But for the first time that confidence was wavering, threatened by the swelling of her belly and the uncertainty that came with looming first-time motherhood.
As far as she knew, all of her family were wanderers.
Her mother had been somewhat attentive, at least until they could care for themselves, and then she and her siblings had simply wandered off their merry way. As for their father; he was almost a creature of legend.
She had met him, of course. Somehow he always found her, appearing when she least expected, on some far flung path. Sometimes they even travelled for a time. But they always parted ways in the end and she always stopped to look back. He’d never done the same.
It was if he had always been meant to be on the move.
To never stop, to never look back.
And the apple never fell far from the tree.
Because of her desire to travel, Born had never been interested in dallying with any bucks. Not until this one. That handsome buck of the brightest blue and gold. Like the desert of her dream with the sky above and the sand below.
Now she had to deal with the consequences of falling prey to desire.
“I am Born For This,” she repeated.
“Are you?” An amused voice questioned.
She was so startled by the sudden voice she nearly dropped to her haunches.
“Oh,” the masucline voice said as she spun to face them, “my apologies. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The speaker was a tall, handsome buck... no, stag with flowing red hair, glowing eyes and a smile that suggested he wasn’t at all apologetic.
Born For This had always sat with perked ears and bright eyes when her father had spoken of the Swamp’s chosen but had never met one herself. For the first time she found herself tongue-tied and awkward, her confidence withered on the vine.
“What are you born for?” He asked.
“Ah,” she squeaked before a cleared throat allowed her to produce actual words. “That’s... that’s my name. Born For This.”
“Do you normally stand around reminding yourself of your own name?”
Embarrassed heat rose on her cheeks.
“I was... reassuring myself. It’s a mantra.”
“Oh! I see. Lovely!” He chuckled softly. Her cheeks deepened in colour.
His head tilted, expression softening with thought.
“I can offer you more reassurance,” he said.
She stared at him blankly.
“I can bless your unborn children.”
He knew? Of course he did. That’s why he was here.
It made her breath catch in her throat. His presence was suddenly terrifying. There was no going back. She was going to have offspring whether she liked it or not.
And then what? Did she stay and raise them? Leave them? Could she leave them? Should she try to find their father? She hated making decisions other than which way she should travel. Her life had been so much better when it had been oh so simple.
“Please,” she gasped.
The stag hummed thoughtfully.
“Breathe. In and out. Think of the blue sky and long stretches of land, the trees and the ground beneath your hooves.”
She did as he asked, deliberately breathing so that her breath stopped catching so much in her throat.
“All will be well. They will be blessed. May they be born with a purpose and to never falter, healthy and happy.” The stag leaned in close, their eyes meeting. “Remember, you were born for this.”
She sighed out an extra long breath. Happy. That was good. So no matter how she messed it up, at least they would have that.
He took a step back and seemed to shrug.
“And if you don’t want to raise them, find The Mother’s Club,” he told her, with an arched brow. “You’ve got time to decide.”
Time. Yes, she did have that.
She’d just have to make the most of it.