Huckleberry

The buck carefully made his way through the undergrowth, remembering his training. He felt unnatural doing so; this was not what a deer did, this was what wolves did. He suddenly heard a familiar voice -

"Yes, Calemvir, I did. Any one after Trar, Nacht, and Huckleberry." The dark buck's ears jerked up. An unfamiliar voice spoke next.

"Really? It's brave of you," he said admiringly. "To run like that."

It was Herla. I've done it, Huckleberry thought, I found the defectors.

He turned and ran, but tripped as he saw a small rabbit immediately behind him. The little animal looked up at him, curious. He stared up at the buck for three, four seconds, then the rabbit turned tail and ran. Huckleberry went on his way.

Bambi

"Bambi?" Clover gazed at the buck, hesitantly waiting for his answer. He was gazing toward the ground the two laid upon.

"Clover..." he sighed. "I think Faline and Herla's story has just scared you, that's all. You mustn't take this too seriously."

"Bambi," Clover said more harshly, "You don't get it, do you? That herd is close enough that we can be found!"

"I've made my-"

"Prince! Prince Bambi!" A rabbit ran up. He sat up, gazing at the deer. His wild entrance had attracted Calemvir, Campion, Salvia, Birch, and Herla. The group watched the little buck curiously. "I saw a deer earlier, and it wasn't like all of us. I've never seen him before, and I'd heard about the two new deer, and all that, so I felt this needed reported."
 

"What did he look like?" Herla asked immediately.

"Dark."
"Four points?"
"Yes."

"Scars, three under one eye, one over the shoulder?" Herla's voice quickened, and a sense of fear swept over the others.

"Yes..." The buck began shivering under Herla's sudden fear.

"Bambi," Herla slowly raised his head and looked at the Prince. "If you still have that spot open, I think I need promoted to Captain. Without me, Trar will wipe you all out. You need training, and fast."

"What-?" Bambi began, but Herla cut him off.

"Bring me your sentries, all of them. If they want to fight, they've got some training ahead. If not, they'll have their place as rangers. Tell me your rank system, show me who's who. We have some work to do if you want to protect your does, and I believe you do. Now, let's get started," his brisk mannerism immediately caused Birch to turn, running off. Calemvir had started to, but suddenly hesitated, waiting for Bambi's word.

"Well?" Bambi turned to  him. "Do as Captain Herla says, then!" He figured that if Herla was right, and Trar will attack, no one was better for the job - Herla was a very influential miltary voice, it seemed, demanding respect in a way, and likeable and easy to follow.

Nacht and Lihua

"How can I answer that?" Lihua asked, appalled. She had her plan - this wasn't part of it. Nacht was already turning against Trar... but in a fight, Nacht would win. She'd heard of his ruthlessness. She calmed from her panic quickly, knowing she would work this to her advantage. If Nacht usurped Trar, and she could control Nacht... This worked.

"Just do," Nacht said, with a respectful voice layered over demand.

"You," Lihua told him innocently, hiding her true intentions.

Bambi

 Herla walked up and down the ranks of bucks before him. Each had his own unique strengths and weaknesses. He had left Bambi nearby in a clump of honeysuckle vines, which had a few blooms left. Herla had decided it best if the prince had time to think of stradegies to help hold Trar's herd. "Well," he called over the ranks. He entoned his voice in a way that suggested he was not going to be their enemy in this, and he did not request anything but respect. "Let me start by saying you're all very brave. But let me warn you that you're all very likely canidates to die in this war, which I and Faline know is coming - and the most likely of you to die are those who do not want to fight." He paused and stopped pacing. "If you don't truely want to fight, there are other jobs for you. Step back now, for the sake of your does and fawns. I mean it - the creatures we are going to face will not spare you mercy. I promise you that. Please step back. I want to know who my warriors are, and who my rangers are." Several bucks stepped back timidly. Herla sighed as if he had been holding his breath, and called in a relieved voice, "Thank you. Go to the willow to see Birch and Campion - they will help you decide on a place and rank for you." The bucks walked off, heads still high, much to Herla's relief.

"The rest of you, I will have to teach to fight in groups depending on you. I see at least four bucks now - Calemvir, you have a fairly moderate body style with good lean muscles." He nodded at the buck, who nodded back, his head a bit higher in obvious pleasure that Herla had pointed him out. "But you - it's Fleetfoot, yes? - you, Fleetfoot, have a much, much finer-boned style to you. You're build to run, and I'm sure you do it well. I warn you that this means that you're at a disadvantage against many of Trar's bucks," He told the smaller buck, who looked a bit down-hearted at that. "Except, they're bigger, bulkier animals. You could match up to them well with good training - if the other is heavier, unlike Calemvir, you won't be able to just charge head-on and throw into them. You have to use that small, light-footed style of your's against him. He's heavier and slower. More about that later," Herla finished. "And you, I see..."

Bambi had stopped listening. All military. Surely there was a diplomatic way? But no, there couldn't be. He sighed, looking at Clover, who sat at his side as his advisor now. Salvia was away, resting, as she was very stressed and Herla had mentioned that stressed does tend to birth dead fawns. That had scared him - whether the fawn was his, Birch's, Campion's, or Calemvir's - he didn't want to see it dead. "Bambi, what d'you think we should do for surveilance?" Clover asked.

"Surveilance!" Bambi gasped. "Are you mad? The bucks and does would hate us for that. They'd feel like they couldn't get a moment of peace."

"But we need to be aware of possible threats. If anyone is suspicious, and might be a spy..."

"Remember the rabbit?" Bambi asked suddenly.

"Oh, yes. Did you ever find out his name?"
"No. But we could use other animals. Has a deer ever thought something of it when a rabbit, the same one, appeared once or twice?"

"Never," Clover said, her eyes lighting with understanding. "And they can't see a squirrel. Bambi, that's brilliant! Use the other animals!"

"Have someone go find that rabbit," Bambi told her. "Campion. He can't fight because his antlers are soft."
Clover stood up and ran off eagerly.

Trar

Huckleberry finished his words about a day after Herla's training began. "I see," Trar said darkly. "You found them."
"Yes," Huckleberry t old him. "I can take the guard to them."
"Yes, since they're already trained, let's do that," Trar smiled grimly. "They will be wiped out in moments."

-----

Soon, Trar had gathered his army, and stood upon the large boulder. "I'm sure you've all been informed about the mission you're all here for," he told them. "And I will waste no time. Let us go, then. Huckleberry will be leading you to the herd, and there you shall retrieve the traitors, Herla and Faline."

The large army moved off. Trar turned away and smiled darkly. This was his time. He would soon rule two herds.

Two, not one, but two harems next year.

Herla

"Captain Herla!" The deer turned, seeing that a small buck with six points was barreling down the hill into the clearing at an unbelievable speed. He seemed terrified.

"Yes, boy? Get hold on yourself! You look terrified!" Herla told him, bewildered.

"I am terrified," the young ranger told him. "We've caught wind of a large group of stags heading this way, sir!"
Herla's eyes widened.

"No," he breathed. He squeezed his blue eyes shut a moment and spun around, collecting himself, beating down the violent fear that rose inside him. He wanted to run, but fought it. It was like he was wrestling with a mountain lion. He rose his voice. "You've had a good enough amount of training," herla yelled. "I'm sorry to say we have time for no more. The best experience you'll get is real-life experience, and though I regret to say this is an early time, you'll have to fight today!"

Soon enough the bucks were in their places. The strongest bucks were in the open, lined to keep the oncoming deer from breaking through. In the trees, just behind them, hid the lighter bucks and the leaner ones, ready to jump in at impact: they had back-ups waiting for when Trar came.

And I shall be at the front of this all, Herla told himself as he stared onto the moor. He looked at the bucks to his right and left. The hefty twelve-pointed buck on one flank was called Oak, the father of two and buck of the beautiful doe, Rosehip. Earlier just that day the doe had paid him a visit with two very strong little fawns, and 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.