic had tried to make her more equine, her own magic had struggled to keep her a deer, the two had locked her in a half horse - half deer form, surely that was the definition of a mutant right there . . . Oh good heavens, she was a mutant!
The interaction was with out a doubt the worst Cally had ever had, and she finally decided to end it, instead declaring she was going to get out of the situation, she had even turned to head back into the shadows, the cave, the exploration she was intending to have when she set out that day. His words were thrown into her back like throwing knives, claiming a stream to be better company, stating she to be uncivil, not giving her name, insulting instead of like-ale. Her tiny, delicate legs seemed to shake as each comment tore through her being, and slowly his words, his voice were twisting inside her mind, more feminine and familiar, more haunting and berating. Some lady you are, can't even take you into civil company, you'll just roll in the dirt and look like a mongrel child! Why can't you just be a normal child, a good child, instead of such a horrible little brat. No one will ever like you if you act like that Callynite. Your own father ran away with out you, he grew tired of your horrible behaviors. Go to your room, I don't want to look at you. You can leave when you're ready to be a good girl, again instead of such a horrible little fawn.
Cally violently shook the voice from her head, tears at the corner of her eyes as she stared straight ahead, blinking the back until the darkened the edge of her dark cheeks but were no longer visible. She wouldn't let him see her cry, and she waited until the evidence was gone except from a slight sheen to her eyes before glancing back at him at the mouth of the cave, her tiny form made so much smaller against the massive amount of darkness around her. It outlined her shape, that deer luck more visible from the distance, down to the tiny stub horns near her large deer ears. She stared him down for a moment, her smile bitter and emotionless, "Like you said, you might as well find better company than me . . ." She glanced back at the cave, letting her voice trail out behind her as the dark swallowed up, "Callynite. My mother named me Callynite," The phrasing was off, stating what her mother had named her rather than what she had been called by her friends and her father, but she wasn't comfortable just giving him that treasured nickname. No, he sounded just like her mother, let him call her what that doe did too . . . It wasn't likely she'd see him again anyways. He'd already expressed his distaste. As she moved deeper into the cave, the tears started to fall more freely, no longer held back to hide them from him, and though no sound left her as she silently cried, her heart and fragile self-confidence at the twisted form magic had given her visible crumbled from any that watched the little doe move through the cavern darkness.
Speech”
