: a l l w i l l b e o n e :
She had been nothing more than a tiny ball of fur when they had left. To a land where snow doesn't fall, where the cold doesn't ache in your bones. To the Swamp, that's where almost every one of the adults she'd ever known had gone. One doe was left, to watch over the seven or so children until word was sent back to follow. Forever and ever they waited, until, finally, a soaring eagle banked and landed before their false mamma and presented her a branch of soft green.
Immediately they set forth to reunite with their family.
Snow was no problem of a mighty Totoma, but a heavy blizzard and seven lambs spell out a different story. Together the group slowly moved down the mountain side, the false mamma herding and nudging the babies back into formation. They were just over half way down and had settled for the night. False mamma had gone off to search for food, leaving the eldest, an adolescent doe of gore and bone who's horns had just begun to curve back.
She had fallen asleep while on vigil when the blizzard whited out the mountain.
The lambs awoke, mewling in fear and shivering with cold. False mamma had never returned and all of the children were shaking with panic. She alone was the first to stand.
"Silence!" She ordered above the howling wind, and soon the lambs grew quiet, all eyes on her, "We cannot wait for the false mamma, we will freeze. We must work together, all must be one for us to survive, do you understand?" The tiny heads nod, lips quivering with chill.
The white doe stepped forward, "Good. Now follow me."
She ushered the little ones close to the stone wall, keeping them tightly pressed to one another for warmth. She found a large rock that had fallen against the side of the mountain, forming a makeshift shield against the biting wind. With a strong voice despite her shivering, she ordered the kids to work together, to dig into the snow, until compacted walls of the stuff surrounded them. Finally, the nestled together, a puddle of furs, huddling for warmth.
It was there that they waited out the storm. The next morning, when they awoke, the doe was standing guard, watching over them like a good leader would. When false mamma was no where to be found, she lead them on, down the mountain and into a new life. All the while the little lambs followed obediently, their new leader...
All Will Be One.
