Cedar Sweep On your own time.

The man comes up nearby, brushing against her slightly; it makes her nervous, knowing what she's been taught about strangers by her parents - and by those faithful to the High Elk. His pale coat proves to Zephrine that his parents had done something egregious in their lives, and so he is tainted.

She helps him in this quest to hunt because it benefits her - but also to help him redeem himself, as the High Elk has stripped him of color, and she believes everyone deserves redemption. If he can attain it through putting in the work, it gives her hope for herself.

They're both standing and waiting for a sign; noses trembling, mouths open to taste the trembling air, ears pivoting to each sound. Zephrine is staring at the gap in the trees where that flash of red-brown had been, and then the man is striding away from her - towards that gap - and when he pauses, motioning to her, she takes the lead.

Careful steps. Alert to everything, so close to deer-like in that moment herself. As close to the High Elk as she could fathom of herself, all faults considered. Then there is a crack in the stillness and she tilts her head, takes one small step, and launches in to a run. Around a copse of trees over a small pile of discarded branches, through fern, they tug at her coat but she doesn't care; the smell of maple everywhere, the bite of pine needles against her pads. Zephrine doesn't know when the man falls away to her periphery but she doesn't care, she's wholly focused on the shape bounding before her.

The doe radiates vitality as she leaps and careens, seeking solace while the wolves close-in behind her.