Herla had joked about being jealous of him. The ten-pointer on the other flank was a very dark brown buck named Pokeberry, though he had no mate or fawns.

But they could both die today.

And Herla knew that though they knew that, they were determined to fight to the last breath and would take a few of the enemies with them.

Soon Huckleberry came over the crest of the Moor hills, with Nacht and the other captain at his sides. A call went up and the charge came. "Ready yourselves!" Herla barked out, and the bucks prepared for the impact.

And it came.

Soon the battle began and Herla found himself locked with Clovar. The buck reared away. "Herla?" he asked, his eyes wide.

"Yes," Herla nodded. "Now go elsewhere so I don't have to kill you!" Herla swept around, connecting his antlers to another buck's side. He slashed feircely and the other wheeled around, bellowing painfully. He reared and slammed his antlers into Herla's, and suddenly the buck realized what was happening.

He's holding me so another buck can gore my throat.

And a strike came to Herla's side, knocking his breath out. He shook free and turned on the other, but the first buck slashed his other side. It was familiar to the buck: He'd faced two at once before, but their antlers hadn't been sharpened and they wer untrained.

But before him, the first buck was knocked in the side by another of Herla's bucks.

"Calemvir!" Herla cried happily. The other smiled and nodded, then went on to beat against the buck ruthlessly. Herla turned his attentions to the buck before him, and slashed at his throat. Before long, he ran. Herla looked around, but Calemvir was gone off to another fight, and he spotted Birch's pale coat quickly.

The buck was attacking another larger buck, but unlike what Fleetfoot would have had to do, he just charged and slashed and looked like death itself. He was wheeling around the buck's sides, crashing into them and tearing gaping holes before ducking around and goring the other side. Herla knew he had himself covered, and charged off.

Soon he met Bankfoot and simply locked with him before pushing him away and charging off toward a more willing opponent. This buck was large, but Herla was strong. He slashed the buck over the face, and the buck bellowed in pain. He was impeded by the blood in his eyes and Herla didn't hesitate to rear up and box his head about with his hooves, and eventually the creature ran off to find a less relentless target.

This all went on a very long time, it felt, and eventually, out of the kicked up moorland dust which blurred the contours of the deer around him, a large buck came charging, rearing up before Herla could do anything. Herla tried to raise his head, and the angle probably saved his life - but the buck's hooves came down, crashing into both of his antlers.

Suddenly the weight was gone from Herla's neck.

-------

The battle had raged on for over an hour, it felt, as Birch came to the clearing, flopping down. He breathed hard. "How many?" was not a question. The dead had been lined up. Desperate does with their fawns came rushing.

Among them was Rosehip. She wailed, crying. Birch buried his head between his legs. He couldn't stand the sound of such a beautiful doe's crying. There were maybe twenty bucks, all dead. Many more were injured. Campion walked over to her, trying to comfort her, but she ignored him. There were fawns, too, all crying in grief for their own father or that of their friends'. A few that were lucky were with their fathers. Birch sighed, searching over the ranks of dead for familiarities. And he found three, luckily not Herla.

Herla.

Where was Herla? He looked around and saw the buck laying under the honeysuckle masses, looking dejected. Birch heaved himself to his feet, bleeding heavily, and limped over. "Herla, what are you doing over here?"

"I don't want to be seen like this," he said flatly.

Birch frowned. "What? Come on. Get up, you're alive, and that's good enough."

After a good while, Herla finally got up, head still low, and walked into the clearing. Heads turned and the bucks quieted.

Herla's head was bare, except for the splintered remains of where his antlers used to be.