Its Way Back Home
In MONTHLY PROMPT ・
By meiniann
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The forest at late autumn always felt like a giant quilt has been draped over the world. Soft, chilly, and just a little sleepy. And today, Mysie hopped between the branches like a wandering lantern, in search for something in particular.
The month of sharing was her favorite. A whole set of weeks dedicated to kindness, sharing warmth, and helping creatures and humans who needed it?
Sign her way up and she'd be very thankful for that!
She sang as she drifted through a patch of ferns, tracing lazy spirals in the air with her tail. The forest carried that delicious I-might-snow-soon vibe, the kind that tickles your face and makes you want to wrap your tail around your neck like a scarf.
But something felt off.
The forest was quiet. Too quiet.
No birds fussing, squirrels arguing about acorns sharing rights, not even leaf-rustling gossip.
Just the cold whisper of the wind.
Mysie paused midair, ears perked up, “Huh, this year's autumn is quieter than expected...”
Then she heard it.
A thin cry, soft and very much trembling, like someone or something trying very hard not to cry, but ended up failing.
Of course, Mysie zipped towards the sound to find the source.
She found it near the edge of a half-frozen pond. A tiny fawn, legs shaking, nose pink from the cold, and fur damp with frost.
“Awww, sweetie…” Mysie whispered.
The fawn flinched and looked up at her. It blinked, confused, but stepped forward to approach her.
Mysie lowered herself to the ground, standing in front of the fawn. She dialed her fire from “cosmic lantern” to “warm bedside nightlight,” letting a gentle cocoon of warmth spreads around them.
“There you go,” she murmured, “It's okay, little one. I got you,”
The fawn wobbled closer and pressed its head against her. It didn’t speak, of course, but its shivers, the little nudges, and the scent of fear tangled with hope…they told the whole story.
“You’re lost,” she whispered, “And you don’t know where your mama went,”
The fawn gave her a quiet nod.
Mysie scanned the ground, sweeping her paw over the frosted dirt. There. Foot prints, or hoove prints. Two sets of them, one big and one small, hading into the deeper forest.
She swallowed. Of course it had to be the spooky part. The part where shadows liked to gossip ominously.
“It’s okay,” she told the fawn, “We’ll find her together,”
She drifted forward, and the fawn followed her.
The forest got colder and darker the deeper they went. Branches arched overhead like ribs, and the ground dipped and rose in awkward, toe-stubbing ways. At some point, fallen logs blocked the path, so Mysie gently guided the fawn around them.
When they reached a patch of ice, the fawn slipped on its first step.
Mysie gasped, “WAITWAITWAIT—”
The fawn skidded sideways like an anxious deer it is, before Mysie zipped under it and formed a light-cushion floor.
The fawn landed with a whump, but immediately tries to stand at its legs out of embarassment.
Mysie giggled, “Don’t worry, I fall on flat ground all the time too,”
The fawn perked its ears, as if deeply appreciative of the confession.
They continued deeper and deeper, until the sound of a branch being snapped heard somewhere to their right.
The fawn froze.
Mysie froze.
Both stared into the shadows—
—and then a rabbit blasted out of a bush, looked up at them with its confused eyes, before vanishing again.
“What a dramatic little fella,” Mysie muttered, sticking her tongue out after the rabbit, “Scared the fur off me,”
They kept moving.
The tracks grew fresher. The air warmer. Somewhere ahead, Mysie felt that buzzing feeling like when they’re close to something important.
And then, they arrived at a glade. At its center stood a doe, pacing in agitated circles. Her ears twitched and every few seconds she raised her head and cried out—calling for something or someone.
The fawn’s head shot up at the sight, amd its whole body lit with sense of familiarity.
Mysie whispered, “Go on.”
The fawn bolted.
The doe froze—eyes wide and rushed forward to the fawn. Their sweet reunion is filled with nuzzles and squeaky cries and tiny stomps of joy.
Mysie hovered quietly next to them, watching with her heart swelling so hard it could’ve made her float into the sky.
The mother deer, seem to notice her presence, looked right at her.
Not scared nor confused.
Just…grateful. Very very grateful,
It stepped forward, bowed her head low, and held it there. As if thanking to Mysie for helping the fawn back.
Mysie covered her mouth with her paws, flustered beyond comprehension, “I-I only helped your fawn—you're gonna make me combust, miss!”
The doe slowly lift its head and gave Mysie a gentle nod, then slipped into the forest with the fawn catching up its mother.
Mysie stayed in the clearing long after they disappeared.
“This,” she whispered, smiling to herself, “Is definetly the best autumn I've ever had,”
Then, she spreads her wings and soared into the night, ready to find the next creature who needed a little kindness.
word count: 859 words
Submitted By meiniann
for Sharing Kindness
Submitted: 23 hours ago ・
Last Updated: 23 hours ago
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