[SOLO: Blessing] Not that Kind of Doe [ Blush / Tidings ]

[Jun]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... uncert.png[/imgleft] Blush was not the kind of doe who thought of bucks as more than dalliances. She was not the kind of doe to swoon – she was not the kind of doe to dream. Blush knew what she liked, and she knew what bucks liked, and when the two aligned, it was an advantageous occasion.

This had been a year of firsts for Blush: she had met a handsome buck with a lush, feathered tail, quite by chance (she didn't quite remember his whole name), and that had caught – at last. The children were beautiful, one had his tail, the other his face, and she had been pleased. That the children were beautiful was proof of her accomplishments. She didn't quite remember his whole name, and she didn't have to – that was the kind of doe Blush was, and what she thought of bucks. That had been ideal.

But this one was different, and somehow, she hated that. She remembered this one – it was a short name. It was a short name, and she'd glanced at him for years.

For years; she hated that.

Blush was not the kind of doe who cared to know a buck, more than what she needed to know for an advantageous occasion. She knew he was good, and she knew he was gentle – she knew he spoke of stranger things, and picked about bones; she knew his moths on sight, and she hated that. She didn't know their names (that would have been too far), but she knew them on sight.
Blush was not the kind of doe who had an opinion on moths.
[imgright]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... uncert.png[/imgright]
Blush was not the kind of doe to be happy – at best, she was pleased. She was not happy – she would not say she was. Blush was not the kind of doe to glance at a buck for years, and be happy that it happened – at last. She was not the kind of doe to worry, about whether it would catch, and then, as her belly swelled, about how the children would be. That the children were beautiful – that was all that she would care. That the children were beautiful would be proof of her advantages. Beyond that – what else was there? She was not the kind of doe to worry, about how the children would be, and how he would like them, and how hence they would grow. She would not care about any of that, she was not that kind of doe.

Blush was not.

"Enough!" Tidings moaned, rolling around on his back in the cool marsh, in which he had groaned and floundered for the past three minutes, "enough, I get it, enough!

"It's not like you're happy or anything, and it's not like you care or anything, so it's not like you want a blessing or anything, but the kids will be great or whatever, so please just let me gohohohoooo…"

"Well," she said, primly, rising daintily from the rock on which she'd perched, "just as long as we're clear on that."

END