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It was a feeling Will had grown well-accustomed to by now: the piercing sensation of someone else's eyes on him.
It came from decades of living in the forest, being born in its depths and learning from infancy the importance of situational awareness. One never knew when predatory eyes were on them, so the only option was to tread carefully.
And treading carefully was Will's specialty. His mother had passed not long after his birth, so throughout his youth he relied on his father to train him for the wild. They spent many nights alone together, never finding a true bevy to belong to. His father preferred it that way; he found it hard to trust other bevies, and he wanted nothing to do with them no matter how welcoming they seemed.
As soon as Will reached adulthood, his father disappeared. Will knew why, deep down; neither of them could escape the inevitability of the color leaching from his father's fur, red giving way to white. The way he was no longer able to run the way he used to. His father took the route of an honorable mutt, skulking away to go die and save its family from the turmoil of watching it happen.
And now Will was alone. Except he wasn't.
He woke in the middle of the night to the unmistakable sensation of being watched. It was a warm night, and cicada season had approached once more. Will couldn't stand the things, but their sound was always a comforting reminder of the passage of time. One day, this trivial life would no longer matter, and he would burrow in the ground to be with his father and the cicadas. He would no longer have to wake up alone.
Their song permeated through the otherwise silent night, and the moon was half-full. It peeked out from behind the clouds, which covered the stars. The hair on Will's neck tingled, and he pushed himself into a seated position as his head swiveled around. From the looks of it, there was no one around, but he knew better than to shrug his shoulders and go back to sleep. He narrowed his eyes, sharpening his vision enough to peer further into the branches.
Set far back, from the dark crevices between the trunks, a pair of amber eyes was pointed directly at him.
He was standing in an instant, lowering his head to point his antlers forward. He dared not turn his back; the best scenario he could hope for was to watch the other creature turn and run away on its own. Fauns had no prey, they were prey. Nothing had to worry about turning its back on a faun-- except, in certain cases, other fauns. As his father said, their kind were unpredictable.
"Who's there?" Will said. He took a small step forward, hooves sinking into the wet dirt. The eyes blinked, and then they vanished, the familiar sound of a faun's gait following them. Someone, one of his kind, was watching Will.
Will wasn't sure why, but he broke into a sprint. Perhaps it was the haze of sleep that still hung over him, clouding his decision-making, or perhaps it was the desperate need to find out why someone would bother watching him. Perhaps it was utter boredom. Whatever the case, he was dashing out into the trees in no time, following the sound.
"Stop!" he cried out, an admittedly stupid act. The last thing he should have been doing was drawing attention to himself. His stalker didn't listen. They weaved through the trees like an expert, second only to Will. They should have known better than to go up against someone who had been traversing the trees alone since birth.
It wasn't long before he was gaining on his victim, and he launched himself forward to get his arms around their legs. His hands encircled their fur-covered ankles, and they collapsed to the ground with a loud thud. The other faun tried to wriggle free, but Will pressed his entire weight on them, and they eventually fell still.
Will finally got the chance to look. It was a faun he'd never seen before, one with sharp cheekbones and a pronounced brow that hung over his almond-shaped eyes. His irises were a deep amber, and his lips were a thin Cupid's bow. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, and his light hair was messily draped across his forehead. Strong antlers protruded from his head.
He was handsome. Will stared at him, eyes wide, still processing the fact he was being watched for who knows how long.
"Who-- I--"
A sudden rustling from the surrounding area startled Will out of his thoughts. Twigs snapped under the strong hooves of a group of stags emerging from the forest, their eyes narrow with suspicion.
After a long stretch of silence, in which every member of the party analyzed one another-- Will's head turning back and forth between the faun on the ground and the group to his other side, and the bevy trying to ascertain what was happening-- one of them spoke.
"You've made a foolish decision," said a stag with dark fur and skin, "intruding on our property and attacking one of our own."
Of course this was his bevy. His stalker had been caught in the act, and he ran right back home. Will's head spun as he counted the members of the bevy who had bothered to emerge: seven, as far as he could see. He was greatly outnumbered. Any hope of darting away or fighting his way out of this was quickly extinguished.
Will kept a straight face. Showing fear would be the most foolish thing of all. "I woke up to find him on my property," he replied. "He was watching me as I slept. For all I knew, he was going to steal from me."
"You were alone," Will's victim interrupted, causing every head to turn his way. His voice was gravelly, and he had a unique accent. "Without a bevy, that property belongs to no one."
Will's cheeks flushed with anger. "You were watching me."
"I had no intention of harming you. I was merely investigating." The stag's eyes shifted ever so slightly to a space behind Will, and before Will could turn to see what he was looking at, two pairs of hands gripped his arms and lifted him off of the stag on the ground. His stalker stood, brushing himself off.
Will's captors dragged him over to the rest of the group, where the dark faun glared down at him. "A bevy has every right to defend itself from an intruder," he said.
"I don't plan on staying. I'll leave you all alone."
"Can we be sure of that? If you suspect one of us of being a thief, then we have every reason to suspect you." The two stags threw Will to the ground, and he looked over his shoulder to the one who had gotten him into this mess in the first place. His expression was stoic, unreadable, as he watched his bevy rearing to attack Will.
Anger bubbled in Will's gut. He wasn't going to sit here and take whatever punishment they wanted to dole out. His father had taught him better than that.
He looked his stalker in the eyes with pure rage, letting him know he was the one in power now without having to say a single word. He shifted into a better position, balancing on his legs in preparation to spring forward. The stag seemed to pick up on what Will's plan was, and to Will's surprise, he stepped aside. He was going to let Will run.
Will let himself go slack in a false show of defeat. All he needed was a split second for the group to let their guard down, and they did just that. They began to speak among themselves in hushed voices, and Will lunged, thrusting his antlers in a wide arc that slashed his antlers against many of their bodies. They stumbled, and Will took the opportunity to bolt.
He darted around the trees, the wind blowing in his face and causing his eyes to water. He ran even through the blur, slashing through hanging branches with his antlers and vaulting over rotting logs and rocks. A rush of adrenaline coursed through him; even being chased, there was something so freeing about shooting through the forest so fast he blended in with the rest of nature around him. In these moments, he didn't feel as alone as he usually did.
He ran for as long as his body would allow him to, even long after the last set of footsteps behind him died down. He refused to assume the chase was over. He went as far as he could, dodging areas he knew were already taken by other bevies, and when he was certain his legs couldn't move any further he collapsed by a small creek. The water babbled beside him, beckoning him with its song, and he stooped to take a few sips. It wasn't the cleanest, but it was cool and refreshing enough. It did wonders for his wind-dried throat.
The cicadas sang around him, unaffected by Will's plight. Even when he was in danger, the rest of the world continued on. It was a comforting and terrifying thought.
He had no fears about running into any of the stags again. It was dark enough that he probably didn't have to worry about being recognized again come morning. Besides, he'd already taken in all the small details of the area, storing them away in his mind for the next time he was exploring. The rock that sort of resembled the base of a tree, the small pond a few yards north of, the trunk with a massive hole that allowed one to see all the way to the other side. He wouldn't go anywhere near that place again.
This wasn't his first time trying to escape. This wasn't the first time another stag's blood had stained the velvet of his antlers.
He checked one more time to make sure no one was watching him, before sinking back into sleep.
~~~
Birds sang their morning tunes as Will opened his eyes once more. The sky was now a brilliant orange as the sun was halfway into the sky, the trees casting long shadows around him. Will nestled his head into the grass and sighed; this was his favorite time of day. Revitalized and ready to forget about last night, he focused on his breathing and tried to coax himself into more sleep. He needed to catch up on what he'd lost, and his muscles were sore from his long run.
He wasn't sure how long he drifted, but when he opened his eyes, orange had shifted to blue. Warmth spread through him as the sun shone down, touching his pale skin. He smiled softly to himself and turned his head to get another drink.
What he saw nearly made him jump out of his skin. Right across from the creek, mere feet away from him, the stag he chased last night was curled up on the ground. Once again, his eyes were fixed on Will, watching him.
Will jumped to his feet, sore legs burning in protest. "Are there more of you?" he asked. "Did you bring them?"
The stag stayed on the ground. "We're all alone," he replied calmly. "They gave up shortly after you ran. You did quite the number on one of them with your antlers. You're lucky none of them are dead. And that it was dark."
Will relaxed a little. "...What about you?"
"I kept going. I stepped in your tracks so anyone else would believe they were mine." He closed his eyes and leaned forward to take his own sip from the creek. Like he hadn't almost gotten Will killed last night. "You're quite fast."
"What do you want from me? Why do you keep watching me?"
"I'm only seeking conversation." His features were even more alluring in the sunlight. His eyes were a brilliant amber, and there were faint lines in his face. He was older. "Forgive me for last night. I should have known better than to run right back to my bevy. Tobias can be rather territorial."
"You didn't tell them to stop," Will bit back. "Who knows what they would have done to me?"
"It wouldn't have made a difference had I spoken up. I don't have the power the rest do. It likely would have gotten us in more trouble if I had."
"You say like we were in cahoots. You were stalking me, and I defended myself. You could have told them that."
"Well, I was also unsure what your goal was. You never said anything."
Will closed his eyes for a moment, clenching his teeth in frustration. "Can you just tell me what you want? Why were you watching me sleep?"
"I didn't intend to stumble upon you. I was merely checking if you were alone or awake."
"Why, so you could steal food from me? Bring your bevy over so they could push me out?"
"What's your name?"
Will suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. The stag's utter calm, the way he refused to answer any of Will's questions, was infuriating. "Why should I tell you?"
"It's only polite." He stretched languidly in the sun. "My name is Hannibal. I would prefer you give me something in return."
Hannibal. The word had an otherworldly quality. Will resisted the urge to repeat it. "Will," he replied. "Answering questions is also polite."
"Will." He nodded. "I had no intention of harming you or taking any of your property. I was on a walk, and I came across your area. I was unaware of any bevies residing on that land, so I was checking to see if you were alone. That was my only reasoning."
"You could have explained that to me before I chased you across half the forest."
"You lowered your antlers and ran towards me aggressively. I wasn't going to stand there and explain myself."
Will sighed, lowering himself back to the ground and running his hand over his face. He was suddenly exhausted again. "Look, I just want to be done with the whole thing. Thanks for explaining yourself. Are we finished?"
"As I said, I am seeking conversation." Hannibal tilted his head. "There are some things I would like to know."
"And why should I give you those answers?"
"I need a way to pass the time. After all, I am meant to be killing you right now."
Will stuttered. "I'm sorry?" Never in his life had he heard of such behavior from a bevy. That, paired with the quick aggression from the previous night, were signs of a highly unusual group.
"It's why I covered your tracks. I didn't want there to be evidence you were still alive. As punishment for wandering, and for letting you get away, the bevy told me to go find you and not come back until you were dead. They are quite unhappy with the way you injured them, and they are even more unhappy with me for how I handled it all."
"They were unnecessarily aggressive."
"I could argue you were, as well. We can talk about who is at fault all morning, but their order still stands."
"So now an entire bevy wants me dead, and they've assigned you to kill me."
"Yes. You're lucky they chose me to carry it out, as opposed to someone who actually wanted you dead."
Will stared at him, bewildered. How could this stag have not a care in the world when it came to jeopardizing someone else's life? "Yeah. I feel really lucky right now."
"Little do they know I will not be returning." Hannibal gazed at the grass, enamored by a ladybug perched on one of the delicate blades. "If they don't desire me back until you're dead, then I am never coming back."
"You're not gonna kill me?"
His eyes darted back up to Will, and he quirked an eyebrow in a strange expression of amused disbelief. As if Will was foolish for even considering the possibility.
"I have no desire to see you dead, no." Back to the ladybug. "I find you much too interesting, and my bevy much too dull, to do that."
"Your bevy is..."
"Reactive? Unscrupulous? Rude, perhaps?" He smirked. "Yes. They are."
"How'd you end up with them?"
"A complicated set of circumstances. They found me in my time of need, and I must give them credit for how they protected me in my youth. However, their methods have not grown on me, even as I've grown. The more I began to observe it, the more disdain I felt. They are a group of the unfairly treated, fostering each other's anger, set on revenge. They are echoing their own arguments inside a dark cave they refuse to leave."
"You did seem pretty separate from them."
"It's about time for a fresh start, anyway." Hannibal slowly raised his hand to the blade of grass, offering his pointer finger to the ladybug. It crawled onto the pad, and he leaned in to study its patterns. Even nature was calm around him. He waited until it fluttered away to speak again. "You're a very impressive runner. A match even for me. You seem to know every inch of this forest well."
"...I've had plenty of time to look around. Practice."
"Are you without a bevy?"
"I've always preferred it that way." Will shook his head. "But maybe it'd be a good idea now, considering one is on the hunt for me."
"They'll forget about it the moment someone else stumbles upon our area. And the memories of your face will fade into obscurity over time. There's plenty of space."
"Hard to forget about someone once they've drawn blood from you."
"You'd be surprised. Their attention spans are feisty, yet short," Hannibal replied. "I, for one, was impressed with your quick thinking. You showed not a hint of fear."
"Showing fear isn't smart." Will closed his eyes, lying back against the grass. It was slick and cool with morning dew.
"Were you afraid?"
"A little. As much as anyone else would be when you're outnumbered, facing injury or death from an unpredictable bevy of stags."
"When you swung your head upward, slashing those above you with your antlers, did you act out of fear? Or were some of your actions influenced by anger? Did a boiling desire to escape the troubling situation cloud your judgement, or were you clear-minded?"
Will opened his eyes again, stunned. He stared across the creek at this strange, discomforting presence. "I'm sorry?"
"Is the scent of stag blood a new sensation to you? Or was last night not your first time in such a situation?"
"I...you're getting very personal, Hannibal. Why exactly are you asking me this?" Will furrowed his brow, bewildered.
"Your actions are indicative of someone who has had to fight for his life before. Someone who feels a slight uptick of fear, but not enough to hinder your ability to fight back and run." Hannibal's eyes bore into him. "Watching you piqued my interest."
"What about when you were watching me sleep?"
Will meant for it to be a sarcastic dig, but Hannibal seemed to consider it as if it were genuine. "Part of the reason I was watching you was because of the way you slept. You were curled into yourself, whimpering, face drawn as if you were experiencing pain. I thought you were hurt."
Will had spent so many years sleeping alone that he'd never realized he did those things. The thought sent heat through his face, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "If I was hurt, would you have helped me? Or would you have just left me there?"
"When the fox hears the rabbit scream, it comes running, but not to help." Hannibal's tongue darted out to moisten his thin lips. "I would have analyzed the situation further before deciding if you were in need of my help. And that's exactly what I did. It turns out you were not in need."
"Again, all you needed to do was say something."
"And again, you appeared aggressive. I would prefer to not go back and forth on this all morning." He didn't appear annoyed, despite his words. He was clinical in his tone, never judging, only observing.
"I just want to know why you have such an interest in me." Will shrugged. "You said part of the reason you kept watching was because of the way I was sleeping. What was the other part?"
"Unlike the others in my bevy, I can see rather well in the dark. I'm assuming you can, too, given the way you navigated the trees last night." He waited for Will to nod. "I could see your face. Your expression, twisted in fear of something happening in your own head. And I thought, even through the pain, you were the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen."
Will's lips parted, and he inhaled sharply. Words evaded him.
Hannibal rose to his feet, stretching his legs casually as if this wasn't the weirdest thing he could have said to a stranger. "I won't continue to bother you, if you don't wish. I appreciate you giving me the time of day."
"I..." Will paused. He was still trying to figure out the proper way to respond. What was he supposed to say to that? "Should I expect to find you watching me again?"
Hannibal's lips turned up in a small smile, the first one Will had seen from him. "As much as the idea tempts me, I would prefer to not have a repeat of last night."
Will took in the sight of him once more. His fur was lighter, around the same sandy color as his hair. He was muscular, well-toned, and something about his features commanded Will to keep looking. He was magnetic. His unapologetic questioning, while annoying, was also refreshing to Will, as someone who hadn't had a long conversation with another stag in a long time.
"You know, I wouldn't really care if you wanted to watch me in a much less creepy manner. Like, up close." Will smirked back at him. "It causes a lot less trouble if you just ask first."
The smile grew. "I will keep that in mind. No more chasing each other around, Will?"
"No. Save your stamina for when your bevy realizes I'm still alive. Maybe their revenge plots will shift in your direction."
Hannibal considered this. "It may be a bad idea for either of us to be wandering without any sort of protection."
"Are you suggesting we seek protection in each other?"
Hannibal's eyes shifted around, taking in every part of Will. "I certainly wouldn't mind. I would hate for you to find yourself in a situation similar to last night. Especially if I was not there to watch you fight yourself out of it."
"Watch. Not help." Will scoffed. "I'm beginning to think you might have done all of this on purpose."
"I can assure you, most of it was not intentional." Hannibal put his hand on his chest.
Will couldn't bring himself to be mad; above all else, he was curious. This stag had quite literally stumbled into his life and changed its trajectory in one night. Despite that, he had no remorse, no outward sign of even noticing what he'd done. He was remarkably serene.
Will had never had a companion. He'd never considered himself as someone in need of protection, nor had he ever protected anyone before. Both were strange developments, but not necessarily unpleasant. It was something different. Like Hannibal said, perhaps it was time for a fresh start. Perhaps it was time to get used to the feeling of eyes on him.
"If we're to stick together," Will said, "I suppose you'd better sit back down."
"For your troubles, I'll catch a meal for us. I'm quite the hunter."
"I'm sure you are." Will nodded. He wasn't going to turn down a free meal. "I can expect you back here in a little while, then?"
"You have my word."
He tilted his head in the other direction and sprinted off, muscled limbs working majestically. Will watched him until he was a mere speck in the distance.
He could get used to this.
~~~
As it turned out, Hannibal was a rather good companion.
He had talents that typically evaded Will; while Will was better at catching fish, Hannibal was better at playing the long game. He could wait for hours behind trees, stalking their next meal. His catches were clean and free of any marks besides a single bite to the throat, the indents of Hannibal's fang-like canines still visible and crusted with dried blood. The animal would have never seen it coming.
"No need for unnecessary suffering," he said one day after he caught Will examining the mark. "I consider myself an ethical butcher."
Ethical was perhaps not the right word for how Hannibal typically behaved, but Will wasn't going to tell him that. After all, he was no saint himself.
It took a few months for Will to warm up to him. His confession was entirely unplanned, spilling from him on a random night by a crackling fire Hannibal had built for them. They were eating the day's respective hunts-- Will had cooked them a fish, and Hannibal had gathered fresh berries for dessert-- when Hannibal suddenly set down his food and inched closer to Will, staring into his eyes. Will stared back for a long while, waiting for Hannibal to speak, but he didn't.
"...Can I help you?" Hannibal was always a little strange, but this was beyond the usual amount. "It's rude to stare."
"I've quite enjoyed this life we've created, Will," Hannibal replied. "I hope you feel the same."
Will's face flushed, and he hoped it was masked by the firelight. "I...yeah, me too. It's been nice, having someone else around."
Hannibal brought a hand up to Will's cheek, pressing his palm against Will's warm skin. His hands were strong and calloused, but his touch was the softest thing Will had ever known. "My opinion has not changed," he said. "You are still the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."
Will's lips turned up in an embarrassed smile. "I still don't know how I'm supposed to respond to that."
"You do not have to respond." Hannibal began to lean closer at such a slow pace that Will almost didn't notice it. "I only want you to know how I feel. You are not required to come up with something to say back. You are not even required to feel the same way about me."
Will saw the opportunity Hannibal was extending. Both of them knew full well that Will was not the type to express his feelings, and he would never outright admit his attraction to Hannibal. It was why he never knew how to respond-- phrases like I think you're beautiful, too were not common utterances for someone like him. This, however, was an easy admittance. Hannibal was prompting him in such a way that only a few words would get across the message that would otherwise be impossible.
"I know," Will replied. "But I do."
Will caught the way Hannibal's eyes lit up, even with the reflection of the fire in them. Will leaned toward those eyes, bringing their faces close until their lips pressed together. It was a short and gentle kiss, a prelude to something greater to come, but it caused a bitter anxiety to rise in Will's throat. He couldn't let this escalate without letting his truth out into the air.
"Hannibal," he said softly, "I have to tell you something."
And he did. He let the entire story loose, finally releasing it after years of keeping it captive in the darkest recesses of his mind. It spilled from his lips like water from a burst dam: the cry of fear from an innocent voice ringing through the trees, Will's mad dash to find the source, leading up to him stumbling upon the sight of another stag-- a stag whose name he'd never learned, one with almost grey-brown fur-- pinning a young doe to the ground. A sharp stone in the stag's hand, murder in his eyes as he held it up to her neck. The coldness in his gaze as he looked Will right in the eye and dragged it across her throat before Will could stop him.
She died in Will's arms, after the stag died with Will's antlers inside his chest.
Hannibal listened with a straight face the entire time. The most expression he gave was a slight tilt of his head, a tiny glint of interest in his eyes. Will wasn't sure if it was reassuring, or if it was only making the anxiety worse.
There was a long pause after Will finished, like Hannibal was making sure the story was over.
"You've never told anyone this before," he finally said. It wasn't a question.
"No," Will replied. "I haven't. There's...there's been no one to tell."
"Does that day haunt you?"
"She haunts me. The doe. I wish I could have saved her. Found them before any of that could have happened. Acted faster before he slashed her throat."
"Do not blame yourself. You delivered justice and saved other potential victims from the same fate."
"What if that wasn't his first time?" Will glanced down at the ground. "Who knows how long he was out there doing those sorts of things?"
"The leaf has already fallen from the tree. No single thought or action can reverse the trajectory of time. Do not let your mind spiral into thinking you are responsible for performing such an impossible act." Hannibal took his hand. "You were clear to say the doe haunts you. Not the event itself. Why is that?"
Will forced himself to look into Hannibal's eyes again, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I feel a lot of guilt surrounding that day. I wonder all the time what I could have done differently. But no matter the scenario," he lowered his voice, "I don't feel a single ounce of guilt about killing him."
He couldn't be sure Hannibal would take the news well, but the relief that came from admitting it was worth the risk. It was a truth about himself he'd been waiting to spill for years, one he couldn't hold back any longer. It would devastate him if his first companion was scared away by the knowledge, but it would be best in the long run. Will didn't want to be around anyone who wouldn't accept that part of himself.
For the first time, Hannibal truly beamed. Even in the face of Will's intense, angry stare, he smiled wide enough to show a glimpse of his teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling beautifully like folded flower petals. Will's stomach fluttered.
"I thought it was impossible for you to become more lovely," Hannibal said. "And you have proven me wrong."
A tension Will wasn't even aware of spilled out of his shoulders. Hannibal reached for his face again, this time with both hands.
"You," he said, "are more than a survivor. You are a fighter. I am drawn to you like a moth to a flame, Will."
"I don't know if I want to be seen as a flame. Flames are dangerous. Destructive."
"Then like the caterpillar is drawn to the call of its cocoon. It's only in my nature to allow you to envelop me. And you shall transform me into a stronger version of myself." Hannibal tilted his head forward, and the tops of their antlers brushed together. Will stiffened. "The moth that can spread its wings and fly."
"I want to fly with you," Will whispered. Hannibal didn't respond; instead, he tangled their antlers together even more, their soft and sensitive sets of velvet brushing against each other. Excited tingles shot through Will's body, a warm sensation that only intensified the comfort he already felt. Snuggling up by the fire, a warm meal in his stomach, a companion to share secrets with and be accepted by.
He smiled softly, letting their antlers entangle in a form of intimacy much more personal than a kiss. It was the ultimate show of trust, and Hannibal initiated it after Will confessed the thing he hated most about himself. The thing he was convinced made him dangerous and unknowable. It was the greatest gift he'd ever received.
"Thank you," he said. "For understanding. For everything."
"There will be much more, so long as you stay with me." Their antlers softly clicked together.
"Where else would I ever want to go?"
At some point they snuggled up together in slumber, their half-eaten meal forgotten.