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Rue | Passing days

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Another one of these I never intended to do XD I was inspired by ~aliwababe's adorable sketches of fawnlings, but I'm obsessive, so I spent rather more time on it than I planned as usual. So it is still intended to be rough and loose with the lines not really lines but still sketchy.

That all said - I think this is one of my favourite pictures I've done of Rue. I don't know what it is, but I love how she came out. And Cully and the wallaby, Kuma. The Western Isles are giving me a lot of firsts; I can't say I've tried a Wallaby before, either :D.

On thing - Because Windborne terrain and climate is very much like Australia, I do pinch a fair bit of Australian wildlife for stories. Kookaburras, sugar gliders, Koalas, faerie wrens and now Wallabies. There is likely to be more XD.

:iconfawnlings:

Rusalka
Western Isles

Early Autumn, Year 754 of the New Age
Windborne, The Plains at the South of the Island




2 years ago

Autumn was rolling in again. Rue could feel it in the air. Summer's lazy breeze spirals were sharpening and rushing faster and lower across the kingdom of Windborne, carrying away leaves, seeds and summer sun without thought or care. But though the winds were changing, the land had not yet caught on. The earth was still soft and warm, the rivers still rushing along and the trees still green and proudly displaying their leafy burdens without fear they would soon be dying and carried away like they were each year.

Rue figured the trees must be very forgetful - if she were a tree, she'd sit on her leaves or hold them tight in her mouth so they couldn't be taken away every year.

At least, that's what she'd told Mother the year before. She'd learned a lot since that last autumn. The loss of leaves and the new ones each spring were simply the way of life - you couldn't hold onto a life after its time came; leaves just didn't live as long as Rue did.

The young fawnling looked up, blinking her large eyes open and yawning widely. The sun had climbed into the sky and it was a new day. Her earth and sand coat was cleaner and shinier than usual after a quick bath in the River Mor, when they crossed yesterday. It would soon be dusty again.

Today was a moving day. They'd rested by the river bank overnight and grazed the day before. Now they were moving across the open plains at the south of the island. The scouts had returned late in the evening, reporting there was a good resting place and not much activity. There would be little time for play today.

Well...little time for anyone else.

A sleepy chirp had Rue turning her head and lowering her nose so she could see her best friend. The tiny male faerie wren, Cully, worked a tangle into her mane each night so he could settle in the strands, against the warmth of her withers to sleep. He was waking now - blinking up at the sky and fluffing his feathers.

He had only been born earlier that spring, but Mother said that in bird standards, they might already be the same age, since they matured faster. They certainly got along well enough. Often male offspring in Wren clutches remained with the parents for a few years, helping with next years nestlings, but Cully's mother had allowed him to leave early and stay with Rue as they travelled, since one of his sisters was going to remain in the group. They'd been together ever since.

'Morning' Cully twittered, delicate bird song filling the quiet and stirring Mother from her sleep beside Rue. He stood, tail flagging madly for balance as he used his tiny talons to loosen the tangle of mane he'd slept in. 'Bright, isn't it?'

Mother hummed in amusement, looking over and yawning herself. 'It's early yet,' she explained in her usual, soft way. 'the sun is still low so the trees don't shelter us from it. We must get up, though; we need to drink and eat because we'll soon be moving on. Go ahead, if you like; just don't cross back over the river.'

Rue nodded, 'Yes, Mother.'

Cully clutched her mane tighter as Rue lifted herself to her hooves, flicking out her tail. She headed down the embankment, next to where the herd had made their camp, knowing the river wasn't far behind them. They would all need to drink and graze before setting off today if they were to be on the move until sundown. Rue glanced back once, to see Mother still curled at the base of a small tree - only Father had wandered to her, gently setting his muzzle over her own.

Rue had an easy relationship with Father. His brilliant pelt - made of sun and sand, woven to a dappled gold - was hard to miss, and the entire herd was fond of him and respected him, even the two younger stags who ran with them. Rue had never seen him lie with a doe other than Mother, though he interacted with them all fondly. The clear affection between them had made it easy for Rue to like him on principle, but running with him over the years, she had come to see that they were much the same. He kept his herd safe, but loved adventure and didn't tolerate argument. If stags wanted to fight, they had to walk away from the herd to do so. Rue would never be as close to him as she was to Mother, but she enjoyed his company.

Mostly, she liked the moments she'd catch him with Mother. It had been clear that the dark doe had longed for something in Rue's first year of life, and seeing them, it was obvious that she only had space in her heart for happiness these days.

Rue moved on, leaping into a lope as she spotted the sparkle of sunlight on the River a little way off.

'Whooo-Whooo' Cully whistled in typical delight, keeping his wings close so he wasn't buffetted from his perch. His tail madly zapping with Rue's stride, he remained with her through the undergrowth until she slowed up near to the River bank. The ground was still a little poached from where they'd crossed; paired-crescent hoof prints dotting the moist earth. Rue wound her way through the brush, keeping her tail high out of the mud and found a spot that was firm enough to support her as she drank.

Cully hopped up along her neck as she lowered her head to the rushing water, perching between her ears as he looked keenly around them. Then, with no warning-

'GRASSHOPPER!'

He plunged into the air faster than he could pelt plant seeds from his beak. Rue felt the faint weight press off her head, dunking her muzzle into the River. It was pleasantly cool, but it felt far colder as it rushed up her nose, and she reared back, spluttering.

Cully turned around on a small rock, half of his precious grasshopper trapped in his little beak.

'What?'

Rue shot him a dirty look and returned to her drink. They didn't stay long - Rue drank her share and Cully tracked down a few more unlucky insects, and then they hurried back through the brush to the camp.

All the fawnlings were standing, gathered around. Father nodded his head to her, eyes soft, before leading them past; heading for the River. Mother paused by her.

'See over there?' she asked, nodding her head at the horizon. The sun rose in the East and set in the West, so it was behind them, now higher and lighting up the world from where they stood in the sparse scrubland, all the way across the golden plains and made the ocean beyond burst in brilliant white where it touched the sky. Rue wasn't certain where mother meant specifically.

'Where?' Cully asked, bouncing on Rue's head. The far lighter patter of his feet didn't affect her in the slightest, unlike his lightning fast take offs.

Mother nodded again. 'The Plains. That's where we're headed today. But see where the grass still grows on the right? Stick to that bit - the brush provides shelter and when the tide comes in, the wind is harsh. Do not venture further into the wood, Rusalka, and make sure you don't go further than that Gum tree - see it?'

Rue did. The white wood stood far off across the open ground, stark in the light with branches trying to pull down the sky. The flat leaf canopy looked small from here, but Rue knew from experience that Gum trees were very, very large.

Rue started off, while Mother hurried to catch up to the herd. As the months passed, Rue had been encouraged to wander alone; mother nurtured her independence.

Cully took to the sky to stretch his wings while Rue skipped through the brush and found her way out to The Plains. The Wren caught a wind current and began doing tumbles and aerial spirals, twittering happily, but keeping an eye on Rue. His wings were too small and weak to keep him airborne for long, though, and he landed with a stumble on Rue's mane as she slowed to catch her breath some time later. The herd could be seen behind them now - grouped together and working down the same path.

Cully singing happily and Rue humming along, they returned to their fun.

...

It was a quiet morning - Rue kept pace with the herd, winding around them and investigating as Cully alternately hitched a lift or flew alongside her. Midday saw the sun reach the highest point of the sky, and the herd dispersed for a break, grazing at the tough grasses on the edge of The Plains. Rue could see Mother resting in the shade of the giant Gum tree she'd pointed out hours earlier. Rue stopped to eat and Cully dived around to find some more bugs and it was during their lunch feast that there was a strange noise.

Rue was startled to an abrupt halt. Cully sprang up her neck and slid down her face, almost falling off the end of her nose, eyes peeled for the disturbance.

The thicket in front of them was rustling, a shadow breaking through the leaves.

'Run?' Cully asked.

Rue didn't answer. She was going cross eyed trying to see around Cully's feathers.

And then a strange animal bounced out of the shrub. Rue leapt in surprise and fell straight over, legs sprawling around her. Cully only just managed to stay on her nose - but his tiny body swelled like a bullfrog, feathers around his face fanning out and wings half unfurling. He issued a sharp, warning Tzit, trembling on his spindly legs.

Rue was amused despite herself; she often thought Cully was under the impression he was quite a bit bigger than he actually was. His protective display was backfiring spectacularly as the dusty coloured Wallaby flyer curled her back and gazed up at him with bemused curiosity.

'What are you doing?' she asked of the little Wren. Her voice was a strange chattering sound; very different to the familar noise of a Sugar Gliders' speech.

Cully deflated, air whistling out of his beak. 'Was I at all scary?'

Rue, still cross-eyed behind him, tried to look at the Wallaby.

'A little,' the critter assured, plainly playing to the bird's insecurities.

'Oh,' Cully chirped, standing tall and fluttering to the ground. 'Good. Who're you?'

'Kuma,' she answered happily. 'My whole Troup lives around these Plains. You've been here before, haven't you?' she directed the last question to Rue, who nodded.

'Yes; Father brings the herd this way every year, and Mother brought me to the Plains when I was very young, too.'

'I've never been,' Cully offered. 'Are there more bugs? I'm very hungry.'

Kuma rocked on her heels, her thick, tapering tail balancing her. 'Oh, lots. Come on; I'll show you where!'

And she turned away, hurrying off with great leaps - both legs together - that carried her clean over the ground.

'Is she half bird, do you think?' Cully asked furtively, hopping back onto Rue's withers.

Rue tilted her head and started after Kuma. 'I don't think so. She's a Wallaby - Mother told me what they looked like, maybe she knows what they are, too.' Watching the flyer bounding ahead of them, Rue experimentally tried leaping with both hind legs together.

She tripped over her fetlocks and tumbled - Cully took off in a shot, hovering above her out of the way as she got to her feet again. 'Well I don't think she's part fawn,' Rue said sneezing around the dust she'd raised. 'I can't run like that.'

Cully landed again, when he was sure she wasn't going to tip over. 'We'll ask Mother later. But hurry; she knows where lunch is!'

Laughing, Rue hurried to catch up, galloping normally. Hopping was for birds and half-bird creatures.




Sorry for the insanely long story! But you seem to enjoy Rue's daily disasters, so maybe it's not a bad thing :D

And as an FYI - a 'flyer' is a term for a female wallaby. Other terms include 'doe' or 'Jill'. Male terms are 'buck', 'boomer' or 'Jack'.

Now, providing I don't discover more insane little stories, the next bit should be where Rue finally receives her heirloom, which prompts her to learn about her past. And then, soon after, we'll be in real-time.

Sort of.

Anyway, I said this was meant to be sketchy and loose and whatnot - but I love it anyway :D And its small (I seem to be good at using too small canvases at the minute) so Cully's not too clear, I didn't think. You can see his 'fan face' on his ref, though - this is just putting it into context. Its more funny than it is scary :p

A few hours
This photo for Kuma - [link] (because CUTE and I didn't have a clue how to start).
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xAcorn's avatar
Aww nice :D I love this so much!

Can my fawn be Rue's friend?