[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/7HlmcQK.png[/img]
[h3]Slough and the Hunters[/h3][/center]

"My children, you have pestered me enough. I shall tell the story you demand." Takan sat opposite his five sons, nieces, and nephews in the the small mud hut. The only light that gave their story time distraction was the orange of the sunset. The children before him were of varying ages and sizes. One in particular had a fresh, glistening carapace, evidently celebrating his moulting day. All were quiet, ready for their elder to begin speaking.

"I still remember that moment like it was this very afternoon," Takan began, holding one side of his head to the children, "The day I saw the deer that was all of life at once. Indeed, it is a memory I have as seen with both of my left eyes." With one finger, Takan tapped the shell of his head next to his clouded over eye. He had lost sight in that eye for no real reason that anyone knew, apart from presuming a curse from the gods. "It was during a hunt with my brothers, Koyut and Miko, and one of my paramours, Qualoc. The sun warmed our shells that day with no interruption. As usual, we laid in wait to ambush game that was taking water by the pond. We were having no luck that day. The one pearskin cow that strayed from her herd was spooked by Old Man Chalk as he came lumbering through on his endless stroll. We all believed that we would be going hungry that night. That was when two figures came into view. Qualoc stayed my spear hand before I could hurl it, seeing the sight before I could know it."

One of the larger children excitedly nudged the recently moulted child in the side. "This is where [i]she[/i] comes in," he whispered just loud enough to attract mildly annoyed glances from the others.

"[i]Harsss...[/i]" Another child hissed for the excited one to hush.

Takan raised his hands, "Now, now. Settle." As Taken lowered his hands, he leaned forward slightly to the children before him. "Perhaps this can be a time to think, for what words I can muster may not carve a correct image of my memory. Tell me, children, when you think of life, what image is in your head?"

After a pause, one of the older children called out, "Animals!"

"Good answer," Takan gestured towards the speaker, but gazed to the others, "Any other things?"

"Plants?" Another child piped up.

"Yes," Takan confirmed with just as much congratulations. The way he still leaned forward suggested that there were yet more answers.

"Bugs?" Takan nodded to the answer. "Water?" Takan gave special attention to the bright child that made that suggestion, declaring "Very clever. There is no life without water, not even hain."

A longer pause lingered. Eventually one of the children said, "Food?"

Takan chuckled with good nature. "Yes, I suppose that counts too. Perhaps I might help you children this time. All that you have said is present where life prevails." Takan raised a finger, "There is one other element that follows life like a trail of footprints in the sand. Does anyone know what that is?"

The children glanced to one another with their large beak-like heads. No one had an answer.

"It is death, children," Takan explained in a lower tone, "All these things that have been said could be used to describe the Life-Deer, but none is more visible than death. Now, with more life comes more death, that is the way of things. Therefore, the Life-Deer, being so full of life, looked like the most dead thing that ever was. The inner-shells of its head, neck, and chest were all visible. Tufts of dull, mouldy fur held its spine to its other body-parts. Rotten flesh and organs seemed to grow and slough off where it stood. But it was living and walking. And the bits that fell off, well, they sprang into vibrant patches of grass, or swarms of bugs, or small animals. The Life-Deer's death was feeding life, and its life feeding death. On and on into eternity..."

"But father Takan," the freshly moulted child interrupted, "You mentioned two shapes, no?"

"That I did, Saon. You are clever to remember." Takan upturned his palm in the hain-equivalent expression of a smile. He turned to the others again and curled his hand into a fist. "The second shape was the Stinger-Lion. A vicious beast of teeth, strength, and magical roars. He is the Life-Deer's paramour and guardian. We did not know his nature until my brother Koyut decided to hurl his spear." The children collectively gasped, as they usually did at this point. "We do not know why he did it. Perhaps he was scared." Takan looked to the ground and seemed lost in the memory for a short while. It was clear by the way he ran his hand over the top of his head that it still made him nervous.

"...Father Takan?" One of the younger children asked meekly. This one had not heard the story before. "What happened next? Did Koyut hit with his spear?"

"Hm? Oh, no." Takan was snapped out of his reminiscing and resumed the tale. "Koyut's spear did not strike anything, because he never threw it. The stinger-lion knew he was there, and what he did will live on in my mind all the way to the returning stone." Takan's breath in was laboured, "The Stinger-Lion roared. He roared with such power that we had to cover our ears and curl up just to avoid our deaths. He roared with such volume that everyone within the horizon heard it. We got to cover our ears, but Koyut was not so lucky." Takan crossed his forearms and brought the sides of his flat hands to his neck, representing spikes protruding. "Koyut's blood sprang out in solid spikes, like a scab, but solid and large. He crumpled to the ground, instantly dead."

The children who had not heard the story before were trembling and reaching for their siblings for comfort.

"Our hearts all thumped on faster than even our panic would have done. We all felt incredibly, sickeningly hot. So hot that we began to feel cold in the sun. For fear of our lives, we laid still and shivered, but we did not befall the fate of Koyut. By the time we mustered the bravery to stand, the Life-Deer and her husband had moved on."

"Wait, I thought this story was about the Life-Deer! She has done nothing!" A smaller child was met with other disapproving looks for interrupting.

"Ah, but the story is not over, Tekauta. Let me finish," Takan said with a small laugh. "The Life-Deer was under no threat from us. She is godly and her husband powerful. She ordered the roar in her silent language and did many great things by it. Much about her nature could be described from it--far beyond simply animals, plants, bugs, water, food, and even death. For instance, we found that the roar had killed creatures that could not block their ears, giving us food for a long period, so much that we could not eat it all before the flesh became rotten and we had to burn them. A sympathetic act, no?"

"Sympathetic? Koyut was killed!" Saon complained. The others sniggered at Saon's ignorance of Takan's riddle. He had not heard the story either.

"Ah, but we were rewarded with our lives spared for being vigilant, no?" Takan responded, "Should that not be anything less but a trial from the Life-Deer."

Saon seemed increasingly confused, as did the other children that had not heard the story. "Huh? It was a trial? The Life-Deer did not just wander to get a drink?"

"Well, she perseveres like any creature of her spawning flesh," Takan said.

"So...it was both then?"

Takan shrugged, "Probably not. A wild creature is unpredictable, even one such as a goddess. It might have even just been there for fun and enjoyment."

Saon stamped his hand on the packed dirt ground. "Father Takan, you are making no sense! You keep bringing up things that aren't connected! What was the Life-Deer doing at that pond shore?"

Takan upturned both his hands and opened his mouth in what would be the widest grin he could have mustered as a human, if he knew what that was. "Have you not been listening, little one?" Takan said slowly and mischievously, "All of my words describe the Life-Deer's nature. If you do not understand, perhaps it is because she is simply ambiguous."

With a flustered groan, Saon gave up and leaned his head on one hand. "Okay, okay. What happens next?"

"Nothing. The Life-Deer moved on." Takan spoke plainly.

"Gah! Then what was the point!?" Saon felt angrier than he expected he would for his moulting day.

Takan angled his head knowingly, "There is little point to a song, no? Think of the story as a song sung by the Life-Deer. There are deeper meanings in it."

"Marvellous," Saon said sarcastically.

Takan reached forward and pat Saon on the head as if he had given the final answer. "Saon, my son, I think you are beginning to understand after all."