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Autumn, Year 736 of the New Age, Oakfern, Caves by the Moonpool

Final part of the Young Isk series There will probably be more art and stories of Isk's past, but there probably won't be any as long as this one x)

First - fav.me/d61m98e

Previous - fav.me/d6qgslm

Mindelan had helped him to paint himself.

He felt right again now; soft blue-ish light was reflecting back from the wet walls of the caverns and he felt neither burning pain nor foggy-headed numbness. He was tired, true, and his legs still ached from the punishment he had put them through but he felt alive again.
The time he had spent after he had killed the jaguar felt like some distant dream now. He had woken again in the shaman’s cave and felt newly born; he ached, yes, but his mind was his own. He could control his tongue and though it - and his ear - were both sore, neither throbbed or burned as they had before. He had control over his words again now too. She was to blame for that; though blame was the wrong word… to thank, she was to thank for that.
He would go to see her again, to thank her properly. That would have to be another day though. He had woken in the dead of night, it seemed; when he finally reached the Moonpool to report to his guard sergeant he was met by the night sergeant instead and told report directly to the Captain in the morning. His absence, it seemed, had not gone unnoticed.
It was not only the guard that had missed him, or so he hoped. Isk had decided in his long return to the caverns that he must see his son. His first fawn, his only child so far, the young Berach awaited. He was still sucking at his mother’s teat in the safety of the Moonpool and the shelter of the herd but what could you expect? He was barely half a year old. He was a fine young animal, or he should be. Isk was young to be a father but he was a father because he was strong and courageous and proud; the fawn’s mother was a powerful water mage and she could have had her pick of the stags if Isk had not chosen to fight for her. Berach would be strong in mind and body when he grew, Isk was sure.

Why he chose to fight for the doe now was of little consequence; it had been a year since that rut and the memories had begun to fog almost as soon as his antler shed. All he knew now was that he must be there to show his son what it meant to be Oakfern; to be one of the guard; to be a stag.
The season was affecting the young fawnling in a way that he would be able to recognise in his later years. Now, with the pride of his survival and the after effects of Mindelan’s healing, he did not. He was proud and strong and determined to show young Berach that this was how a stag was meant to be.

The fawn’s mother looked on him affectionately as he approached, but Iskanisk barely saw her. She was kind and soft, but she was from the past. He had eyes only for the sleeping child curled at her hip. Eyes only for the future.

%Fawnlings by *Ehetere , Iskanisk's original design by *Ehetere , Berach by *TigressDesign , story and art by =femalefred

Description
Autumn, Year 736 of the New Age, Oakfern, Caves by the Moonpool

Final part of the Young Isk series There will probably be more art and stories of Isk's past, but there probably won't be any as long as this one x)

First - fav.me/d61m98e

Previous - fav.me/d6qgslm

Mindelan had helped him to paint himself.

He felt right again now; soft blue-ish light was reflecting back from the wet walls of the caverns and he felt neither burning pain nor foggy-headed numbness. He was tired, true, and his legs still ached from the punishment he had put them through but he felt alive again.
The time he had spent after he had killed the jaguar felt like some distant dream now. He had woken again in the shaman’s cave and felt newly born; he ached, yes, but his mind was his own. He could control his tongue and though it - and his ear - were both sore, neither throbbed or burned as they had before. He had control over his words again now too. She was to blame for that; though blame was the wrong word… to thank, she was to thank for that.
He would go to see her again, to thank her properly. That would have to be another day though. He had woken in the dead of night, it seemed; when he finally reached the Moonpool to report to his guard sergeant he was met by the night sergeant instead and told report directly to the Captain in the morning. His absence, it seemed, had not gone unnoticed.
It was not only the guard that had missed him, or so he hoped. Isk had decided in his long return to the caverns that he must see his son. His first fawn, his only child so far, the young Berach awaited. He was still sucking at his mother’s teat in the safety of the Moonpool and the shelter of the herd but what could you expect? He was barely half a year old. He was a fine young animal, or he should be. Isk was young to be a father but he was a father because he was strong and courageous and proud; the fawn’s mother was a powerful water mage and she could have had her pick of the stags if Isk had not chosen to fight for her. Berach would be strong in mind and body when he grew, Isk was sure.

Why he chose to fight for the doe now was of little consequence; it had been a year since that rut and the memories had begun to fog almost as soon as his antler shed. All he knew now was that he must be there to show his son what it meant to be Oakfern; to be one of the guard; to be a stag.
The season was affecting the young fawnling in a way that he would be able to recognise in his later years. Now, with the pride of his survival and the after effects of Mindelan’s healing, he did not. He was proud and strong and determined to show young Berach that this was how a stag was meant to be.

The fawn’s mother looked on him affectionately as he approached, but Iskanisk barely saw her. She was kind and soft, but she was from the past. He had eyes only for the sleeping child curled at her hip. Eyes only for the future.

%Fawnlings by *Ehetere , Iskanisk's original design by *Ehetere , Berach by *TigressDesign , story and art by =femalefred