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Fawnlings Ahoy!


Drustan | Glenmore Stag | King | Y746NA
Dubhán | Glenmore Colt | Duke | Y758NA
Nuala | Glenmore Doe | Renegade Princess | Y750NA

Étaín | Windborne Doe | Allied Herds General | Y744NA
Rafe | Windborne Colt | Derp | Y758NA

Berach | Oakfern Stag | Retired Shaman | Y736NA

Punk | Silverthorne Filly | Troublemaker | Y759NA
Weed | Silverthorne Colt | Demon Fish Spawn | Y760NA

Ivan | Blackwood Stag | Necromancer | Y743NA

Journal History



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TigressDesign's Profile Picture
Artist | Hobbyist | Digital Art
United Kingdom


108 deviations

Featuring Captain Bróccán (NPC), Prince Drustan (foxtrot98), Guardsman Lonan (Ehetere), Crown Prince Donnaghán (sealle) and Crown Guard Eugene (Kurrumin)

Glenmore, The Glenwood
Summer, Year 756 of the New Age

Bróccán observed the line of young stags before him in a stately manner. The morning was not new, the dew long since evaporated leaving the grass  good footing. It would be a hot day, but the clearing was protected from the worst of the sun’s rays by a patchy carpet of leaves and boughs.

“Not every opponent you will face will be a bull soldier from the Blackwood,” the roan stag stated simply, rumbly voice carrying throughout the clearing. “Nor will every opponent fight the same way. It is your job to adapt, to read your opponent, to exploit their strengths as well as their weaknesses. There are more ways to win a fight than with sheer brute force, and brute force alone will not win you any battles. These you must learn by yourself, and me telling you will not make you learn them any faster. Now, pair up - Donnoghán and Drustan to my left, Eugene, Lonan, to my right.”
“Good. Now, every fight here is winnable, and will require you to understand your opponent and how they fight. What are their strengths? What are their weaknesses? How can you use them? Observation and reaction are key, and never underestimate an enemy. They might surprise you. The last to yield is the victor. Commence!”


It hadn’t been his idea to come to training; the near sight of Eugene reminded him of that. Of the four stags present, including the Captain, Dru was the slightest, the smallest. His thin wiry bones looked like grass reeds in comparison the bulk of his cohort, and he gritted his teeth at the way Lo’s neck wrinkled over the mass of muscle when he looked his way. The Captain’s words did little to inspire Drustan - he couldn’t help but picture the way that great, brown bulk would collapse down on him. His brother stood to his left, easily towering over him, and Dru’s imaginations turned to the image of Don’s rack smacking into his, locking the horns and pushing him back. He imagined the way the dirt would slide out from under his hooves as he lost grip, and toppled backwards. He imagined the pain, and stretched out his neck in a grimace that he tried to mask - no one liked a coward.

One who particularly disliked cowards and frightened little boys was Bró. As noble and as dignified as he was, he only had to be present for Dru to feel the goosebumps on the back of his shins. He glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and wondered if today would be the time he lost any kind of good opinion from the Captain.

Looking around, he felt he perhaps needed that respect more than the others. Don was already the crown prince - he was older too, and had already proved himself. Eugene inspired fear, which was its own, very unique type of respect. As for Lonan, Dru thought, as he looked at his good friend opposite him, he was hard not to admire. It was not one poignant act that he had performed to command the near reverence that he’d achieved over the years, rather, a collection of small behaviours and points of difference that had added up like grains of sand, or bricks and mortar into a wall.

All three of them had their reputations - whereas Dru saw himself tied to a stigma. A mother’s boy, a slight, delicate china doll in need of protection, and the very idea of such a public image prompted a thought: pain didn’t matter today, all things would heal. A poor reputation, however, seemed far more difficult to repair.


The young stag stood to attention, ears pricked forward and legs straight and together. The Captain’s speech was not news to him - as his father he’d been getting it since he’d been old enough to fight, but until now he’d had little opportunity to put it into practice against many... evenly matched opponents. He’d sized up the Crown Prince’s hulking personal guard as they’d approached the clearing, and he had to admit if he were ever to get in practice fighting a ‘Blackwood bull’ as his father put it he’d find plenty of it in Eugene. The deep bay stag was a mean looking creature, outlandishly tall by Glenmore standards. Lonán was tall, this creature was a beast.

Not that Lonán was intimidated, however it certainly did present a new situation, one he wasn’t used to. He couldn’t imagine his father would make him - let him - fight one of the Princes, leaving the bay his only opponent. Lonán was used to being the tall one, the heavy one, the strong one. Eugene had years of experience on him, and was at the very least on par with weight and muscle. In theory, he’d be at the disadvantage. But then he supposed, that was the whole idea.

He glanced at Dru again, whose expression was grim. Indeed, he was the lithe one of the group, but that meant little. Even a reed could outlast a tree in a storm, if it could bend this way and that. And secretly, he did hope Drustan would prevail here today, not just for his own sake. But he could not let such thoughts distract him from the task at hand: that was a fast way to a kick in the ribs and a throbbing bruise. Their antlers were all still a fluff with velvet, but that did not mean they would be any less force to bruise and batter behind attacks, and they would bleed. And above personal pride, Lonán desperately wanted to show his father he could indeed one day be Captain of the Guard someday too.

The line of stags began to split up, Lonán running through a list of mental strategies. In his experience, theory was very different to practice, though it always helped. Even so, he couldn’t resist turning to Dru and grinning just for an instant, his voice kept to a low whisper. “See to it his face ends up in the dirt.”


He could feel the tension emanating from his brother. Dru seemed like he was about to vanish any moment and Don felt a rush of pride when he seemed to shake it off. It almost made him jealous. To be young and nervous, still learning how to move, and what the body could accomplish, it made his hair raise just thinking about it. Don shifted his weight settling the unsightly fluff of his coat and flicked his tail at his brother and letting out a slight chuff of encouragement.

The whole exercise however was boring him, he restrained his natural urge to stamp his hoof in frustration. Training with younger weaker opponents, granted he had learned these lessons the hard way in his younger years, but to repeat them, it reeked of chastisement. Following Bro’s words he turned to eye the rest of the group. Dru was still looking like he would rather be anywhere else. Lonán was ever the dutiful soldier, eyes attentive and standing still as if he never grew impatient with his sires rants. Now there was a buck that needed to loosen up. Snorting his amusement at the thought Don returned his attention to the roan stag.

Pairs, now there was an idea. He eyed the young guard, Lonán. Now there was a stag he itched to fight. He was used to heavier partners, often Eugene during their training but there was something in the way the younger buck trained previously that had caught his attention. Feeling his body begin to thrum with excitement it was even harder to stand to attention. It had been a while since he and Eugene had last spared. His antlers were finally hardening and he could feel the beginnings of the itch that would plague him. Locking antlers with the other stags was exactly what he felt like doing this morning.

At last they were asked to separate. Shaking his rack he nudged past Eugene with a smirk and a nod to his guard before turning to face his brother.


If the tension in the air had been any thicker, Eugene was sure he could have sliced it open with a mere toss of his head, and held it hostage between his antlers. He’d never had any reason for concern over Broccan’s little dog fights. It was not the first time he’d been hauled away from his favorite clearing to play crash course dummy with the trainees, nor would it be the last. Being one of the largest bulls of Glenmore, if not the largest, the Captain had taken to using him as a good introduction to the threat of their neighboring Kingdom, and for weeding out the lesser Stags lest they form a weak link in the Guard. Eugene had never complained, however irritating the interruptions had been at times, for he did relish in the rush of a fight

Discreetly, he eyed his opponents. He worried little for Donnoghan; he had sparred against him enough times to know his style inside and out, but also that neither Don nor Eugene himself would ever intentionally wound each other beyond a scratch, however heated their battles became. His brother, on the other hand…

Eugene’s brow rose slightly as he peered down at the slight form of Prince Drustan, whose wither barely brushed his scapula, and something of a smirk twisted his sharp features. If there was so much as a breeze through the clearing, he would not have been surprised if the prince were swept off his feet and thrown into the nearest tree, or if Eugene so much as bumped him, he feared he might snap in two…or three.


He rolled his shoulders back, the pale beige fur sliding over the bones. The long strands of his tail dragged over the dusty ground, catching on the twigs and leaves as he swished it, to and fro. His dainty hooves shuffled, moving inches in fidgits, as his brother turned around to face him. Don seemed to grow bigger in the moment, his antlers sharpened to finer points, and Drustan imagined one poking through skin, and the droplets of his blood splattering the ground around them. Surely, Don would be kind - he had nothing to prove, he could win without being brutal. He could make it look easy, or rather, easier, considering that Dru was little of an opponent himself.

The russet in Don’s coat glimmered mildly in the filtered light, yet it had lost its beauty and attraction. The gleam instead, appeared malicious.

As the stags found their places opposite their opponent, the young prince noticed Eugene’s gaze, and glanced in his direction to find him staring down at him with something quite infuriating. There in the brute’s eyes was a mix of contempt, pity, disregard, and malignant pleasure. Instead of striking cowardice into Drustan’s blood however, it did something of quite the opposite. How dare a guard, a titleless, half-bred Blackwood brute look at him in such a manner. How dare he hold such pride over a prince, a prince that with but a word, could break him. Gritting his teeth, Drustan squared himself against his brother, just in time to hear his friend’s competitive remark as he sidled past. His heart spattered and a fire flared in his gut with excitement, and he didn’t think to wonder why Lo would say such a thing.

Instead, adrenaline pumping, strategies began to form. He must stay fast, out of reach of his front end, rather use his nimbleness to strike from behind where he might injure a critical ligament. He could use the severe underestimation from their end to his advantage. Drustan knew the drastic consequences that often became from a party giving lack of credit.


He could feel his blood pumping as his body kicked into gear. Squaring up and facing his brother he noticed the Guard whisper something. He hoped it was encouragement. Seeming to take comfort in it Dru visibly calmed. His nervous energy now focused as his gaze turned to him. There was a strength in Dru’s gaze that Don didn’t think he had seen before, and he had to remind himself that he had yet to see his brother properly spar against an opponent. He would have to be wary until he figured out his style.

There was a pause. Both combatants hesitant to make the first move.

Finally it was a sharp bark from Bro to start that kicked them into gear. Don took the initiative. Deciding first to test the smaller stags defence and try to spot a weakness to exploit. With a grunt he dug into the soil, jumping forward and lowering his rack as he charged. The space between them rapidly closed, and at the last moment he tilted his head and adjusted his lunge, aiming instead to sweep his antlers across his brothers 


Dru was wondering how long he could prolong the inevitable, hoping his brother and he could simply stare and hesitate until there was no more time left - yet when Bro let out a stirring cry, the stillness shattered, and Don lunged forward. Instinctively Dru’s legs splayed out from underneath him as he tried to brace himself, slipping on a leaf. As he tried to gather himself, to jump out of the way of the tonne of flesh flying towards him, something subconscious directed him, and he collected his legs to a neat leap - aiming for the clean, empty air above Don’s lowered antlers.

He almost made it; Don’s horrifiying, crown of thorns clipped the delicate, fragile bone of Dru’s pastern, and he bayed in pain as he fell and rolled over the other side. Adrenaline played its part, though, and as he clambered  to his feet, the pain disintegrated. He rose quick enough to be able to see his brother, still collecting and slowing himself from his previous charge, and dove for the opportunity. With his strength and his most dangerous weapon pointing away from him, Dru used his speed to catch up, and made a move to swipe the pointed, higher tips of his antlers across the back of his legs. He didn’t know if he’d hit, and as he scrambled to a safer distance, he turned to see if he had left any damage on Don.


It wasn’t until the last moment of his lunge that his brother finally moved. He had seemed to slip but had managed to vanish just before his blow struck home. He was fast, faster than Don had expected. Good, this would make it interesting. He had managed to connect part of his lunge, the vibration in his antlers left him satisfied, though it had only been a fraction of the blow he had intended. Slowing his charge he he heard a sound behind him. Dru was fast. Luckily Don had some agility on his side too. Using his momentum and the weight of his antlers he dug his front hooves in and spun his hindquarters around.

He was fast, but not quite fast enough and the grazing blow left his legs smarting. Grunting he saw the slighter body of his brother hoofing it away from him. With a smile he decided it was time his brother earned himself a few bruises.

The muscles in his haunches rippled as they contracted, sending him flying after his brothers rump. He lowered his antlers, this time aiming to fling Dru’s slight form into the air. He just hoped his speed would help him cover the distance before Dru turned around, and take him by surprise.


There was a wild satisfaction, something primitive and unruly that flared in his belly when he realised he had in fact, hit his brother. Empathy had disappeared from him, the love that he’d grown up accompanied by, vanished. All he cared about was pinning his brother in the dirt, all he desired was victory. The prince turned, catching Don’s gaze and holding within it, something deeply akin to what he felt. A smile was wearing away at the great red stag’s muzzle, something malicious and earthborn, and there were no prizes guessing what Don was after.

At once the stag was hurtling towards him, blood in his mind, and Dru scrambled to get out of the way. He made it perhaps two steps before he felt the solid thud of his brother’s antlers colliding with the end of him, knocking his legs out from underneath him. It wasn’t a clean hit, and so rather than simply throwing him forward, Dru was pushed down and he was collected with Don’s hooves - one of which clashed with his skull with a sickening crack.

Dru didn’t let out a cry, instead remained silent with shock. Rattled with pain, Dru opened his eyes, gawking after his brother. The massive stag was nearby, turning around to face him. Fear hovered in the atmosphere, and Dru contemplated yielding, but when he glanced over at Bro, and saw the disdain staining his face, he kept quiet. It was obvious his blows wouldn’t be half as powerful as Don’s - it was pure physics, but he could however, maybe, use his speed as a last ditch effort. Even if winning was impossible, he could maybe delay defeat, just a little longer.

Staggering to his hooves, he gathered himself, mentally and physically, and at once, broke into a breakneck speed. He darted around Don, darting in at him before slicing away. He jarred at him, teased him, in any hope that he could provoke him enough to make a crucial mistake.


The blow wasn’t as clean as Don had intended. The small body of his brother folding to the ground under the pressure. He lifted his feet, trying to shorten his stride and avoid the delicate limbs that were easy to become entangled in. He managed to avoid injuring the legs and tripping himself over, but as he lept free he felt his hind hoof connect with something. Slowing and turning he saw his brothers dazed and shocked expression and paused. He looked to Bro, the older stag was supervising and it would be him that stepped in if he thought someone too injured to continue, but only the cracks of the other pair remained and the older stags watchful eyes remained on the now standing young prince.

Dru seemed to make a choice, and still a bit wobbly he broke into a run. His long legs flashing as he skittered around Don. It was a tactic the fast and lighter stags often used when faced with a larger opponent. Speed, and quick darting attacks aiming to irritate and frustrate. Don could see the feints and the charges. Dru always aiming away from his head, towards his supposedly vulnerable hindquarters and flanks. Don knew his teacher was watching, assessing his ability to keep a cool head when taunted by his attacker. He would not fail Bro’s expectations. He waited, blocking a few swipes and as Dru made another attempt he saw a brief window of opportunity. Mere seconds where the younger stag’s eyes turned to the direction of his escape. Don seized the moment.

Lashing out with his hind legs he sent a powerful kick aimed straight at the Dru’s ribs. If he was winded, there would be none of this running around in circles he seemed to enjoy.


"Ooof!" The powerful kick hit the inexperienced stag firm in the chest, diverting his momentum and sending him face first into the dirt once more. With a hasty scramble he tried to get his legs under him to continue the first - determined not to give up - but they just wouldn't cooperate and he flopped into his side with a wheeze. Panting her rolled his eyes to his looming brother and curled up defensively. "I yield! I yield!" He squeaked, rasping for a full breath and spitting out soil, all grandiose thoughts of victory gone as promptly as they had come. "Argh," he grumbled, rolling onto his front and at least trying not to look too pathetic. He knew it had been a bad idea to come to training! His brother was built for this where as he... he was built for other things. 
Stick them with the pointy end
Another old RP in which Dru faces Don in a (mostly) friendly spar! My only input was heckling and the contents of the last post, as this was written by the fantabulous foxtrot98 as Drustan and sealle as Don! Thanks for permission to upload this guys! Sorry its belated XD

Drustan by foxtrot98 (now owned by TigressDesign)
Don by sealle (now owned by strideroo)
Eugene by Kurrumin 
Lonan by Ehetere
Hey lovelies! Just to let you know that I have to be an absolute butt and prioritise a few plot-based RPs over past-meetings in order to get the Glenmore King stuff out on time x.x sorry about this! I'll be back to my usual  to-do list asap!

Featuring Drustan, Fenella, Derryth, BóAnn, Aveline, Naminé and Raeghan

Glenmore, The Glenwood

Late Spring, Year 762 of the New Age


He was nervous as he led the small procession into the forest, though he felt more like a giddy colt than a scared rabbit. The idea had come to him on a run, when his mind had wandered to the regrowth of the Oak. Nuala had used her gift to collect and enhance the magic of all of the Glenmorians present, and Huisha had channeled it into the growth of an acorn into a titanic tree.

Drustan had practiced magic with BóAnn and Fenella, but never together. While they might not be able to grow an acorn into a thousand year old tree in a matter of minutes, Drustan could not help but wonder what they could accomplish. And so with BóAnn and Fenella in tow, with their children following behind, Drustan led them somewhere they could practice in peace.

The sable stag finally came to a halt when he reached a short cliff face, no more than three fawnlings tall, with a jumble of boulders and shrubs making a climbable surface to the top of the rise. Looking up at the stone and earth, he took a quick breath and turned to the group. “Are you ready?” He asked, excitement and a little trepidation in his voice.


Ever since she had been given to him she had put most of her focus on his feelings above all, and with the training the past seasons that seemed to have become stronger. It wasn't like she would be able to explain the exact thoughts that he had was like she got a hunch of it. Now the feeling was similar to a band of ants marching across her hide. The sable stag hadn’t told where they were going, only that he needed their support and of course she had followed. Part of her both worried and was happy for the lack of guards. She glanced now and then towards Drustan's oldest son. What if...something happened, what if there were raiders...what if...what...if? She got a nudge from a small nose and looked down at her side, met the grin of her only son and with that some of her worry seemed to vanish. His pink nose stood out just like his white marking against his pelt color, and the slightly darker face. His hooves too made him different, but he never seemed to be that bothered. He walked a bit oddly, probably not to stumble and fall. Running didn't seem as much of a problem either.

Drustan stopped and the pale doe couldn't help but wonder what they were doing here. She remembered what she and Drustan had done, and with a slight sting she remembered the stone fawn. Even if she had Derryth...the memory still stinged. She glanced at the youngsters, they were all BoÁnns. In Princess terms Bo had done her duty and then some. Fenella bit the inside of her lip and pushed the feeling away. The stag looked excited but his voice carried something else too. In response she simply nodded. She would never refuse him, she didn't even know if she could.


Adventure! Ears topped and eyes on as many things as he could focus on before something new caught his attention. Father had brought them all along for this and even if they might have said where they were going he must have missed it. Many times if they said something but stood far away there wasn't more than a mumble to him. It was strange because sometimes, if some fawnlings were talking...or mumbled, they began to sound clearer if he came closer.

With a slight shine in his eyes he looked up ahead at Han that walked closer to his...or their father. Then he looked at his mother, she had that troubled look in her eyes, the same that could have when she looked at him sometimes, when she thought he couldn't see her looking. He did though, most of the time. Even in his young mind he knew it was something with him that made her look like that, and sometimes it was something with his father that made her look like that and sometimes....well he wasn't sure what made her look like that. He nudged her shoulder and waited for her to look at him, then he smiled. Derryth was sure he had some kind of superpower, because if mother looked like that and he smiled at her...the look vanished...or most of it did anyway. He wiggled his tail and his grin got wider as he saw it happening again, super colt Derryth to the rescue again!

He almost stumbled when Ave stopped just in front of him. Luckily he didn't bump into her like he had done a few times before. Luckily she never seemed to get mad at him for it. When he thought she gave him a glance he fired off another of his grins. Then he noticed his father was speaking and he did his best to pay attention, although that passing yellow butterfly was mighty interesting.


Following her mate, the princess basked in the glow that was her family.  As if the energy from her sister and her mate weren't enough, both of her older children, now exuding magical energy the feeling was almost intoxicating.  Any which way she'd reach with her magic, she could nearly feed off of another's power.  The sensation brought a smile to her face.  They herd had thought their magic was fading but now look at them.  Her grandmother, one of the most powerful princesses of her time, would be proud.  Proud of what she and her sisters had become.

The group stopped and the bundle of fawns at their heels nearly piled on one another as they quickly came to a complete stops.  The endeavor they were about to try hadn’t been attempted, at least by the three grown fawnlings here this day.  Her mother had told her stories as a fawn of groups of princesses being used to enhance the power that others held inside them.  She’d practiced many times alone with Drustan but this would be her first try at combining her strength with another princess.  She’d never say it outright but the entire thought of what they could do was exciting.

From the feeling of her children, she could sense that she’d not been the only one excited.  Though, someone was definitely unsure of the entire experience, the general feeling around her was happiness and excitement.  Her mate spoke, drawing her attention back to him.  She’d looked between her sister and the sable stag, giving an eager nod in agreement.  


Walking, walking, walking - most of the time, such a thing would be boring. Ave did it every day, always travelling the same paths, seeing the same sights, seeing the same herd members; no matter how hard she tried to make it an interesting escapade, three years of the same old tiny neighborhood did nothing to sate her appetite for adventure. Today was different though! Today was fun! Today wasn’t just an adventure, it was an adventure with family! Just family, no buzz-kill guards to ruin the fun! Mama, dad, Aunt Fen, Han, Nami, and even little Derryth! To say Ave was excited was an understatement. The tiny filly was absolutely brimming with energy, wearing the widest of grins across her face.

The path they followed was a new path, one she had never ventured down before. While she stayed close to the group, things scattered among the underbrush caught her eye and caused her to dart off every now and then - never out of eye or earshot of her parents though. She quickly made a game out of listening for rustles and scuffles in the bushes, pretending whatever lurked inside were monsters or creepy critters of some sort. With a loud bleat, she’d charge into the brush and flush out whatever beasts hid inside, then return back to the group like a triumphant war hero. So far she had traumatized six songbirds and three squirrels, a new personal best.

Wherever they were going, they finally got there. The sudden appearance of the cliff said so, and with no where else to go, the group stopped. She wasn’t exactly sure what her father meant by “are you ready?” - ready for what? What were they going to do, climb up the cliff? That seemed strange, they should just find another path - after all, babies like Nami and Derryth couldn’t climb very well; no baby could climb very well, they weren’t well made for rock climbing. They were made for being cute though. Ave looked to her little sister and brother and grinned, feeling both happiness, and a bit of fatigue from the long walk - but mostly happiness. Whatever their father wanted them to be ready for, she’d be ready for. She was always ready.


The blue-eyed filly trotted at her mother’s side, sticking so close to BóAnn’s legs that she bumped into them several times.  She had to keep her eyes trained on the path ahead-- there were lots of evil rocks in the path, and they always tried to be mean and catch her hooves!  Then she would go tumbling head over heels and end up in a heap of creamy fluff, and that was no fun.  She’d already done it twice on the walk, and she wasn’t keen for it to happen a third time.

Naminé was so focused on not tripping that she didn’t realize they’d stopped, walking right into Raeghan’s hocks.  Letting out a little meep of surprise, the filly looked up at her brother’s tail.  What was that?  Oh, it was Han.  Backing up, she slipped in between her mother’s forelegs, where she peered out at her surroundings.

They had reached a flat little ledge near the top, and the young princess wondered internally what they were doing here.  She knew better than to open her mouth, though-- a princess should never ask such a question.


The dappled prince followed after his father, following in his footsteps. Keeping pace with his father no longer required quite as much effort as it once had, he was now taller than his mother, and getting closer to being as tall as his father, though it would still take longer to grow quite that tall. Raeghan could almost feel his father’s nervousness radiating off of him, quite like the way his mother glowed at night when he and his sisters were almost asleep. The family moved through the woods, unaccompanied by guards. His father had wanted to have time simply with his family, and Raeghan could not object. It wasn’t often that he was able to spend time simply with those closest to him.

Han glanced over his shoulder, smiling as he saw his mother and two sisters, followed by Fenella and Derryth. Their family had grown quite a lot recently, but he embraced the change. It was a good change, to see his aunt with a fawn, and his mother with two princess daughters. He felt proud that he was growing up, and that it was his duty to start protecting his family.

Han skidded to a stop as his father stopped in front of him. He glanced over at the cliff, ears turning back and forth with curiosity. He wasn’t exactly sure what his father had in mind, but he knew it involved some of his developing magic skills, and he was excited to try. As his father asked the question, he nodded, a slight smile coming across his dark features. He closed his eyes, honing into the corner of his mind where he could feel the slight tremors of magic.


Light enveloped him, the two distinct powers of BóAnn and Fenella, with the additional trickle from his daughters, and a small stream of earth magic joining in from his sons. Never had he felt more connected to his family; not even Nuala’s magic had felt this in tune. Her’s was stronger perhaps, but she hadn’t know him like his mates did.

Closing his eyes he tipped back his head and concentrated, pushing the magic into the rockface and channeling it as one as Huisha had instructed. It was difficult to keep it as one, but pausing to wrap the six separate streams more tightly before trying again made it feel more controlled, more powerful, focussed.

Earth rumbled and stone grated on stone. Before them the boulders merged and took shape. First a sleek muzzle, followed by a face with dark obsidian eyes. Shrubs that had once perched upon the hillside twisted and writhed into a curling set of antlers upon the emerging figure’s brow. The vision was not hard to maintain, the idea was seared into his mind with the combined light and he felt his magic was stronger than it ever had been. He pushed his magic deep into the remaining rock, pulling the shape out of the slope until a full sculpture stood before them, three times their height with head and antlers reaching as high as the trees around them.

Quivering, the sable stag stepped towards their creation. The bulk of the statue was made of rock, with branches and vines twisting around the joints forming what looked like muscle and sinew. The legs were proportionally thicker than that of the stag it was modeled from, but aside from the leaves, the antlers were just as he remembered them. “Hi dad,” he murmured, addressing the lifeless replica of Captain Broccán. Earth and stone would never replace the protector - and secret father - that he had lost, but he felt somehow safer looking at the statue.

The light of the Princesses faded, though not completely, and he felt as if there was a connection still flowing, like a stream rather than the rushing river before, but it was still there nonetheless. He smiled to BóAnn and Fenella, more than satisfied with what they had done. It was bigger than anything he had ever created, and yet he did not even feel remotely drained. The power of his mates combined with his own was unimaginable. And irresistible.


The feeling felt...unreal...and the doe closed her eyes as she felt not only her own light but BoÁnns light as well surge through her and join Drustans green growing magic. There was a small bud of magic that came from Han, a little careful just as the young colt was. Then there was BoÁnns daughters, like small fireflies. What took her by surprise was something else and made her open her eyes and look at her son. She wasn't sure what to think and for just one moment, one breath, she lost her focus. The scraping sound of a stone against another brought her back even if the feeling that she had felt coming from Derryth still tickled her side.

A slight rumble got her to look up and now her eyes widened. Earth and rock moved, but it wasn't really that was strange, it was the shape it took. A giant stag suddenly stood before the group, and it took just one look of the antlers for her to remember who they had belonged to. Obviously there had never been a reason for her to talk to the former Captain but that didn't mean that she didn't know who he was. And in another world...she casted an eye at the sable stag that had taken some steps towards the another world Drustan would have known him better. Again the worry swept over her like mist on a cold autumn morning. Once more her eyes swept over her son that stood like nailed to the ground and eyes on the giant figure. What would she do if anything happened to those she cared about more than her own life?


Something pulled him from the butterfly, something that was much stronger than any interesting track or mud puddle, or any other interesting object he had ever laid his eyes on. Not even that very interesting rock thing he had given to Misha when he was even more little than he was now was as interesting. Wide-eyed but not the least scared he watched as his father seemed to form the greens and the greys, soft and living with the hard and dead, creating something that became something inbetween. Somehow he felt himself inside those objects, those stones and the green plants even if he stood still, at the same place. He hadn't even moved an eartip. A big grin formed on the small colts lips as he saw what was taking form before his eyes. A giant father...well almost.


Closing her eyes loosely, she pushed her light forward, seeking the familiar green glow of her mate.  She'd quickly found it and wrapped her own creamy glow of light around it protectively.  Almost instantaneously, the paler golden light of her sister, wrapped it's way around Drustan's energy.  She could feel it feeding and growing off of her own power.

She could feel the pale green ora of her son's energy enter the mix that was soon joined by Aveline's at her side.  Her eyes opened in a flash as she'd felt the tiny light coming from between her forelegs, from her youngest daughter and from her nephew.  

The crumbling and clash of rocks finally had come to an end as the doe felt the energy of her mate and sister fade, followed instantly by their children.  Her eyes followed the rock face north to be met by the presence of a grand statue.  The stone's features had transformed into a stag, his antler unmistakeable.  Drustan had created his father.  A living monument of the stag that did his duty to the kingdom, even at the cost of having to miss calling the stag beside him son.  She'd known that the captain would be proud of the king his son had been coming.  As proud as she’d been of her mate.


Raeghan’s breath was taken away as he felt a tug at his own magic. He had used magic before, but typically it felt like little more than a trickling spark, enough to make a flower bloom, of the grass stand taller around him, or even to make pebbles skip across the dirt at times. He could feel each member of his family through the gentle string of light that bound them together. His father’s deep resonating magic seemed to resound through the link, and his mother’s lighter gentle magic seemed to flow in a quiet harmony. He could feel the magic of his little sisters, and even a quiet rippling drop from Derryth.  He breathed deeply, taking in the feel of the power that resided in all of them. He smiled to himself, enjoying the feel of his magic flowing so freely from within him.

He heard Ave and Namine speak quietly to themselves, and he opened his eyes to look over at them, ears flicking. However, his attention hardly rested on his sisters for a moment before it was directed elsewhere. He stared at the enormous structure before him, stunned for the moment. How was this possible? His magic was still flowing slowly, encouraged by the power of his mother and aunt. He stepped forward, standing beside his father, trying to make sense of it all.


Feeling the flow of energy through the group, Ave instinctively closed her eyes and relaxed. The warmth felt familiar, like that time when Aunt Nu made the tree grow, except not exactly the same. It was pretty close though. Her mother and aunt radiated with the stronger magic, while she and her sister contributed what they could of their tiny glows. Soon enough, the scraping sounds of stones and and rocks grew and grew until finally something had formed. Ave could feel it forming, but with her eyes closed in relaxation, she couldn’t see it. When the magic faded off, Ave opened her eyes once again, but what she saw she could not believe.

She had seen her father build stone creatures before, but never anything this impressive. “whoa…”, she murmured, frozen in awe for a bit, but finally bust out of her sedentary state and bounced over to investigate their creation closer.


A squeak of surprise emanated from Naminé as she felt every hair of her body stand on end.  It felt like a bolt of lightning had gone through her body, and she looked wildly about for the source.  Funny, it seemed to be coming from Daddy.  He was tugging at her, except not really, and he was asking for something; she channeled it into him, and all of a sudden she felt a rush of light.  Of magic.  It was something she’d felt a few times before, when she’d had a few scrapes and bruises that had gone away in front of her eyes.  Did Drustan want to heal something?  Was the mountain hurt?  She wasn’t sure if she knew how to heal a mountain.  Hopefully he did.

The tiny princess gasped in awe, jaw dropping as a figure made out of stone began to take shape.  It was a fawnling, certainly-- but it wasn’t, it was rocks and leaves and vines and twigs!  How could that be?  Who was it?  Did it want to hurt them?  She hoped not.  Edging out from beneath her glowing mother’s belly, Naminé tilted her head sideways and stared at the fawnling.  “Hello?” she asked in a tiny voice.


The wind picked up, rustling the leaves that adorned the figure. He wondered what Broccán would think when looking down on them from Óganach’s Kingdom, that he had made this likeness. He hadn’t known what shape the creation would take until he came to it. He had just thought he needed his magic to protect them, and it was Broccán who he had visualised.

If only he could bring his father and the others he had lost back to life as easily as he had made this figure. He remembered how the regal roan stag had used to bow to him, pretending he was a prince yet knowing otherwise. Drustan’s thoughts wandered, wondering how they had kept the secret for so long. The groan of trees and the grating of stone snapped his attention back to the statue expecting to see it falling, ready to call his children back, only to see that the statue was moving. Slowly - ponderously - the creation lowered its head, bent a knee and extended the other leg. To Drustan’s astonishment, the likeness of Broccán was bowing, just as he used to.

For a moment all the sable stag could do was stare, before he turned to BóAnn and Fenella. “Is... is it... is he alive?” He asked in a whisper. The stone figure had stood again and was standing perfectly still like a sentry. What on Óganach’s earth had just happened?


When Drustan spoke she wasn't sure if she should say anything or not. Her eyes had returned to the giant figure. It had moved. It was no question about it, it wasn't like it was a stone that had tumbled down and landed at their feet, nor earth magic making something bloom or it had actually moved. Fenella dared herself to look at her mate. He had turned towards both her and Bo...

“...I...don't know, Drustan...Óganach...have his ways...and only He knows why...perhaps he finds you worthy of something more than...normal earth magic? Despite all...” she paused and looked around, cautious as ever “ are a son of his matter what..”


The colt could hardly control himself as he saw the giant almost father thing move. Carefully he took steps forward til he stood beside his father and Han. Eyes glittered as he looked up at the creature. The only thing that moved now was the green in the branch antlers. Derryth had never seen anything close to this amazing. He looked around. Mother looked...part worried and part something else, Father's eyes had that ‘something else’ look too. He nosed the stags shoulder, ears topped and the biggest grin he could possibly do. “Again! Make it move again, Father...” he peeped, then he remembered his manners “...please?”


She skirted around the stone stag, giggling and darting in between his solid legs like a dancing butterfly. She would have loved to climb up on top of the statue, but with nothing to jump up upon to reach the back, she settled for playing around it’s feet.

When the rock started to creak and moan, Ave squealed and bounced back over to her mother and father, fearing the stones were coming down on her. She didn’t hear them break and crumble, nor did she hear the loud ‘thud’ of the statue falling to it’s knees. What were the sounds for then? Turning around from between her father’s knees, her jaw dropped once again. The stag… it was alive?....

This really was the best day ever.

Ave donned the biggest smile she could possibly wear, nodding excitedly to her little brother’s request to make it move again. “Make him prance!”, she giggled.


She'd turned to bring her attention to her daughters.  Fearing the giant stone stag was going to fall over as it began to creak and groan, she called out to her daughter as she pranced around at it's feet.  Without having to say a word, the filly quickly found her away to her side.  She's stepped back slightly, reaching her tail forward, putting it between the stone stag and her children.  Unbelievably the statue leaned forward, bowing slightly, before returning to his regal position as before.  Her eyes grew larger as her mate asked if it were alive.

Fenella was first to reply, a traditional, acceptable answer for her mate.  One which Bo wouldn’t have been able to come with in that moment.  She couldn't think of much else to add.  She simply stared at the stone face, still unable to believe what they'd all just witnessed.


Han shook his head a little, his dark mane flicking back and forth. It seemed alive, so real and formidable. Had they really created this majestic creature? His siblings jumped forward, excited by the stone giant before them. Han watched Derryth grin as his father, and Ave request for the giant stag to dance. Han’s ears flickered. He smiled down at little Namine. He was his father’s son, and while his father may not have the birthright to be a true Glenmore king, he was a true leader all the same. Only his father could lead his family, bring them all together like this.

Han’s ears flickered lightly, pride entering his dark eyes. He watched as his siblings gathered around his father, gentle light emanating from his mother and aunt. He dipped his head a little in a quiet salute to the stone giant.


The young filly’s jaw dropped in amazement as the big stone stag bowed to her daddy.  Was he really alive?  She had never heard of huge piles of stones speaking, but if they could bow, why not talk?

She took a few cautious steps forward.  It had bowed to her father; that meant he was its king, and if Drustan was its king then there was no way that it would hurt her.  At least, she hoped so.  It was still pretty far away from her, so at least she could run.  She wouldn’t run though, she was a big grown-up princess and she would stay.

“Daddy?” she asked, creeping up behind her father’s tail.  “What… what is it?”


"Careful," he absently cautioned his excited children. The stone giant seemed sturdy enough now it was still, but better to be safe then sorry.

"Magician Huisha says it is a golem. Like Sir Lancelot just.... Bigger." He peered up in awe at the creation, amazed still that they had created this.

Smiling indulgently at Derryth and Aveline, he was already feeling tired from the initial magic but their enthusiasm was infectious. "I don't think my father is the sort to dance, so no promises,” he winked at Ave, and turned back to the stone golem. “Let’s see shall we... stand back,” he half-lidded his eyes so as to keep a blurry eye on the fawns as well as the golem, while trying to concentrate.

He doubled a full prance would be safe, considering the weight of it, so first he concentrated on one leg at a time. At first nothing happened, focussing on trying to move the rocks up, but he found when he thought about the movement as a whole, it came more easily. With a grinding of stone, the golem lifted one foreleg proudly, and put it down again before doing the same with the other.

Drustan managed to make the construction go through the motions again a few more times before sweat began to break out along his neck. With a deep breath, he stopped, and smiled around at his family. His princesses and their children. He was so proud of them, and the other royal and common does he was lucky to have in his harem and all their fawns. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep them safe, and though he needed a fair bit of practice with his magic before the golem was ready, he would soon have just the thing to keep that promise.

Their protector. 
In which Dru does something impressive for once. With the help of his family of course...

Collab with decors, fulociraptor, IthilFaer, ChrissyMax and ThePaisley. Thanks guys!
Soren Fawn Design by TigressDesign
Soren Fawn Design
Name: Soren
Nickname(s): Wren
Gender: Stag
Year of Birth: 762
Intended Herd: Glenmore
Phenotype: Sooty Grullo Partially Restricted Fawn
Genotype: Ee/aa/nD/nSty/fwfw/nrz
Eye Colour: Brown
Sire:  Verdelet 100% Glenmore
DamD'Anya  100% Glenmore

Played By: Angel-Creek-Ranch


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TigressDesign Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Love it!
Ace118 Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2015
Yay I shall pop it into Fawnlings since you like what I typed you did read it all as well right :D 
Shireling-Archer Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2015  Student Traditional Artist
Hey Tiggs! Seele, Agent, (maybe Decors), and I are working on organizing a RP and collab for the birth of the twins. We were wondering if you think that Dru would be present for the birth and if you would like to be a part of the roleplay and collab because it would be amazing to have you and Dru, complete the whole family dynamic! :heart:
TigressDesign Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I've mentioned that dru arrived after the birth in an upcoming rp, so he'll rush in at the end to say good bye :( I'd love to join in :)
Shireling-Archer Featured By Owner Jun 16, 2015  Student Traditional Artist
Alright sounds good, sad, but good... I will let you know when we have the roleplay all set up and then let you know again when we might be close to Dru coming in :)
Horsepoint Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2015


Thank yoooou! ;3;

TigressDesign Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Horsepoint Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2015
CatelfKitling Featured By Owner May 17, 2015  Hobbyist Photographer
I love your art Sweetie! :la:
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