Finding the Fawn Again

After the incident, Mill-wheel took me around the place where the rattler had bitten Pa and where the fawn was seen in the bushes. I didn’t want him to see it, I wanted it all for myself. I made the excuse that the brambles would be too thick for the horse we were riding on to go through and that I could trudge on myself. Mill-wheel reluctantly left, impatient to help his mother and father with the ill Fodder-wing. As I tip-toed through the scrub, I realized just how far Pa and I had gone into the woods. I began to underestimate myself, wondering if we really came all this way. Then a buzzard approached, noisily flapping its tiny wings. It flew over to the carcass of the mother doe, covered by the black scavengers. I threw my bough at them, they dispersed. I went over to the scrub where the doe jumped at us. No fawn to be seen. Sulking, I walked further down to where the fawn had appeared before Pa and me. I crouched, laying on my belly and peering through the scrub. The fawn looked back at me with its wide black eyes. “It’s me,” I called lowly. I slowly inched my way, closer and closer to it, until I sat next to it, petting its lusciously soft fur. I was so afraid I would scare it, or it would gallop away on its wobbly hooves. I wrapped my arms around its torso, letting the legs limply hang as I stood. I walked toward the dead carcass. I stopped myself, thinking the fawn would bleat and kick at the sight or smell of its mother. I turned around, bracing myself for the thicket of twisted, entangling brambles. Every few times they would wrap themselves around the fawn’s dangling legs and I tried to carefully remove them without injuring my precious fawn. After what felt like hours of trudging through the thicket and brushes, we reached a trail that was clear of the prickly vines. I continued trotting on the trail, the fawn bouncing in my thin arms. If it weren’t for the weight of the fawn, I’d hold it all day long. But when we came to an intersection in the road, I settled the fawn on its hooves and keeled over for breath. I was so tired. I sat back up, still breathing heavily from the long stride. As I stood back up, I noticed all the pearl spots on its back were in a line. I had me a male deer! I excitedly stood up, dreaming we were at home, romping and playing together, laying under the stars on cool July nights. Maybe my dreams were coming true! The fawn bleated, irritated from being put down. I stared into his black eyes angrily. I just needed a breath. Then I remembered Pa saying that a fawn will follow anyone who picks it up. I treaded a little ways, and the fawn began to slowly tremble toward me. I hurriedly walked back so he wouldn’t fall and hurt himself. I picked him back up and finished on home, wet with sweat but cool from a refreshing breeze. I immediately went inside and showed Pa. He looked amazed that I had found the fawn, it almost seemed he was proud! Ma came in, and Pa spoke sternly to her about not grudging with the fawn. Her mouth opened to speak, but she remained silent. I anticipated what she was going to say, but she closed her mouth and left the room. I was surprised at Pa—he was always there for me, wrong or right, but this was different. I had never seen him talk that way, especially to Ma. It was a pleasure, seeing everyone almost comfortable with the fawn. I was really excited now! A new journey and my first pet, what would be next?