Last Witness
Last Witness hadn't quite expected fatherhood to come so soon, but when Haunt told him she was expecting he knew he would do everything he could do to help her, and his children.

That meant gathering supplies, and food, and appealing to the Motherfather's mercy -- because life, he knew, was hard. Harder than a newborn soul, so innocent, should have to bear. Yet he knew they would have to learn how. Perhaps, though, their lives didn't necessarily have to be hard. He hoped not. But if they struggled, he'd be there, at least... for a time.

"Please, if you're listening... guide them. I won't always be there. They're innocent. They don't know how trying the world can be, yet. I hope they never truly have to know. But if, and when, they do.... show them the way, if you can."

Perhaps such a prayer was in vain. What else could he do? He sighs, then turns back to the task at hand. Haunt would be hungry, he knew. Perhaps if he were able to catch her something.... 

Burning Bush
Burning Bush, on a whole, could be said to be a mirthful mare. She was rarely without a smile of some sort on her face. So when she overheard the somewhat-desperate pleas of a buck, it could be considered no surprise that a smile crossed her face. And stuck there. But it was the sort of knowing smile that suggested amusement at someone else's foolishness. Ah, she thought, the young never change. Always invoking the MotherFather with hardly an ounce of understanding at all. The doe unfurled herself from her owlcat form and languidly stretched. The stone below her was still warm from the sun. It had made a good napping spot, but now there was fun to be had.

"Innocence hardly guarantees anything at all," she drawled, "least of all help."

Last Witness

Startled, the buck stills and then turns toward the voice, only to find a rather shocking looking doe before him. He's never seen anything like it. Why... she appears to be covered in flames.

He recalls the stories his father used to tell, when he was a young foal. He'd thought them simple foolishness at the time. Bedtime stories for gullible little ones. Apparently he was wrong.

A wistful pang strikes him at the memory, laced somewhat with guilt for doubting his sire, and he blinks at the one before him. The mare. Blessed by the Swamp.

He supposes he should feel more awe, but all he feels is a sense of confusion and something a bit like surreality. Surely his plea hadn't drawn her, had it? His luck wasn't usually so good as that, if it could be called luck at all.

"Well....." He manages, finally, after another slightly squinted look at her flames. He shakes himself a little, "That's true, I suppose. The innocent are always being hurt and taken advantage of. I suppose that's why I wanted them to avoid it, if ever possible." He smiles a little, wistfully.

"Life is difficult, after all. And... strange," he's looking at her closely, again.

"You're one of them, aren't you? The Blessed, Lengendary..." he lifts a hoof and waves it vaguely. "I always thought it a myth.."

Burning Bush

She had long since grown bored of kin's reactions towards her. Invariably it was always A myth, a living legend! or You're on fire!. So she stood and waited and, by some miracle of the MotherFather, did not roll her eyes. If the buck had any sense then he'd find his tongue sooner or later and make a request. Whether or not he actually had something to offer Burning Bush in exchange was...a different matter.

Last Witness
Witness gets over his initial shock pretty quickly. It's not like the swamp isn't full of things just as strange as a doe who appears to be wreathed in flames. Growing up the way he had, travelling so often, had quickly gotten him used to the surprising, weird, and unexpected.

Even so, there's no denying there's something different about her. It's just a feeling, but a true one, and he's always trusted his instincts.

"I suppose if anyone could offer guidance, it might be one such as yourself? I'm not entirely sure how this works. I wasn't even expecting a reply, to be entirely honest." More or less he'd been talking to himself, though like any prayer, even those made by the suspicious and jaded, there was a kernel of hope in it that someone might be listening.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect anything for free," and he senses this doe probably isn't exactly the type to give away things anyway. "I'm not sure how much use it may be to you, but I have some healing herbs if you'd care for them?" He'd learned from his family how to tend them, and found the art of it soothing, though his garden was rather modest compared to others in his lineage.

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