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"Uncle Sam! Uncle Sam!"

The little fawn came hurtling towards him, short pudgy arms wrapping around one of the tall red stag's legs as he walked in through the entrance. Sam made an oof noise and swayed back a little.

"Hello, Kyla." He reached down to pet the fawn's soft head. "Gosh, aren't you strong? You nearly knocked me over!" He continued to walk forward, pulling the young deer with him. The fawn giggled, squeezing her uncle's leg as she was carried bodily along.

"Uncle Sam!" she shrieked. "There's, there's, there's a pool, and a lake, and we went for a walk, and I saw a big spider, and Daddy threw a stick at it, and then he said a bad word, and Mommy slapped his arm, and I went for a swim, and the lake is all muddy, and my fur got dirty, and then it dried, and I looked like a monster from a swamp, and..."

Sam nodded along pleasantly as his niece rattled off everything that had happened to her recently, adding relevant noises of surprise and amazement. The tiny fawn was no hindrance to his motion; his strong thighs easily lifted the extra weight. Thank you, squats, he thought absently. When the little girl paused in her explanatory torrent to pull in a breath, he interjected.

"That's amazing, sweetie. But do you know where Mommy and Daddy are, Kyla?"

"Ummmmmm..." The doe's face scrunched up into an expression of furious thought. "Um, um, Mommy is helping with lunch, and ummmm, Daddy is..." A huge shrug almost dislodged her. "I dunno!" She gripped his leg more tightly. "Swing me, Uncle Sam!" she demanded. Sam lifted his leg, swinging it back and forth like the clapper of a bell, making the fawn shriek with delight.

"Kyla?" A doe emerged from the house ahead, wiping her hands on a cloth. "Kyla," she called, "let Uncle Sam walk normally, now. Don't be a bother." Kyla's little hands let go and she dashed over to her mother, powered by the infinite energy of youth. Sam followed at a more sedate pace.

"Hello, Olivia," he said with a smile when he got close, giving the doe a peck on the cheek. She smiled back.

"Good to see you, Sam." Kyla was alternately dashing around them and tugging at her mother's tail. Olivia looked down with a frown. "Behave, Kyla!"

"Mommy! I want to show Uncle Sam the thing I found on the walk!" The fawn practically vibrated with excitement.

"Let Uncle Sam relax a bit first, Kyla," Olivia told her daughter. "He's only just arrived. Go ask Daddy where it is."

Kyla pouted, then yelled "Okay!" and sped indoors again. The two deer watched her go, and Sam chuckled.

"I can't believe how big she's gotten in just one year," the buck said.

Olivia huffed, blowing a breath up her face, making the fine hairs on her forehead dance about. "Twice as big means ten times the handful. She just never stops running, that one." Her words were soft, and her eyes motherly; she looked after her child with love. "Silly monster." She glanced back at Sam, eyeing his backpack. "You need help with that?"

The well-muscled stag pulled on the strap and shrugged. "Nah, I got it." He looked about casually. "Where's Danny?"

"He's out back, starting the fire."

"What? Only now?"

Olivia burst into laughter. "That's exactly what he said you'd say." She patted his shoulder affectionately. "Come on in. You two can have a lovely bicker about how to make a barbecue."

The two deer walked into the house, filled with the scent of cedar wood and the warmth of cooking. "Just put it anywhere," Olivia said of his backpack. "I'm busy roasting some potatoes and other veggies. You're fine with broccoli, right?"

"Oh, you know me so well. Cheese sauce?"

"Always. I remember." The doe smiled at him, and he chuckled. "You're looking good," she added, and Sam smiled and nodded in appreciation.

"Thanks. Trying to keep that middle-aged creep at bay as long as I can, you know." He'd been successful, too; the women he dated often took him for a stag ten or more years younger.

As he walked over to put his bag down, his antlers caught against a light fixture, and he gave an exasperated grunt. Olivia looked up at his enormous rack, shaking her head."Every year now, huh?"

Sam reached up to feel them with a wry smile. "Yeah...." His fingers felt the fading velvet that covered them and scratched at the base. They itched like hell. "Won't be long now. Just...kinda feels like a family tradition at this point. Worth it."

His sister-in-law chuckled. "I don't know how you last this long with those, honestly. Danny was swearing like a sailor for a month until his came off. Couldn't wait to get rid of them."

Sam chuckled. "Well, Danny needs to learn a bit of self-control, maybe, huh?"

They could hear low conversation outside, at the back of the house, and then Kyla came dashing back inside. "Mommy! Daddy says he doesn't know where the thing is!"

"Alright, dear," Olivia said maternally. "Just sit down, we'll find it in a bit. Where's your colouring book? Why don't you colour a nice picture for Uncle Sam?" Kyla glanced at Sam, who nodded his agreement.

"I'd love your beautiful art for my wall, Kyla," the stag said. "Why don't you draw all of us? Then I'll be able to remember the family reunion all year, until the next one." The young fawn beamed and skipped over to a pile of bags on a couch, digging through them and extracting a colouring book and a bag of pencils.

"'kay!" she yelled. With a tongue sticking out, she settled to her knees and attacked the paper with colouring pens, as if good art was merely a matter of intensity.

Olivia moved back to the kitchen, fussing around, and Sam took a moment to look around the house. It was quite attractive, which was nice. The place they'd rented the year before had looked nothing like the pictures. This one was all wood panelling and high ceilings, with a large stone hearth dominating the central living area. That would be excellent for the chill autumn night. The seaside place from four years back was still his favourite, though.

He headed to the back door, pressing the screen door open and stepping back into golden afternoon light. Ahead, another stag stood with his back to him, prodding at a fire. Smoke swirled into the sky above him, and the odd "for fuck sakes" joined it. Sam walked closer.

"You should have started this at least an hour ago, Danny," he said pleasantly. He came to stand alongside his brother, who was looking down fiercely at a raging fire. The light reflected in his glasses, making them seem to shimmer and move, and his ears flicked about in annoyance. He'd already lost his antlers for the year; his head was smooth, unruffled fur.

"I fucking got this, Sam," Danny told him. "It's the fucking...firelighters or something. They're too hot."

Sam leaned against the wall. "No, you started it too late, and now you're having to put too much wood on to get enough coals in time." He pointed at a large log. "Take that off. Make another smaller fire, we can combine the coals after."

Danny stared down at the blaze with a frown. "No, it'll fucking work, just..."

Sam sighed and grabbed a pair of tongs. "Here, I'll show you."

"No, don't do that!" Danny growled as his brother started to disassemble the fire. "You're gonna fucking ruin it..."

"Shush." Sam carefully moved burning logs to one side. "Kyla's gotten big, hey?" he noted. His brother's face looked up, suddenly transformed into a dumb, happy expression.

"Yeah, hasn't she?" he agreed. "I can't believe it. We measure her against the door frame at home. I swear she's grown a little every week. Olivia's dreading the 'buy new clothes every month' phase." Sam chuckled as he piled more wood on top of his secondary fire.

"Sounds like fun...okay, there. See?" Two fires blazed away happily next to one another, and Sam waved his hands in the air. "Tada!"

"Thanks, fire magician," his brother replied. The smaller stag prodded at the fires with a twig, but all seemed well, and he tossed the stick on top. "Can you pop your head in and ask Olivia to get the meat out of the fridge in about twenty minutes?"

"Sure." The taller stag did so, then returned to lean against the wall. He looked down at his brother. He had almost a foot on Danny; he'd been looking down at his younger sibling since puberty. But that was simply the most obvious difference between the brothers. Most people would never peg them for being family, let alone siblings. Danny's leaner, wispier frame looked like the concept sketch to Sam's filled-out, musclebound form, and his awkward face lacked the handsome lines of his brother's. His glasses merely stressed their differences. He wasn't unattractive, he was just...not a Sam.

While his tall, good-looking brother had gained the attention of every doe -- and probably some of the bucks -- in school, Danny had been the studious one who didn't have a date to the prom. But after school, when the acne cleared up, and he lost weight, he'd found Olivia -- and fifteen years later, they were as close as ever. Sam might need triple digits to count all the pussy he'd fucked since high school, but Danny had a wonderful little family, and the taller stag was genuinely happy for his brother. It just wasn't the life for him.

"How are you doing, Danny?" he asked, seriously, and Danny looked up at him with a blink, and then a smile.

"Oh, good, yeah...yeah. Um...working on expanding the branch, you know. Maybe, um, well...maybe even gonna get a second franchise. Dunno. Still, like, deciding...now that Kyla's around, you know...." But his brother had stepped forward to slap him on the back before he stopped speaking.

"Danny! That's huge!" Sam grinned at his brother. "Do it, man! You got a knack for this stuff, I'm telling you." Danny blushed, his ears flattening outward, and he gave an uncertain shrug.

"Yeah, maybe...I think so...hehe." He smiled at his brother, his ears perking back up in his direction. "And you?"

"Ah, same old, you know," Sam said, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. He sold exercise supplements; it paid the bills. Despite how he looked, he never touched the stuff. But clients didn't need to know that. "Got a new flavour of powder in. That's about it."

"What happened with the Elementa contract?"

"Oh!" Sam snapped his fingers. "Yeah! So, you remember they wanted to buy in bulk, right? I figured they were going to resell for sure. So I asked around; got some buddies who work the seedier joints..."

Time passed quickly as the brothers caught up. Olivia brought the meat out; the heavenly smell of cooking salmon filled the heavy, still air. As the sun slowly lowered, and the cicadas chirruped endlessly, the four of them gathered inside for a late lunch. Kyla proudly showed off her drawing of them all standing, holding hands, and received the necessary praise; Sam proclaimed that it would adorn his fridge for eternity. Food was passed around, and conversation too. The deer chatted about old, familiar topics, and laughed, happy to be in one another's company again.

At some point, Danny sighed contentedly and looked across at his brother as the tall stag dug into his favourite cheesy broccoli. "We need to do this more," he said. Like he did every year. Sam smiled back.

"We do. But once a year is better than never." It was hard, making their schedules align, and they both knew it. But they said the words anyway. Like they did every year.

Once dessert had been served and devoured, the adults slumped back into their chairs, sated. Kyla had gone back to her drawings once the adults got to chatting about adult things, and her soft scratching noises were the background their conversation. Finally, Olivia yawned and got to her feet.

"Phew." She patted her belly. "That was really delicious. Thanks, boys." Two vague hands rose in acknowledgement, and the doe sniffed. "I think Kyla and I might take a bit of a walk, to work the calories off. It's a lovely afternoon. You guys wanna come with?"

Sam kept his eyes focused on the ceiling where he'd been looking. "Nah, not me, thanks." A second or two later, Danny's equally relaxed voice also spoke.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna relax inside for now, honey. Will you be long?"

The doe smirked and blew a raspberry at them. "Typical lazy stags. About half an hour, I think." She held out a hand and called to Kyla. "Come, sweetie. Let's let Daddy and Uncle Sam get fat in peace. Do you want to go play in the lake again?"

"Yes!" the little girl squealed, followed by a torrent of additional requests as her mother led her outside. Their chatter could be heard for several minutes before it faded away into the low hum of the autumn afternoon.

They relaxed for a while, until Danny snorted. He pushed himself to his hooves and sauntered over to the couches, falling into one with a grunt and exhaling. Sam followed suit, settling into a seat opposite his brother. Neither of them said a word. They relaxed, hands across bellies, eyes shut. The cicadas arguing outside, and the faint, distant drone of a plane were the only other sounds louder than their deep, satisfied breathing.

Sam waited.

He knew his place. He knew what to do. Merely...wait. Wait for his brother to...to do his thing. He stretched his arms out along the couch and casually spread his hooves. Air reached up his pants leg and tickled under his arms. His scent would waft into the air. It would be faint, now; autumn was no spring. But a nose that was looking for it might smell it. Would smell it.

In this state of repose, the itching of his overdue antlers was harder to ignore. But he didn't even try to scratch them. He waited, motionless. The silence seemed to grow deeper. He couldn't hear his brother's breathing anymore. One might expect him to have fallen asleep, with a full stomach on this warm day. But Sam knew he wouldn't dare. He couldn't. This was their time. The problem wasn't staying awake; it was enduring the wait. The wonderful pain of anticipation that would drag on and on and on, until Danny decided to...

His brother took a deep, exaggerated sniff of the air. "Fuck, Sammy." His brother's tone was almost mocking. "Is that you I smell?"

Sam's body tensed, and his cock jerked. Yes. Yes.

"Yes," he said, and Danny grunted.

"You smell like a doe." The silence returned for a little while, and then: "You still seeing that other doe?" his brother asked. His tone was as casual as they came, but Sam took a sharp breath in. The anticipation was a spinning ball in his stomach.

"Yeah," he replied, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice. His heart had sped up, and a line of sweat formed, right behind his ear; it began running down his neck.

"What was her name again?"

"Gillie." The name changed annually, but Danny didn't really care.

"Gillie the doe. Right." Sam's eyes floated down from the ceiling and met his brother's. Danny's eyes -- golden and brown, like his own -- looked large through his thin-framed glasses, and they stared at his sibling intently. "She still got that sweet cunt?" he asked, as if inquiring about a sweet corn recipe.

Sam's fingers shook a little, and he pressed his hands into the fabric of the sofa to still them. "Yeah," he replied, voice a little hoarse. The line of sweat had reached the base of his neck, and was oozing down towards his clavicle now. The itching of his antlers grew worse as his scalp began to sweat as well.

"Nice. Nice," Danny repeated. He was sitting absolutely still, his eyes fixed on his brother. "Does she moan when you fuck her, Sammy?" Every word slid out as smooth as liquid metal. He could have said it in front of a crowd, and people would have taken a few seconds to realise what he'd said.

Only Danny called him Sammy. His name wasn't Samuel: just Sam. If anyone else tried to get informal with him like that, he shut it down. But Danny had called him that since they were kids, because it rhymed. And it's what he'd called him the first time when he'd...when they'd...

Sam only let Danny call him that.

"Yeah," he said, unable to obscure the roughness in his voice now. "She moans a lot. She loves to be fucked." His cock was thickening; Danny would surely be able to see the outline of it in his pants. Sam hoped so. He wanted his brother to see what he was doing to him.

Danny stood up suddenly, rubbing his hands together and tilting his head a little. He rested his weight on one hoof and tapped the other gently against the floor. The glasses made his stare seem even more focused than it was. Sam looked down to one side, afraid -- excited -- to meet his brother's look. Danny fished his phone out of a pocket and glanced at it.

"When last did you two fuck, Sammy?" he asked casually. He showed the phone to Sam, the clock on-screen. "It's half past two now. Thirty-two minutes past."

Sammy did the math. "Eight days." He had to pause to swallow; it felt like a horse's flare was blocking his throat. "Eight days...seventeen hours....and six minutes."

Danny tapped at his phone, as if confirming something, and nodded. "That's a long break for you, huh? A stud like you, Sammy...you must want to fuck once a day at least. Or more. Probably more. Heh." As if he didn't know. The stag slipped the phone back into a pocket and crossed his arms, watching his brother. "What made you take such a long break from sex, Sammy?" he inquired in a voice full of care.

Sam gulped down a whimper and closed his hands into fists to stop their shaking from betraying him. Not that it mattered. It was so obvious. "Y...you sent me a text," he said, breathlessly. "Y--you told me...not to fuck anyone from the moment I got it. Or t--to jerk off. And t--to count the...the time..." Every minute had been beautiful agony. It had occupied his every waking moment.

Danny took a single step closer. "And did you listen?"

Sam nodded rapidly. "Yes." As he'd done for years. Every year. Without fail.

Another step. "Yes...who?"

Sam screwed his eyes shut, then opened them again. His cock was at full mast now, and starting to drool into his pants. "Yes...brother." Danny was close enough to smell now. He smelled like...rut. He smelled like every dominant deer in history, soaking the air around them in their scent to proclaim their ability, their need, their right to breed.

"And did Gillie ask you to fuck during that time?"

"Yes, brother."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her I wasn't in the mood."

"Was that the truth?"

"No, brother."

"What was the truth?"

Simply thinking about it again was torture. "I was so horny, I thought I would die," Sam whimpered. "I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed dreaming of sex. I needed to cum so badly I thought my balls would explode." He'd cried in the shower the one day, the need was so great. "I couldn't focus on anything. Nothing mattered. I needed..."

"What did you need, Sammy?" His brother's caring voice was as a flame: searing, then cauterising. Painbringer and analgesic same. Sam almost reached for his cock, but resisted at the last moment. Danny must have noticed.

"I needed my brother's fat prick," Sam said hoarsely, looking up at his sibling. His lover.

Danny took another step. "Good, Sammy," he murmured. His intonation changed, becoming slightly mocking. "My big stud brother...all pent up. Needing a release." He reached down to his crotch, and slowly unzipped himself. "You've got really big antlers, Sammy," he said, not bothering to look up at his sibling's points. "Such a masculine adornment. I bet all the does think it means you've got a big dick." He reached through the zip and pulled himself out. "Poor sluts."

His brother was big. Scary big. Sammy was probably an inch under average; Danny was double his length. The stag's semi-hard flesh throbbed with blood, angry crimson, and when his brother pulled back his foreskin, the smell of his head filled Sammy's nostrils. The tall stag was thrown back in time, to their teen years. To the days when Danny had been maturing, a few years after himself. Sam had watched in disbelief -- after showers, and while changing -- as his brother's cock simply kept getting bigger, seemingly day by day. It hadn't made sense: why did the nerdy, pudgy stag get a prick like that, and he had to make do with his little one? It hadn't seemed fair...until their dynamic changed.

Sam couldn't explain it. He didn't want to. He had no idea what it said about him -- them -- as sexual beings. They both loved pussy, but...alone, in the bedroom, two brothers...he couldn't even pin down when it had happened. He remembered making a jealous comment to Danny about his dick, and Danny shooting back with an unexpectedly arrogant reply. Sam had been shocked into silence as a strange emotion rippled through him. Danny had stared back, and repeated the statement, and Sam had given a gasp. The combination of his brother's big dick and his attitude had been...unexpectedly arousing. And it had seemed to affect Danny the same way, because he'd pressed his advantage. Stepping closer. His older brother seated on the bed; he, standing over him. Not only longer than him then, but seeming taller as well. Telling Sam what a stud he thought he was, but yet it was his little brother who had the porn cock. Little bro was better than big bro. Little bro was the stag, and Sammy wasn't. Sammy might as well be a...doe.

Neither of them had truly known what was happening, and by the time Danny's prick was filling Sam's throat, they hadn't cared. It had been the first time, but far from the last.

After Sam moved out, it had had to change. They didn't see one another as often. Danny had formalised it, naturally. Danny was in control of what they had. He decided everything: the text message, several days before, instructing him not to orgasm until told. The wait, on the first day, until Danny was ready to ask his questions. And -- a recent addition -- the exquisite finale. The antlers.

Danny gripped one of his antlers now, and Sam moaned as the action relieved some of the pressure. "Look at these big fuckers, huh?" his brother noted, like he was inspecting a fruit. He pulled down on one of them. "They must itch like shit, Sammy. I got rid of mine like a month ago. Why'd you keep yours?"

Sammy whimpered. "Because you told me to. Brother." The smell of his brother's cock was his world. He salivated for the maleness before him. He wished to pleasure this dominant stag; he felt he might die if he didn't. He was leaking pre-cum so fast now it was soaking right through his underwear. Soon it would be able to run down his leg.

"Yeah," Danny agreed, smug and arrogant and so fucking sexy. "I did." He lifted his cock and slapped it against his brother's face. "And you did as you were told...so you get a reward."

There was no subtlety to it. Sam opened his mouth, and Danny shoved his dick into it. Not for the first time, Sam was grateful that his brother's prick was at least tapered; he didn't know how gay guys managed to swallow dicks like those blunt-headed suffocation monsters that horses or bulls had. Danny's cock had a reasonable-sized head which thickened out along the shaft, making for a pleasant, gradual swallow. Time to feel it all. Taste it all. The taste of Danny's pre-cum was wonderful; it tasted exactly like his own. Whether that was because of their shared species, or their genes, Sam never expected to find out. He didn't want to suck other guy's dicks.

Only his brother's.

Danny took his antlers firmly in hand for grip, and began thrusting into Sam's mouth. His glans felt silky smooth on Sam's tongue, and the foreskin rolled back and forth with each movement of his hips. It was the same every time they fucked, and Sam adored it. Instantly familiar, instantly pleasurable. Hearing his little brother's moans as he fucked the softness of his sibling's mouth. Feeling the flesh inside him pulsing to his brother's heartbeat. And what was rapidly becoming his most favourite sensation: the half-pain, half-pleasure of the tugging against his loose antlers.

Deeper, the cock drove, lustfully seeking new depths. Sam's nose was pressed into his brother's crotch now. He stank of rut, and it made Sam painfully hard. His brother was in breeding heat for him. He probably told his wife it was for her, but it wasn't. It was for his tall, handsome, muscular, small-dicked brother. His smell of domination was exuded as a secret mark, to say: I own you. Sam moaned, making his throat flutter around Danny's cockhead, and hearing his little brother gasp at the feeling. His hips moved faster now. They both knew they couldn't take forever. They only had a short time.

It was part of the arousal.

"I'm gonna cum in you, Sammy," Danny said with a huff, and Sam gave a guttural groan of approval. He pushed his head forward more, getting as much of his sibling's member down his throat as he could. He loved the way it felt to have his brother's most intimate flesh within him. Their closeness made manifest. Nobody else in the world could give him this. Even if he sucked a thousand other dicks, none of them would be Danny. None of them would be his brother.

"I'm gonna empty my balls in your throat, Sammy," his brother continued. He only spoke dirty when he was close. "I've been waiting, stud...my balls are so fucking full. You think you can take it all, brother?" Sam knew he could. Danny's balls didn't look like anything special, but they pumped out a cum-shot that did his dick proud. It always flooded Sam's throat and backed up into his mouth, letting him taste a stag's most primal flavour. Salty, and acrid, and delicious because it was from his own blood. A brother's gift.

The pace of the face-fucking increased, and Sam heard his brother's moans speed up. It wouldn't be long. The stag let himself relax, almost going limp; swaying back and forth to the rhythm of his dominant little brother's fuck. He was a sleeve for him, a vessel for his pleasure. His brother was in control, and this was the proof. Sam could only serve him, as a cum-dump to ease his bestial rut...

"Fuck...oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuuuck, Sammy, gonna cum, Sammy, oh fuck you're warm, so fucking nice, Sammy, love fucking your throat...yeah, yeah...gonna fill your throat up, doeboy...yeah...YEAH...yeeeeaaaahhhh...!"

Sam felt the pressure on his antlers increase, and he nearly came there and then. He wished he could speak, to tell his brother how much he wanted this. But it was more important to suck his dick. The pressure on his skull grew and grew, and the sense of itching inversely with it. Danny was tugging on them now, one in each hand: half his length thrusting in and out of Sam's throat. Harder and harder...his filthy words getting ruttier and filthier with each pull. Sam's face was being slammed into his brother's crotch now; it would be painful but for the waves of pleasure emanating from his skull as his antlers were tugged repeatedly. He gasped for breath around the cock inside him, wishing for it to happen, his dick hard as stone, wet as need...

It all happened at once.

Sam felt the pressure on his skull abruptly vanish as his antlers finally detached. Danny screamed in triumph as he emasculated his brother, and his cock gave one fat throb before beginning to pump it's hot, fraternal load into Sam. As the waves of pleasure emanating from Sam's skull met the taste and heat of his little brother's semen filling him, his own orgasm arrived. Not having touched himself once, it was an uneven, slimy affair; his seed didn't so much spray as ooze in irregular spurts: now big, now small. His underwear became soaked in seconds, and the thick white fluid started to drool down his leg fur.

Danny bucked into Sam's throat with clenched teeth and snorted, animalistic noises as he emptied himself. Sam didn't know how many days his brother held back before their annual trysts; he hoped it was none. He wanted to believe his little brother was capable of a seeding a male this intensely with no prior warning. Gobs of semen rolled around his mouth, and he swallowed as fast as he could, only for them to be replaced with more. All he could taste was Danny. All he could feel was blood-hot, throbbing, dominant stag cock.

The throat-fucking gradually slowed, and then ended. Danny was breathing hard when he pulled out, his chest rising and falling, his cock slick with cum and spit; already shrinking. In each hand he still held a detached antler, and he looked at them with satisfaction before tossing them to his brother.

"There you go, Sammy," he said, with all the command and dominance of an alpha stag. "Now you look like a doe again." Sam simply bit his lip, unable to speak as his erratic, almost-ruined orgasm continued to squeeze out of his little dick. Danny watched him with confident eyes. "Such a hot fuck," he said. "Nobody's got a throat like you. Now, or ever." He sniffed. "But you stink of cum. Go wash before the girls get home. Then you can make your little keepsake. While I watch."

---

Olivia and Kyla arrived about fifteen minutes later. The fawn was mud-streaked, exhausted, and delighted; she immediately began showing off her carefully-curated collection of rocks, leaves and dirt to her father.

Olivia wandered over to Sam as her husband and daughter looked intently at a pebble. The tall stag sat with his antlers in his lap, carving symbols into them with a paring knife. "Finally came off, huh?" he said, patting his flat head. "Must be a relief."

Sam looked up at her and grinned. "You have no idea."

Olivia took the finished antler in hand, admiring the carving. "What are you carving into it again? B...T?" One letter adorned each antler, and Sam nodded, blowing a breath into the arm of the "T" on the second antler to dislodge loose material.

"Yep. Means 'Being Together'." He smiled at her delighted giggle.

"That's so sweet, Sam." She kissed his smooth head. "We love seeing you too." She wandered back to sit next to her husband as their daughter continued to display her bounty. Sam looked at them all with a smile, then back down at his carving. Almost done.

"You carve those every year, hey, Sam?" Danny said, looking up from a nameless variegated leaf that his daughter continued to pressed keenly into his face to make him take notice of.

"Sure do!" Sam said brightly.

"I always wanted to ask...where do you keep them all?" Olivia asked.

"I'm sure he tosses them, dear," Danny said. He looked over, meeting his brother's eyes directly. "I doubt he's got a room full of antlers from every reunion saved as a reminder, after all." His eyes glinted, and one might have said a small smile formed. "Can you imagine if someone told you to do that, hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah...just imagine," Sam said. He would need to add another glass-fronted case to the room this year. This pair would fill the last one.

He lowered his head and continued to carve his Bitch Trophy.