The trio stared down over at the scene before them. Trees still dusted with snow swayed gently in the breeze, and that cold, nose-biting smell of winter filled the air. The lake itself was barely disturbed, with only the faintest of ripples coming from a pair of Swanna floating gently on the surface. Cerys watched as Alan stepped closer to the water, just barely edging the bank. Rowe smiled gently and followed after.
The frost hadn't set in yet, but it quickly would. Basculin darted around under the surface of the lake, and would continue to do so after the top layer was frozen, but the Tympole busying themselves among the reeds would be in hibernation soon.
Cerys tore her gaze away from the lake and looked behind herself. The packed snow had preserved their hoofprints, she realized belatedly. A trail leading straight to them, should anyone think to follow it. Anything. She felt a wisp of genuine anxiety flutter through her mind.
Once the sun rose, there would be less danger. The stars were barely visible now, just faint white specks if she focused. Pink light was on the verge of breaking over the treetops. Soon it would be daybreak, and they would be free to watch the frost form as they wished.
“Aww, it hasn't frosted,” Alan complained.
Rowe laughed to herself. “I don't know what you expected. It’s not cold enough for an entire lake to freeze over yet. The snowstorm last week was over too quickly.”
“Lucas said it’d be happening soon.”
“He didn't say when, though, did he?”
“Not exactly…”
“Well, don't worry about it. We’ll get plenty of chances later in the season to see the frost.”
Cerys hummed, agreeing with Rowe. Once winter was truly set in, everything would be frozen. She felt they should enjoy the early part of it while they could.
Behind them, snow crunched as if under paws. Rowe whirled around, Alan following quickly, while Cerys turned her head as fast as she could without losing her balance. Red eyes gleamed in the underbrush. Even with the shadows and weak lighting, she could make out three dark gray figures facing the trio of Deerling.
Slobbering jaws, huge black claws, lean bodies. She heard Alan whimper. Rowe patted the ground as if to run, but the riverbank was slick with snow and silt. They were cornered.
The Mightyena advanced slowly, almost cautiously. As they stepped into the dawn light, Cerys could see the scars riddling their matted pelts, the outline of their ribcages, and she stopped breathing for a moment.
A Basculin breached the water behind her and was caught in the talons of an overhead Pidgeotto. The Swanna drifted out to the far side of the lake, contemptuous eyes staring in her direction. One of them tossed its head and looked away.
Cerys strained her ears, listening for hoofbeats, baying cries, anything to signal that her herd had noticed their disappearance. She heard nothing, though, nothing but the gentle patter of snow falling from branches and the heavy breathing of the hounds crouched before her.
“R-Rowe!” Alan cried. “W-w-what do we do?! There’s too m-many of them!”
“I-I—” the older Deerling stuttered, cowering with her ears held back.
The center Mightyena let out a rough snarl, stepping one paw toward them in the snow. Rowe put her head forwards again, ready to charge. As if she's big enough to take down even one of these, Cerys thought. Their approaching predators were weakened from starvation, but their fangs and claws were as sharp as ever.
It would take just a bite to the neck and a shake of the head and their trip to the lake would be completely over. Cerys felt her legs tremble a little, and pressed her hooves into the snow more firmly. Stand strong. That was what her mother had always said.
Composing herself as best she could with a trio of Mightyena to stare down, she looked between her partners and came up empty. Alan was knelt down in the snow with his eyes shut tight, and Rowe seemed to be a few seconds away from taking her chances and just drowning in the lake.
One of the Mightyena, the one with a missing ear, rasped out a laugh as it came closer. Cerys looked it in the eyes and bared her blunt teeth. Her attempt at a threat display did nothing to deter it, of course, and it opened its own jaw to reveal canines that she was sure were moments away from sinking into her friends’ hides.
Cerys couldn't let that happen.
What could she really do, though? Her parents’ advice had only been meant to apply to bullies. It was just supposed to be practice for when she was a Sawsbuck, not anything serious.
The situation was serious now, though. Her fellow Deerling were mere steps away from being killed, and she had to stop it somehow. Think, Cerys, think! There has to be a way to beat these Mightyena!
But there wasn't a way. Deerling couldn't defeat Mightyena, it was physically impossible. And Cerys was about as much a Deerling as she could possibly be—
One of the dogs lunged. Her eyes watched that powerful set of jaws as it flew through the air past her, followed by blazing red eyes and a gray pelt. The snow was speckled with crimson drops, and when she turned she saw that the Mightyena had latched itself onto Rowe’s left foreleg. It tossed its head from right to left, trying to rip her leg off at the joint.
Cerys felt herself go from stock-still to hyper with adrenaline. White stars danced in her vision as she let out a warning cry and took a few unsteady steps towards the Mightyena. Hooves slipping in the slush, she shook her head to try to clear her vision, overcome with sudden disorientation.
The Mightyena released Rowe and growled at her. Cerys ignored it in favor of trying to remain upright while filled with the urge to move in a body that felt somehow unfamiliar. One of the foes behind her approached warily, before jumping to attack her from behind. She kicked out with her hind legs hard, and heard the crack of bones snapping accompanied by a pained howl.
The Mightyena that had tried to kill Rowe now charged at Cerys, teeth aimed for her neck, and she instinctively lowered her head to catch it with her horns. Turning sharply, she smacked it several feet away into the icy-cold lake.
The remaining Mightyena backed away a few feet, uncertain, before turning tail and bounding into the woods. Cerys blinked several times in an attempt to clear her vision. Something was strange, but she couldn't tell what. Rowe looked up at her with wide eyes, holding her injured foreleg close to her body.
“W-what's—” Cerys cut herself off. Her voice sounded different. She cleared her throat and tried again, but the result was the same.
She looked at what she could see of herself. A thicker coat, longer legs… what? She wasn't anywhere close to evolution! But behind her, Alan stumbled closer to her side, grinning weakly. “W-wow! Cerys, you evolved!”
Looking between him and Rowe in confusion, she felt her jaw fall slightly agape. “O-oh.”
The warm morning sun sparkled white on the snow, dazzling the three of them. They walked back through the forest slowly in silence. Cerys felt as if she should speak up, but whatever words came out of her mouth wouldn’t have helped. She reflected on the changes all of them had gone through, and wondered if this was always what evolution was like.
The frost hadn't set in yet, but it quickly would. Basculin darted around under the surface of the lake, and would continue to do so after the top layer was frozen, but the Tympole busying themselves among the reeds would be in hibernation soon.
Cerys tore her gaze away from the lake and looked behind herself. The packed snow had preserved their hoofprints, she realized belatedly. A trail leading straight to them, should anyone think to follow it. Anything. She felt a wisp of genuine anxiety flutter through her mind.
Once the sun rose, there would be less danger. The stars were barely visible now, just faint white specks if she focused. Pink light was on the verge of breaking over the treetops. Soon it would be daybreak, and they would be free to watch the frost form as they wished.
“Aww, it hasn't frosted,” Alan complained.
Rowe laughed to herself. “I don't know what you expected. It’s not cold enough for an entire lake to freeze over yet. The snowstorm last week was over too quickly.”
“Lucas said it’d be happening soon.”
“He didn't say when, though, did he?”
“Not exactly…”
“Well, don't worry about it. We’ll get plenty of chances later in the season to see the frost.”
Cerys hummed, agreeing with Rowe. Once winter was truly set in, everything would be frozen. She felt they should enjoy the early part of it while they could.
Behind them, snow crunched as if under paws. Rowe whirled around, Alan following quickly, while Cerys turned her head as fast as she could without losing her balance. Red eyes gleamed in the underbrush. Even with the shadows and weak lighting, she could make out three dark gray figures facing the trio of Deerling.
Slobbering jaws, huge black claws, lean bodies. She heard Alan whimper. Rowe patted the ground as if to run, but the riverbank was slick with snow and silt. They were cornered.
The Mightyena advanced slowly, almost cautiously. As they stepped into the dawn light, Cerys could see the scars riddling their matted pelts, the outline of their ribcages, and she stopped breathing for a moment.
A Basculin breached the water behind her and was caught in the talons of an overhead Pidgeotto. The Swanna drifted out to the far side of the lake, contemptuous eyes staring in her direction. One of them tossed its head and looked away.
Cerys strained her ears, listening for hoofbeats, baying cries, anything to signal that her herd had noticed their disappearance. She heard nothing, though, nothing but the gentle patter of snow falling from branches and the heavy breathing of the hounds crouched before her.
“R-Rowe!” Alan cried. “W-w-what do we do?! There’s too m-many of them!”
“I-I—” the older Deerling stuttered, cowering with her ears held back.
The center Mightyena let out a rough snarl, stepping one paw toward them in the snow. Rowe put her head forwards again, ready to charge. As if she's big enough to take down even one of these, Cerys thought. Their approaching predators were weakened from starvation, but their fangs and claws were as sharp as ever.
It would take just a bite to the neck and a shake of the head and their trip to the lake would be completely over. Cerys felt her legs tremble a little, and pressed her hooves into the snow more firmly. Stand strong. That was what her mother had always said.
Composing herself as best she could with a trio of Mightyena to stare down, she looked between her partners and came up empty. Alan was knelt down in the snow with his eyes shut tight, and Rowe seemed to be a few seconds away from taking her chances and just drowning in the lake.
One of the Mightyena, the one with a missing ear, rasped out a laugh as it came closer. Cerys looked it in the eyes and bared her blunt teeth. Her attempt at a threat display did nothing to deter it, of course, and it opened its own jaw to reveal canines that she was sure were moments away from sinking into her friends’ hides.
Cerys couldn't let that happen.
What could she really do, though? Her parents’ advice had only been meant to apply to bullies. It was just supposed to be practice for when she was a Sawsbuck, not anything serious.
The situation was serious now, though. Her fellow Deerling were mere steps away from being killed, and she had to stop it somehow. Think, Cerys, think! There has to be a way to beat these Mightyena!
But there wasn't a way. Deerling couldn't defeat Mightyena, it was physically impossible. And Cerys was about as much a Deerling as she could possibly be—
One of the dogs lunged. Her eyes watched that powerful set of jaws as it flew through the air past her, followed by blazing red eyes and a gray pelt. The snow was speckled with crimson drops, and when she turned she saw that the Mightyena had latched itself onto Rowe’s left foreleg. It tossed its head from right to left, trying to rip her leg off at the joint.
Cerys felt herself go from stock-still to hyper with adrenaline. White stars danced in her vision as she let out a warning cry and took a few unsteady steps towards the Mightyena. Hooves slipping in the slush, she shook her head to try to clear her vision, overcome with sudden disorientation.
The Mightyena released Rowe and growled at her. Cerys ignored it in favor of trying to remain upright while filled with the urge to move in a body that felt somehow unfamiliar. One of the foes behind her approached warily, before jumping to attack her from behind. She kicked out with her hind legs hard, and heard the crack of bones snapping accompanied by a pained howl.
The Mightyena that had tried to kill Rowe now charged at Cerys, teeth aimed for her neck, and she instinctively lowered her head to catch it with her horns. Turning sharply, she smacked it several feet away into the icy-cold lake.
The remaining Mightyena backed away a few feet, uncertain, before turning tail and bounding into the woods. Cerys blinked several times in an attempt to clear her vision. Something was strange, but she couldn't tell what. Rowe looked up at her with wide eyes, holding her injured foreleg close to her body.
“W-what's—” Cerys cut herself off. Her voice sounded different. She cleared her throat and tried again, but the result was the same.
She looked at what she could see of herself. A thicker coat, longer legs… what? She wasn't anywhere close to evolution! But behind her, Alan stumbled closer to her side, grinning weakly. “W-wow! Cerys, you evolved!”
Looking between him and Rowe in confusion, she felt her jaw fall slightly agape. “O-oh.”
The warm morning sun sparkled white on the snow, dazzling the three of them. They walked back through the forest slowly in silence. Cerys felt as if she should speak up, but whatever words came out of her mouth wouldn’t have helped. She reflected on the changes all of them had gone through, and wondered if this was always what evolution was like.