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A Random Burst of Writing #3-Frightened Deer

A Random Burst of Writing #3-Frightened Deer

Posted March 8th, 2023 by Cheezmra

by Dragonwolf
in California

I threw my shoulder-length light brown hair over my shoulder and adjusted my custom saddle. It wasn't exactly a saddle, though. It had no place for a human to sit-humans would have broken my fragile deer’s back-but it had useful bags that fitted snugly and had plenty of storage space, but it would not bounce as I ran. If I had to, I would run as fast as a deer, bounding several feet with each jump. I was a deer-centaur, with a deer’s body and the upper body of a human. I had fawn colored hair and the ears of a doe. I wore a leather jacket and a backpack in addition to the saddlebags. I had fastened a short spear to the girth of my saddle and wore a belt around my human’s waist. My hand easily rested on the carved hilt of my sword. I reached over my back where I had slung a bow.

“Hello, Amber, where are you going, armed to the teeth?” It was Obsidian, a strong male with a handsome crown of antlers with sharp metal tips on the top. I never trusted him.

“Where I’m going is my own business.” My hand strayed to the spear fastened to my side. I knew I could not out-run him. He was the fastest, strongest, and meanest of our herd. I had seen him flip a fawn over his head once. 

“Ah, so you don’t want to tell.” His voice grew soft and menacing and his hand openly strayed to the enormous sword at his hip. I knew I had been outmatched again.

“Obsidian, leave me alone.” I knew it was suicide, but I needed to get away.

He leaped forward and grabbed my wrist. “Oho, we have a little fighter here.” 

At that moment I knew his meanness went beyond being a bully. 

I reared up as best I could with him pulling on my wrist and I kicked him in the chest while twisting my hand and pulling it away.

I caught a glimpse of pure hatred on his twisted face as I leaped away, yanking the bow off my back and hurriedly stinging an arrow. I twisted and allowed my deer’s body to carry me forward with leaps and bounds while my deft fingers strung the bow. He was chasing me, watching the white flash of my tail. Arrows struck the trees around me, he was aiming well. I barely managed to avoid them. He was gaining on me and the arrows came closer to the mark, one stuck my backpack but fortunately did not reach my skin. Oh why did he have to be so perfect? I was in an awkward position, and my shots never got anywhere close to him. I couldn't keep it up much longer but he seemed to be doing fine. I couldn't see what was in front of me, trusting my instincts to avoid the trees. 

And then I tripped.


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