Sleepy Fox Hollow sonnenaufgang

all tags for ref! thinking it could be a sort of pack hunt/observation!

mahler took @Anselm with him that day, up toward the southwest. here there was a large pool of water bordered by several kinds of reeds and wetland plants. he snuffled deeply among the foliage, speaking quietly to his son of their names and variations and uses.
presently he raised his head. the scent of deer was upon the wind. he was not fit for a hunt without @Wylla, but perhaps, as with @Phaedra, he might show @Emmerich and @Isa the sights as well. "come along," he told the boy, heading into the nearby forest. "ve vill see what can be seen."

  Mahler could tell Anselm the name of every plant trifold -- it would not stick.

  His eyes were wide as his father lead him further from anything he had known. Anselm was a homebody in a traditional sense; his heart thrummed and his mind spun as he drank in new sights without the collusive presence of his siblings. Later he would brag in his childlike way to his siblings that Papa had taken him all by himself -- but for now he was too busy trying to look and smell and see everything the world had to offer.

  They approached a new forest. Anselm had never been here before. A thousand tantalizing scents wafted up to him. Some he knew from his time close to the stream. Others were titillating and new. Anselm trotted obediently at Mahler's hips, little ears working in overtime.

he led his son to explore snail shells and the casting left by a slug. he showed anselm squirrel pellets and chatted gaily about types of red birds which made their hollow home. 
and eventually they came to the deer, a beautiful fine young doe, who stood a scarce fifty yards from the man and boy and only blinked her dark eyes quite placidly, not at all afraid.
mahler settled himself. "your sister phaedra, ve vonce saw a stag. she gave him a name."
the wolf watched the doe, then glanced at anselm. "wie denkst du sollen wir sie nennen?"

Anselm was a walking study of childlike awe as he kept pace with his father. Each token of interest Mahler showed him was investigated vigorously. The snail shells nearly smooshed under the excited heavy breathing of Anselm's snuffling, investigative nose. The slug trail scattered by his clumsy feet. The birds riled by his long stares.

But then came the doe. Anselm was mesmerized by those broad, gentle eyes. They were nothing like the eyes of his parents or siblings. They were a deep brown, beautiful as fresh tilled earth after rain -- and so round they reminded the boy of the bright moon.

Anselm was not aware he had never stopped walking. He was pulled to this deer, unaware of his father's mention of Phaedra or the question of what the thing should be called. Each step brought him closer to the thing that by all rights dwarfed him -- each step brought him closer to being absorbed within those bottomless, round, liquid eyes.

anselm did not speak. mahler watched his son exchange this long moment with the animal. there was a great reverence about the child, the blissful ignorance of a wolf cub who does not yet know the blood and violence of the hunt. the innocence, then, of looking at one's prey and not yet comprehending the sense of enemy transmitted by your own presence.
it was imperative, mahler decided, that children understand from where things came.
and that they were also given their moments of deep and vast marvel around the natural world, and the growing comprehension that they too were part of it.
the gargoyle remained quiet.

With each step Anselm took, he grew more confident. The doe stood still, her long and flat ears the only movement from her body. Anselm was certain he'd rise to meet her, and yet when he crossed some invisible line meted into the grass the doe sprung on gracile heels and was gone.

  Anselm turned back to Mahler with a soft gaping mouth. He had not realized Mahler did not follow, and so trotted to close the gap with a swinging tail and a forlorn sense of failure rounding his shoulders.

wanna fade and have another? <3

mahler shook himself from this reverie. "sehr gut, anselm." the boy had not failed; he had shone his willingness to approach the unknown, even if dangerous.
he nosed the young ears with a gruff lovingness. "vhy don't ve go home and tell your mutter vhat ve saw today?" he suggested with a wry grin.