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Chapter 10 :

Rosie Deerest

"Well, I'm off to kill some fish."

Rosie was headed out of the bunkhouse just a short while after the morning shift, grabbing her wide straw brimmed hat as she went. The room was big, and split into sections with all the beds around the far edges, a living area in the middle and a decent sized kitchen in one corner. The only other girls present were Muffin and Jasmine, the former busy as always prepping the day's meals and the later curled up on the couch reading.

"Oh, don't say it like that!" Muffin called back at her, cringing at the statement.

"What? That's what it is." Rosie paused to look back at her, "I'm going out to trick fish into letting me murder them."

Muffin tried to cover her ears, though it was really more for effect than effective, "That's even worse!"

Rosie couldn't help but laugh, "Come on, Muffin. I've seen you scale, gut and bone a trout in less than a minute. How is this bothering you?"

"That's different..." She said, almost mumbling, "They're not moving anymore by the time I get them. I just pretend it's a slimy vegetable."

"The key with her is to obfuscate your language." Jasmine said, not looking up from her book, "Muffin, dear... Rosie is going out to repurpose some salmonids."

"See? That's better." Muffin said, one hand on her hip in a smug little pose, "I didn't understand anything she just said."

"Right." Rosie said, laughing as she turned back to leave, "Tell Henry I might be back a bit late. I scouted out a new spot up the creek I want to try, but it's a fair hike."

"Will do." Muffin replied, back to her cheerful self, "Have a good day, Rosie!"

She left the building, picking up the fishing pole that was leaning against it near the door as she went, and started out toward the far end of the property. It was a nice day, and the sun was playing off her faun colored markings in flashes of red and gold as she walked. At just over six feet tall, she was second in size only to Sophie, but much more lean than most of the other girls despite still being on the edge of full-figured. Her hair was the same color as the spots along her body. She kept it long and usually loose around the farm, but it was tied back in a ponytail whenever she went out into the back country to keep it from getting tangled in anything.

Once she got to the creek she turned to follow it upstream. It was a brisk pace, but one which often paused to snatch the occasional periwinkle out of the shallow waters around the edge. Jasmine would have explained that they were caddisfly larva for the hundredth time, but as far as Rosie was concerned they were just bait.

This was the role she had fallen into over the years. Protein was always an issue in the post changed world, and it wasn't just humans like Henry that needed it. Plants just weren't enough to feed the new brains the girls had grown into. A mind like a human's needs fuel, and that was harder to come by now. Birds weren't affected by the change so chicken was still an option, albeit an expensive one. Fish and shellfish were even worse, and governments the world over had been forced to pass laws restricting access to them to prevent entire species from being fished to extinction.

The better option lay with Rosie. She loved the peace of laying a line out in the water. She loved the excitement of feeling that first hit and setting the hook just right. She enjoyed it, she was good at it, and it served a worthwhile purpose for the farm.

It was the better part of an hour before she got near her goal. Up ahead she knew the creek opened up into a large pool around a few fallen logs. It was big, and it was deep. She knew something had to be living in there, and she aimed to pull it out. She always moved quietly, making sure to disturb as little as possible to mark her passing, so she slipped between a couple of bushes with barely with a rustle stronger than the breeze as the pool came into sight...

And she froze.

Opposite her across the water was a man, kneeling down to drink. Tall and lithe, his body covered in light brown hair, save for a band of white around the end of his snout and a patch of it on his upper chest. He had a tall six point rack of antlers on his head, bobbing as his tongue lapped at the water.

He was a deer. He was feral.

That was the word they used for it, and it was extremely uncommon. Not many wild animals survived the change. It took more than a month at best, leaving the individual crippled during stages where the body and bones were reforming themselves. The girls made it because they had help from Henry and each other, but out here it took nothing short of a miracle. It took access to food and water, and will enough to keep fighting through the pain to consume them.

Suddenly he saw her watching. He shot up straight and jumped backwards in surprise, still completely silent and staring at her with a look of absolute terror on his face.

"Wait!" She called to him, holding up a hand. She doubted he understood her, but it was all she could think to say. As she looked him over she noticed something else. Something very worrying. The first wound was on his right leg, completely healed but not well. The second was on his left arm just below the shoulder, and it couldn't have been more than three weeks old.

He'd been shot, and more than once.

His instincts made the decision for him then, and he turned to dart off into the trees. All she could do was watch him go, still amazed by what she had just seen.

Eventually she composed herself and went about what she came here for. Over the next few hours she pulled up a couple of decent sized brown trout, but nothing like the one she suspected was still down there. He was all she could think about though, and she spent most of the day distracted as she scanned the foliage for any sign that he had come back.

He never did.

She rolled into the barn late that night, as everyone else was already done and filtering out. This wasn't uncommon for her. Her trips into the wilderness often took longer than she planned. They took as long as they took, she always told herself. That's just the way it was.

"Evening, Henry." She said, moving over to her station at the far rail, unbuttoning her top as she did so. It would be more than a year before Megan hired on, so he was working alone.

"Evening Rosie." He said, pausing in his cleaning long enough to head over and start setting up her hoses, "How'd it go?"

"Caught a couple. Nothing spectacular." She said, leaning over a bit as she said it to let her pendulous breasts hang before him, then adding, "Saw a feral though."

Henry stopped what he was doing, looking up at her with concern, "Carnivore?"

"Deer. White tail." She said, shaking her head, "He ran once he noticed me."

Henry relaxed a bit, then went back to setting her up. He slipped the first glass cup over her thick nipple, a bead of milk already forming at the tip, "Interesting. Lone ferals are usually more curious than that once they realize they're not alone in the world."

"That's the thing. I don't think I was his first contact." She said, a little sigh of relief escaping once the second cup was in place and the pressure in her breasts was finally being relieved, "Someone's been shooting at him, and on more than one occasion."

Henry had moved around the rail, folding his arms as he regarded her with concern, "What are you thinking, Rosie?"

"I think someone has been hunting him." She said, shaking her head sadly, "I'm thinking they probably still are."

"Jesus..." Henry said, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, "Some folk just never stop trying to invent new sins."

"I guess not." She said in a rather distant tone.

Henry let the silence hang to collect his thoughts before finally saying, "If someone out there is willing to shoot at him, Rosie..."

"I'll need to borrow the Winchester." She replied before he could finish, referring to his old hunting rifle, "I'm going back out tomorrow."

He noticed something in her voice that worried him, "What are you planning?"

She looked over at him to make eye contact for the first time since she'd gotten in,"If I don't come back Henry, I reckon it's best to just leave it. Things that get lost out in the back country tend to stay lost for a reason."

He nodded slowly. Out of all the girls she was the most strong willed. There wasn't any point in arguing with her, and frankly he couldn't help but respect her descision despite his worries, "You promise me you'll be careful?"

"Of course." She said, watching him turn away toward her cabinet to fetch whatever milking aide she required, but she stopped him, "No need for that today. I'm not really in the mood."

"Fair enough." Henry said, changing his trajectory to resume his cleaning routine instead.

She just leaned on the rail in silence. These were the sort of thoughts a person needed to get lost in. He knew that all too well.

He let her be.

She was chasing him through the darkness, leaves smacking into her arms as she ran through the woods. He was ahead of her, and fast. She could barely keep up. She could barely see him.

White and glowing, his massive antlers flowing among the foliage like a beacon. He was leading her somewhere, and she had to follow. She needed to follow.

It felt like an eternity she had been on his trail, but eventually she lost sight of him. She could feel him nearby. She just had to keep running. She had to keep moving forward. She had to...

Escape.

She burst into a clearing and skidded to a halt, finding herself face to face with a sheer rock wall, it's base littered with skulls of fallen stags and does. He couldn't have gone through here. She could still feel him but she didn't know where. She spun around, scanning wildly for any sign just as someone else stepped out of the trees behind her.

It was herself. Gun in hand, raised and ready.

She had become him at some time during the run. She could feel him because she was him, and now she felt his terror as she watched herself point the rifle directly at her head...

And pull the trigger.

Rosie sat bolt upright as she woke out of the dream up, the gunshot still echoing through her mind.

It took a long moment to gather herself enough to realize where she was, but eventually she lay back again with a sigh. She knew she'd been twisting herself in knots over all this, but the dream had been so vivid. It felt real. It wasn't him in the dream though, and she found that curious.

A white stag. She knew a little of the mythology behind that, so it was probably just her dreaming mind twisting the situation into imagery that seemed more significant than it really was, but she was still shaken by it. It felt important.

After about ten minutes of consideration she finally came to a decision and sat back up to get out of her bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake anyone else. There was no way she was going to sleep any more tonight. The plan had been to head out after the morning shift in the barn, but it was clear to her now that she wasn't willing to wait that long. She needed to get out there and start tracking him.

It was still dark out as Rosie left the bunkhouse, slipping the Winchester rifle over her shoulder by the strap. It wasn't a fancy weapon by any means, and she'd removed the small scope that had once been on it. She couldn't line her eye up properly with the darn thing, but she did just fine with iron sights. Better than fine, even. At least that's the way she would have described it. Henry tended to praise her skills with words more akin to 'unbelievable' and 'impossible', but she wasn't the sort of woman that cared for too much overstatement. She was a good shot, and that was enough for her.

She'd been walking almost a half hour before the sky started to lighten, but the nearly half full moon at her back had done a fair job of helping her find her way up until then. She made her way up the same path she had followed the previous day, following the creek upstream to the pool where she had spotted him before.

The plan was simple enough. The spot where he had been drinking was marked by a narrow crease in the foliage. It was a deer trail, for lack of a better term. He probably went to that pool several times a day to drink. She crossed the creek on one of the fallen logs once she reached the fishing hole, made her way around to that subtle path and started off into the woods.

It was hard going in the early morning light at first, but the path became more visible and easier to follow as the sun came up enough to break through the canopy above. It was mostly straight, veering just a little bit here and there to avoid stands of nettles or pass by patches of blackberries. The path was more worn around the berry bushes, and she could tell he'd been spending time at them by how few berries were left on the vines. Just the ones too hard to reach or too green to eat.

Rosie was headed in the right direction. She was sure of that now, and it worried her how easy the trail was to follow. He clearly didn't know how to cover it, and if someone really was hunting him they would have just as easy of a time of following it as she did. This thought was further enforced when she came to an intersection with the path splitting to the north and south. She started off south at first, but after only a few minutes realized the trail was becoming more overgrown from disuse and doubled back. This time it was clear she'd chosen correctly, and before long the narrow trail opened up into a properly worn footpath as she followed it to the north before eventually opening up into...

All she could do at first was stare. Before her stood a massive granite boulder. It had created a bit of a clearing in the woods, despite being almost completely hidden from above by the canopy of several old trees. In a line around the base of the stone lay five skulls. All of them clearly deer. Little bits of decoration were scattered about each one. Colorful snail shells, stones and the like. Favorite things of each of the deceased, she guessed. She slipped the rifle off her shoulder and leaned it against the rock face, before kneeling down before the largest of the little shrines to examine it. It was clearly the eldest male of the group, with a massive ten point rack of antlers that looked eerily similar to the stag she had seen in the dream.

She reached out to it, running her finger over the hole dead center in its forehead, and she knew this one had died first. Henry was right about ferals. They tended to be curious when meeting other intelligent beings for the first time. These people's first encounter with a man must have been fascinating. Even as the hunter raised his weapon to fire they wouldn't have known to run. He died looking right down the barrel of the gun that killed him.

"You poor bastard..." She said with a sigh, "You never knew what was coming, did you?"

Rosie heard a noise behind her, and turned to find he had revealed himself at last. He was standing there, face twisted into an angry scowl and hands balled into fists. He started to yell at her, as if to try and scare her off. There were no words involved. He didn't know any words, just panicked bleeting sounds stuck somewhere between his old and new voices. Even though he was a full head taller she could tell he was scared, and she knew that if it had been anywhere else other than his sanctuary he would have simply stayed hidden or fled.

Rosie needed to communicate with him, and there was only one way she could think to do that. She moved toward him slowly. At first he stepped back away from her, but then leaned forward to yell again and try to push her away as she got close. She easily slipped past his guard to take him into a hug, holding him tightly as he tried to resist and squirm out of it, yelling in a mix of anger and fright that had started to devolve into tears as he pounded his fists against her back.

"It's alright..." She said, feeling him eventually start to relent and sag against her. He was sobbing openly now, "You're not alone. It's alright."

He fell to his knees, crying in her arms for what seemed like ages. His kind were always tall and wiry, but now that she was close she could feel how much of him was just skin over bones. Protein was always an issue. It was the whole reason she came out here to fish and hunt birds for the farm, but he had clearly been eating little more than leaves and berries. It wasn't enough.

She stroked his back until he started to calm, eventually breaking away from the hug enough to kneel down and check the bullet wound on his arm. It was healing better than she feared and didn't seem to be causing him much discomfort anymore. More importantly the bullet had gone clean through. She had only seen him from the front before, and her worry was that it might still be in there.

He just let her examine him, completely drained of all emotion. She could have done just about anything to him right then and he would have let her. He was tired. Tired of trying to survive. Tired of being alone. Tired of being afraid. He had nothing left to give at that moment, and all he could do was surrender to her.

"Rosie."

She said her name softly, snapping him out of his trance. His eyes came back to focus to look at her, now patting her chest as she said it again, "Rosie. That's me."

It had been a long time since he had used his voice for anything resembling a word, but names he understood.

"Ro... See." He said. The sounds were new enough, running the syllables together would take time, something she understood well.

She smiled at him, reaching over to pat his chest now instead, "Who are you?"

"Hoo... Ar..." He started to say, not understanding any of it.

"No no... Rosie." She stopped him, patting herself again before moving back to him to try and prompt him further.

It took a second, but he finally understood. He had a name once. Really little more than a sound to differentiate him from his family when they were together.

"Loo-oon." He said, struggling with his own tongue.

"Lune..." She said, holding her hand on his chest now, "It's a good name. Nice to meet you, Lune."

Of course he understood none of it, but he caught the meaning just the same and offered her a weak smile. She let her hand drop, rummaging around in the small satchel bag she was carrying. She had come prepared with an assortment of protein bars to get her through the next few days. But seeing how thin he was made her decide he probably needed it more. She opened one slowly, still worried about spooking the poor thing, removing the wrapper completely before offering it out to him.

"Here." She said, giving it a little shake to prompt him to take it, "Eat."

He took it timidly, giving it a skeptical sniff before deciding that he rather liked the sweetness he discovered. He took a small bite at first, chewing just a little before his eyes went wide and he looked at her. Then bit off about half of the rest of the bar in one go.

Rosie had to laugh. She doubted anyone else in the world had ever gotten that excited about a soy energy bar. It wasn't the first time someone had gained another person's trust with food, but she thought to herself, but why mess with a classic?

"I'm here to help, Lune." She said, the pair watching each other as he ate, "I'll protect you. I promise."

They spent the day together in the clearing. He showed her the shrines, saying to her each of their names and showing off the little trinkets that each of them had once called their own. Shiny stones from the creekside. Sticks and shells. A few man made baubles, like a shiny large ball bearing that must have come off a tractor somewhere.

Eventually the day wore on and dusk started to fall. Rosie was more tired than she would have liked, having gotten up much earlier than planned. Even he could tell, eventually leading her over to where he had piled up some tall grasses into a makeshift bed. She thanked him and lay back uncomfortably. She wasn't delicate. The ground was a fine enough place to sleep as far as she was concerned, but she'd gone the whole day without a milking now and the pressure in her breasts was becoming an issue. She unbuttoned her overshirt to release a little of the constriction, leaving them just covered in the more loose fitting t-shirt. It helped some, but not a lot.

She watched as he lay down beside her a short distance away, even in this wanting to be close but too polite to assume too much. Or perhaps too inexperienced to know what too much was. She couldn't say, but it didn't really matter. Sleep for now, she thought. She already needed to sneak off in the morning to scout out the area. Once was out of his sight, then she could deal with milking herself.

Despite the discomfort, it wasn't long before she had drifted off.

She couldn't be sure how long it had been, but sometime in the night Rosie realized that they weren't alone and sat upright. He was there again... Watching her this time, the white glow of his ghostly body illuminating the woods around them.

The white stag from her dream... But different this time. She knew this was a dream. Lucid and clear as a bell, but clearly a dream. He watched her for a long while...

Then motioned for her to follow.

She rose and did so, curious to where this would lead. He didn't run this time, striding quickly with purpose up one of the other paths from the clearing that she had not yet explored. This one did not deviate, simply leading straight to the west before opening up into rougher terrain and a field of huckleberries. The stag stopped there, and waited for her.

"He will come." It said, the voice deep but echoed as if spoken from miles away. It pointed to the rocky ridge in the distance, "There."

Rosie said nothing as she stepped forward to look, wondering if this was even a real place. If she woke up tomorrow and came out this way, would all this be here? The huckleberries? The rocks? It didn't seem plausible, but it felt real.

"Save our brother."

She turned, but it was already gone. The dream lingered on with a sense of warmth that flowed though her. A pleasant relief that was as much a cleansing of the spirit as it was of the body...

But that part wasn't the dream...

Her eyes opened for real this time, still laying in the grasses where she fad fallen asleep. Lune was there, over her now. Her shirt up, gently suckling from her left breast. It was the oddity of it at first that stopped her from doing anything, and she just watched.

He was tender. Eyes closed and lips pursed so as not to cause her any irritation as he drank from her. Gentle tugs at her nipple that wanted nothing more than it was willing to give to him, letting the flow of milk into his mouth without any sense of greed or desire.

She understood. Her shirt was bunched up on her chest and slightly moist. He must have noticed how bound up she was. He noticed the leaking and her fidgeting to get comfortable with them. This wasn't sexual for him. It was just an offer of relief to his only friend in the world so that she might sleep better.

He wasn't even aware that she had awoken until she adjusted herself, tugging her now stiffened nipple from his mouth to turn into him, letting a hand come up to cup her other breast and offer it up to his lips instead. He never even opened his eyes, simply suckling it up as he had with the other to start relieving the pressure there was well. She lay back again with a sigh and let her own eyes close, letting him feed himself off her freely.

She reached her hand up to scratch gently behind his ear, wondering how young he had been when his family had been killed. Had he even been weened yet himself? Was this just something he never learned that a person wasn't supposed to do as an adult? But he wasn't like a child either, going at her with teeth and hunger. This was just a kindness shared between two people who needed each other.

For Rosie it was the most intimate moment she had ever known. It was a memory she would cherish forever.

He finally rolled away onto his back once she was relieved, never once opening his eyes as he settled in to drift off once more. She just watched him, amazed at how so much affection could come of something that required no sex. She was a very sexual being, same as all the cattle at the farm. This was new to her, and she liked it. She pulled her shirt back down, closed her eyes with a smile, and went back to sleep.

They appeared on the ridge a few days later, just after noon. The sun was at their back, wearing light camo and orange vests to hide themselves from their target.

Everything here was where it had been in the dream, though not exactly. The ridge was further out. The huckleberries were pretty sparse, and being strangled out by blackberry vines that were taking over the area. It was all here though, and that was something very curious to her.

Rosie had set herself up in a lower position, not ideal but with a good view of the ridge should they appear. They would take the best vantage point of the berry patch, so she needed to take the second best to catch them there, about a hundred and twenty yards off to one side.

She took stock of the pair as she sighted them down. Even at this distance she finally understood what was going on. The younger man was about middle aged, wearing all brand new gear and wielding a rifle overpowered for hunting any kind of living thing smaller than a rhino. The older one was grizzled and unshaven with a long grey braid down his back. He had no weapon at all, but seemed to be giving instructions as they looked down off the ridge.

They were watching Lune, nervously gather berries to take back to his clearing. He knew he was exposed, and he was trying to be quick. Grab what he could and retreat to the safety of the woods. He had no idea that the younger man had laid down on the ridge now and was drawing a bead on him. He had no idea that the bullet that was coming was about to tear him in half. He had no idea that the man had his hand on the trigger, and was slowly starting to pull.

The shot cracked through the valley, sending bird scattering into the air. Everyone was shocked. The older man shot to his feet in surprise. The younger one rolled to his side, letting the rifle drop as he examine the blood seeping into the arm of his new camouflage jacket. Lune ran, dropping his gathered berries as he dashed back into the woods in terror.

Everyone was shocked. Everyone except Rosie, who calmly let the breath out of her lungs and fired again.

Minutes later she had covered the distance to the ridge, coming up upon the pair with her rifle drawn, "Do you two have any idea how stupid you look in those orange vests?"

The younger man looked at her, panicked and trying to figure out what was going on, "What?"

"Those vests, you idiot. People wore them so other hunters wouldn't shoot them by accident." She said with a snort, "I came here to shoot you on purpose. You just made yourselves all the easier to gun down."

"Kill her..." It was the older one this time that spoke, holding his belly where she had hit him square, "God dammit... Kill her..."

"But she's..." The younger man stammered.

"I've spent days trying to figure out what sort of man hunts another intelligent being for sport." Rosie cut them off, shaking her head, "I guess in my mind I had this idea that it was someone that just couldn't let go. Someone that loved and needed the hunt enough that this was the only recourse. I could have empathized with that almost. Maybe even understood."

"Beasts... Don't understand... Anything..." The older one seethed. His wound was bad, but it wasn't intended to kill. Not right away.

"What I understand is that you are a monster." She said to him with a sneer, "This wasn't about the thrill. It was about money. You're just a guide selling tours to rich people. One last chance to kill a deer in the wild."

"He's just... an animal..." The old one said, coughing up some blood, "An abomination..."

"Animals don't make graves for their families, you asshole!" She screamed back at him, "They don't remember their names and cry for them years later!"

"Graves?" The younger man said, looking back at the guide, "But you said he wasn't intelligent... You said he was still wild."

"I'm sure he said a lot of things." Rosie said, no longer caring about the explanation. She looked at the younger man now, a look in her eye that worried him greatly, "Can you find your way back out of here?"

"Yes." He said, nodding excitedly at the thought of a way out, "Please, just let me go."

"Then go." She said, watching as he rose to his feet reaching for his rifle as he did so. She spun to train the Winchester on him, "Leave it."

"Right... Yeah." He said, turning to start moving quickly back the way he came.

"Traitor!" The old man called, spurting blood as he did so, "You turn your back on humanity!"

"How many times?" Rosie said, calmly now as she moved to stand over him, "How many people have you brought out here to try and kill him? I know at least twice, from the wounds... But how many missed? How many times did you terrorize him?"

"Who cares?" He started to laugh at her, the gaps in his teeth filled with the same blood that was running off his chin, "As many as it takes to wipe all of you out. Abominations... You're all an affront to God."

"I'm sure you're a real righteous man, sir..." She said, leveling the rifle at his head, "How much does righteousness pay these days? How much did he give you to bring him out here?"

He said nothing, just kept laughing. He would have bled out soon, but that wouldn't be good enough for her. She wasn't a god fearing woman. She only believed in doing what was right, and right now that was only one thing...

Making sure.

She pulled the trigger.

It was several hours before she returned to the clearing. The man had been a monster while alive, but she was a true hunter. A true hunter respects their kills. She buried him just below the ridge along with the rifle they had brought along for the hunt, building him a little cross to mark the grave out of sticks lashed together with the laces from one of his boots.

Rosie couldn't imagine a world where any kind of God was on this man's side, but it was still what he believed. She'd won. No reason to deprive him of that now.

She made a detour around the clearing to reach to creek first to clean herself up, getting as much of the blood off of her as she could. Thankfully she had managed to keep it out of her clothes. That was the last thing she needed was to roll back into the farm looking like she just butchered a man. She wasn't going back to the farm though. Not yet.

She found Lune in the clearing, curled up next to the stone up against the largest of the skulls as if the antlers of his fallen brother could protect him. After the dreams, she almost wondered if they could. She could tell he had been crying, and even now as he looked at her he didn't move. Just gently rocking himself, lost in the terror he had lived through so many times before.

She tossed it to the ground between them, and his mouth opened slightly in shock.

A long grey braid, cut from the man that had been the cause of all of this.

"It's over, Lune." She said quietly, letting the Winchester fall beside her and holding her arms out to him, "It's all over now."

He rose quickly, darting into her hug and crying again. She held him tight and stroked the back of his neck, repeating the words again and again...

"It's over..."

He'd gone to rest before her that evening, as she made the decision to add one more item to the shrines. She dug a small grave off to the side, this one for a dear friend of her own. A companion on many a trip into the wilderness, and a partner on the hunts she used to cherish.

She buried the Winchester. She'd lost her taste for hunting, and no gun that had ever been used to kill a man could come back from that stain.

"Goodbye, my old friend." She said, a tear forming in her eye as she knelt before the freshly turned earth, "Thank you."

Eventually she rose, moving to lay next to Lune in the tall grass where he was already comfortable and watching her. She gave him a smile, reaching over to stroke his cheek. He smiled back at her. For all the horror he'd been through, she knew it would get better. It would take time, but it would.

He started to close his eyes, but she sat up to take off her overshirt completely, laying back and taking his hand to get his attention, making sure he saw as she lifted up the thin fabric of her t-shirt to expose her breasts for him again. He had feasted on her milk every night since she had come here, but until now she had let him do it at his own pace. She needed this now though. She needed the peace of it. She wanted that feeling of relief and intimacy that came with it to help her deal with the nightmare of a day they had just gone through.

He complied willingly, rolling up to start nibbling at her nipple gently with his lips to moisten it and gently drink from her once more. She couldn't help but sigh, and reached up to cradle his head in her arms. He drained her heavy beasts each in turn, no longer needing to be prompted when it was time to switch and start gingerly tugging at the fleshy nub to let it stiffen and dribble out on his tongue.

This is what she wanted. This sense of tranquility, if only for a moment.

When she was done he rolled back, giving her a smile as he settled into the grass again and closed his eyes. She watched him, wondering what was to become of them next. She had to return to the farm tomorrow. She had to let everyone know she was still alive and get back to work. This might be their last night together for a while, and the thought of it left her awash in a sense of melancholy.

His eyes opened as she rolled up next to him, pressing her body against his. Her hand came down against his groin to start stroking at the sheath, causing him to jump a little in surprise. He tried to look at her, but she tucked her head under his snout instead to lay against him, as she tried to gently draw out his arousal.

It didn't take much before the pink tip of his penis had poked out, and she moved her fingers up to that to tug it instead, as if gingerly pulling a tissue from the box that threatened to tear if yanked to hard. With each little stroke it seemed to get longer, pink and tapered with a nearly human crown save for the pointy slope near the hole. He was breathing heavy, not really sure what has happening but not wanting to stop it. Once it was fully erect, she finally wrapped her whole hand around it and gave a few longer strokes to make sure it was nice and ready. It was. A little less than a foot and twitching with excitement.

She let him go, rolling away to stand and undo her jeans, slipping them off quickly. She always wore boxers instead of panties, but soon they too were discarded and she stood before him nearly naked except for the shirt that was still pulled up to expose her breasts. Once that was done she lay back down facing him, letting her legs fall open to expose already glistening sex for him to stare at.

"Lune..." She said, holding her arms out to him, inviting him onto her and inside of her. Even he knew what this meant, despite the fact that he had never done it before. But then, neither had she. Even her daughter was the result of insemination, not love. The feel of being with a man was something she'd never had the chance to experience, and she wanted it.

He rose up to crawl over the top of her. He wasn't embarrassed in the slightest. He didn't know enough about society for that sort of reaction. All he knew was that there was a woman here, and she was giving herself to him. That was something he could understand. It was simple. It was instinct.

He looked down at her, his member prodding at the opening of her womanhood without guidance and finding no purchase as it tried to find a home. She reached down to loop a finger under it, settling it just right against herself so that the next pump of his hips got it right and he slid inside. He practically fell on top of her, letting the weight of his body drive it home completely with a shudder. She gasped, wrapping her arms around his back. It was nothing she couldn't handle, feeling the fuzz around the sheath tickling at her labia, but it was more full that she had ever been.

No little vibrating toy. No turkey baster insemination. A real man, buried inside her otherwise virgin pussy to a depth that had never been explored before.

He started to hump his hips against her, but even in this he was gentle. Silent and almost graceful as he slid in and out of her in long strokes.

It didn't take much for her to reach her peak. Barely a few pumps and she had already squirted out a large stream of lubricant over his testicles, signalling how close she really was. Just a few more and she fell into bliss, throwing her head back and spasming around him. He didn't even slow, he just kept going going at his measured and even pace like he'd been doing this his whole life. No desire to force what was happening to her, or what was about to happen for him.

She was just starting to come down when she heard him starting to pant, his mouth dropping open as she looked up at him through hazy eyes. There was something about this that just seemed more real than reality. Making love to wild feral in the woods, unspoiled by words or worldly desires. It was everything she ever could have dreamed of, and she couldn't help but start right back towards a second climax even as the first was telling her body to beg for respite.

This time they came together. He sped up only a little before his end, short white tail upright and flicking excitedly as he slid in and out of her again and again. Just at the last second he pushed forward to hold himself there, his head dropping against her chest and letting his antlers fall around her head like a cage against the ground. She felt him shudder and swell. She felt the heavy seed escape his shaft and into her body. She heard him moan...

"Ro... See..."

It was a long and gasped. One of the only words he knew, but said with such admiration and love that it set her off again. She wrapped her legs tightly around his to hold him inside her, as if he would fall out and waste the gift that she wanted so badly to fill her inside. She convulsed against him in her own throes of pleasure, giving and receiving fully... Sharing their bodies in one magical moment that no one could ever take from them.

They drifted...

In each other... In the wilderness... In a world unknown to all but them...

And to sleep.

Rosie stood up slowly , knowing he would be there waiting just as he had been before. This time he wasn't alone. The five of them stood around the stone in the clearing watching her. Him at the center, the others around him. All standing where their graves were in the real world. All glowing and white.

The dream again.

This time they all filed out past her, one by one making their way to the path that had led her here days before and disappearing into the foliage. They didn't need to tell her to follow. She waited for the last to pass, and fell in line behind them.

It was a short journey. Almost as soon as Rosie entered the trees everything began to turn to a mist that lasted only a moment before parting again ahead of her. She stood now in a place less like the wilds she had been in for nearly a week, and a lot more like civilization. A town of sorts, filled with longhouses and tall tents. It seemed a lot like photos she'd seen of some of the more rural Native American tribes in the past, and she was confused by it.

The five that brought her here formed in a line before her, each bowing their heads and fading off into vapor and ether as they vanished until only the largest buck remained. He folded his arms as he watched her silently, and as he did so others started to form. Not ghosts like him, but deer like Lune. Appearing from the houses and tents by the dozens to watch her.

"Guide him to us." The white stag finally said as she looked around at those gathered, "He has tended our graves long enough. Let him live among the living."

She looked back at him wondering if this could possibly be real, but somehow in her heart she knew it was. This time she was sure of it.

"You have my word." She finally said.

The stag smiled back at her and started to fade into mist, all the people and houses around them doing the same as she fell back out of the dream until all that was left was a distant voice in the fog...

"Thank you."

She awoke then, sitting up to find him sleeping fast beside her. She turned to the graves in the darkness, feeling the as if warm eyes were staring back at her from the dark and empty skulls that lay there. She looked back at them...

And she nodded, "You have my word."

It was almost a month later. Rosie had been back to the farm on and off quite a bit by now, splitting her time between her duties and her newfound friend in the forest. That's where she was now, as Henry moved out to meet the unknown vehicle that had pulled into the end of the drive.

A man stepped out to greet him, along with two others from the passenger side and rear. The driver was male, with a wide rack of antlers that necessitated the top having been removed from the old Cadillac he was driving. The other two were female, and free of having to deal with those sort of problems. All deer, and all dressed nicely for the occasion.

"Welcome to Hoyt Farm." Henry said, regarding them curiously as he approached, "Is there something we can do for you folks?"

"We were contacted by someone named Rosie." The man said, looking around at the farm curiously, noting the group of children that had stopped playing in the field nearby to watch them, "She said she wanted us to meet someone."

"You must mean Lune." Henry nodded. Rosie had a habit of not saying more than she needed to, so he wasn't surprised she forgot to tell him this was coming, "She headed out into the back country yesterday. Probably to fetch him."

"He really is feral, then?" One of the does asked curiously.

"He is, and he's had a rough go of it." Henry said, folding his arms, "Someone had been hunting him, from what I understand. Killed his whole family for sport."

"That's... Horrid." Came the reply as the woman drew in on herself, "Humans just..."

"Not all of us." Henry said, letting the bass drop into his voice to make sure they knew he was not about to be lumped into any generalization, "The changed have allies among humanity too. Don't write us off yet."

"I'm sorry." She said, looking away, "I didn't mean to imply."

Henry nodded by way of accepting the apology, looking towards the back of the property as Rosie came into view pulling a very nervous looking young deer behind her. She'd finally gotten him to wear some clothes, though all he would agree to amounted to little more than a loincloth. He didn't understand why she wanted him to wear it, but she just wanted him to look presentable. He'd never been to the farm, and he really didn't think he wanted to be here now.

"Come on, Lune." She said trying to comfort and pull him along, "These are my friends. You're safe here."

He was reluctant to say the least, but over the last month he had started to learn some of the language and the words comforted him.

"It is okay?" He said cautiously, watching as Muffin and Jasmine appeared out of the bunkhouse to see what was going on and noting how much like Rosie they were, "Family?"

"My family, yes." She said as she looped his arm in his, "And others. Someone wants to meet you."

She led him out toward the road, hearing him gasp as he saw the other deer gathered out by the entrance of the property. He was so surprised to see others like him that he didn't even notice Henry until they got close, at which point he nearly jumped out of his skin at the urge to turn and run.

"Family, Lune! Henry is family!" She wrapped an arm around him to stop him from leaving, and it made him feel safer despite himself, "Henry is good. Not like the other ones."

The older buck moved forward to greet them, hoping he could take attention away from the younger one's fear, "Lune, is it? My name is Black Tail. It's truly a pleasure to meet you."

Lune stared back at him, nodding but not really understanding everything he just said. He'd only just started learning to speak, "Hello."

"They're like you, Lune." Rosie said, letting her grip loosen, "They want you to live with them. They want to be your family."

"Rosie?" He said curiously. He was better at her name now, "I... Leave?"

She nodded stroking his arm, "It's time for you to move on, Lune. You need to live among the living."

He looked back and forth between them. He couldn't deny that the thought of being with his own kind again had triggered something inside of him. He wanted to go with them. He felt like he was supposed to. He vaguely remembered someone telling him he should...

From a dream.

"You come too?" He asked her, turning to face her.

Her hand came up to stroke his cheek, a sad smile crossing her lips, "I can't. My family is here. I belong here."

"No..." He said, leaning down toward her to put his hands on her shoulders, "You come too... You..."

"Mom?" Came a voice from behind him, and he turned to look at a little girl that was now sitting on the fence. She was covered in reddish spots, dressed in coveralls and a baseball cap. She was a tomboy, just like her mother, "What's going on?"

"This is my friend Lune. From the woods, remember?" Rosie moved over to the fence, letting the little girl practically jump into her arms and carrying her back, "Lune, this is Gracie."

It was all it took. He understood now. She couldn't leave here. She could leave her daughter, any more than she could take her away from the rest of her family. He stood there looking at them for a long while before a sad smile came across his lips, and he nodded.

"I will miss you." He finally said.

"I'll miss you too." She said, moving forward to nuzzle his snout with her own, "But we will see each other again. I promise. We're going to talk to each other all the time."

He didn't understand how that would be possible. But then, there was a lot of ground to cover before he would learn about the internet and video chat. A lot of ground.

"We should get going." Black Tail said, moving back to the car. One of the does came to take Lune by the hand and he followed along with her. She showed him how to get into the car, which he did awkwardly. He about leapt back out again as it started up, but the girl managed to calm him down and soon enough it was back on the road and speeding away.

He was scared at first. Then amazed. By the time they'd gotten a half mile out and cruising at a brisk forty miles an hour, he was absolutely thrilled. Smiling from ear to ear as the world zipped past.

Rosie meanwhile let her daughter to the ground with a sigh, "Go on and play, kiddo. I'll come see you in a bit, okay?"

The girl started to turn away, then turned back give her a mother a hug instead. It was just what she needed. Rosie held her tight for a moment before letting her run back off to hop the fence and into the field.

"You gonna be alright?" Henry asked, genuinely concerned, "That was a pretty selfless thing you just did."

"It was the right thing." She replied, and the pair fell in step as they started back toward the bunkhouses. It was a long thought before she spoke again to ask, "Do you still believe in God, Henry?"

"Well now, that's a pretty heavy question." He said, eyebrows raised at the scope of it. He took a little time, then replied, "I suppose if you mean do I believe in singing hymns, praying for my soul and dropping a few coins in the plate, then no. Not any more."

She turned her head to look at him as they walked, "But you do believe something, don't you."

"The more I live in this world, the more I think it's not about what we believe." He said, shaking his head somewhat sadly, "Good and evil are real. That much I know. I figure if a man only chooses to do good because there's a reward at the end, then he probably wasn't that good to begin with."

She just looked away again silently.

"What brought upon you the need to ask, Rosie?" He said, knowing there was more to it than just a curious thought.

"I saw things out there. I had dreams that weren't real... But they had to have been real to make sense of everything that happened." She said, shaking her head as if in disbelief, "I saw things I can't reconcile."

"Some things don't require our understanding, any more than they require our faith." Henry said with a shrug of one shoulder, "Some things just require us to take action based on our best judgement with what resources we have available."

She paused a moment to think about that, and he stopped with her, "Thanks, Henry. I think that actually helps."

"Don't mention it." He said with a smile, putting an arm around her as they started walking again, "Hey, whatever happened to the Winchester, anyway?"

"Sorry." She replied, putting her arm around him in kind, "I must have lost it somewhere."

"Well I reckon it's best just to leave it." He said with a sigh, "A wise woman once told me that things that get lost out in the back country tend to stay lost for a reason."

"Sounds like a pretty smart woman." She said as they approached the bunkhouse, eyeballing Muffin and Jasmine who were still standing near the doorway, "I bet she's great at killing fish."

Muffin covered her ears and cringed, "Ahh! Darn it, Rosie!"

"Right, sorry." She said with a wink, "Obfuscate some trout?"

"Actually, no. It was..." Jasmine said, rolling her eyes before noticing that her partner had started to relax anyway, "You know what? Close enough. Muffin, dear, why don't we go see what's left of breakfast for our wayward sister, hmm?"

Instantly Muffin's face lit up, and she started back inside, "There's still some veggie gravy left! I'll whip up some biscuits! Only take a minute!"

Rosie watched them vanish back into the building with a laugh. Henry had already turned to leave, but he only went a few paces before stopping to look back at her.

"You're a righteous woman, Rosie." He said, giving her a smile in which she could feel how proud he was of her. Not like a father, as it was with some of the girls. More like a sibling. Or a true friend.

But she couldn't help but be struck by his choice of words.

"How much does righteousness pay these days?" She asked, folding her arms and tilting her head at him.

"Not much." He said, laughing as he turned away again to leave. He called back over his shoulder to her...

"But the benefits are good."