Rejection ::

OBSESSION love in cold blood ... It was as if the woman was born to these implications of cruelty, svelte body serving as a shield that was stalwart and ready to take the brunt of whatever savage transgressions the lead hind was prepared to offer.  Her hooves were still; her head lofted in that poise of utmost regality that was both haughty and undeniable.  Ever the portrait of a woman born to royalty, she was relentless with her image and even more-so with her perusal of the charcoal cloaked doe.  Kriemhild knew that she could not afford to reject her; their numbers were growing thin in the passing months as the herds began to forget their old customs.  Or perhaps it is our clandestine caution that pushes them away.  The musing was hushed, still upon her tongue as ivory ears flicked forward in a swift motion to capture the doe's promising words. Her smile was sweet, sickening, an emblem of warm welcome and she moved forward as if she were to resume her trek through the forest.  "What is your name?"  She would make one subtle motion for the other doe to follow.  The hind moved almost silently, the train of colourful feathers rustling like swaying trees with each languid step she made.  They served as the only treason to her existence this night in the woods where springs embrace still worked upon the land; flowers began to bud and the trees sprouted life at the end of their gnarled, naked branches.  "And why are you so eager to throw yourself to the wolves?  So to speak, of course."