Abandon had grown fond of the Cres- in particular, a certain buck. One who had proven uncommonly charming. Flirtation had given way to indulgence, had given way to some... peculiar circumstance. Hunger had taken hold of the massive totoma ram after a week or so, and, rather than burdening the fishers of the Cres, he had retreated to the swamp.
The hunger had not let up, and only grown, as his belly swelled slowly.
He had spoken to a wise old ewe on her way to the Cres as he was on his way out, worked out that the swell and writhing in his belly had been
lambs, or maybe foals, and taken himself elsewhere to contemplate his situation.
He had contemplated too long, because, not long after he had had five little bundles of his own. Two lambs, three eggsacs. A conundrum, since he had no idea how to handle those. Somehow, he had managed not to bungle it, his lambs had grown strong, and the eggsacs had torn themselves open for the most part. If he had helped a little, none would know but he and the MotherFather.
He had ushered, then, his blind foals and the sturdy little lambs back to the Cres, carefully. His serpent helped keep them close, keep them safe. Fed on anything that would have eaten them, but foals were so, so delicate, and lambs were foolishly brave. So he lead his herd onward, until the trees thinned and he could smell the ocean.
With a grunt, he settled the young down by a patch of grass, bade the serpent lie near them, and began to seek.
He had not had to go far.
Brother Shark appeared to be resting in the sunlight. Which Abandon found himself blocking as he loomed somewhat, staring at the buck.
Had Abandon thought to even say good-bye before he'd gone out hunting? No, he didn't think he had. Words had taken a back seat to instinct. His legs stiffened and his eyes widened as he realized that fact, and cleared his throat.
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