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Description
Featuring; Vahlo . Mentions of Stigan .
Summer, Year 766 of the New Age;
Glenwood, Glenmore.

The weight of antlers was unfamiliar on his dainty head, but he knew them well. Their purpose. Their abilities. The damage they could cause.

Still, the velvety knobs seemed harmless at best and, in a way, made him feel less vulnerable. In truth, the pain of his childhood had become as faded as his non-existent scars. He felt more secure. More grounded. And viewed the world around him in an impossibly positive light. Stigan had let him confide in him about his fears. His fears of rut. Fears he felt sheepish about, discussing with his adoptive parents, even though he shouldn't have. How it changed stags when does were involved. His surprising and unhurried disinterest in 'claiming' his first doe. Something that made the old roan laugh but assure the young stagling that he'd have all the control he needed if he sought it deep within himself and just stayed strong.

Vahlo knew a thing or two about keeping strong. He could do that.

Once those initial fears were swallowed, the crown slowly but surely taking form between his ears simply became another curiosity. He'd gaze at them quietly while bathing or drinking. And rather quickly, their presence would become second nature. He'd grow accustomed to the occasional scuff of his ears against one of the velvet points. Adapt to the needed change in balance. Even find use in them for things such as itching or lifting things that needed a little wedging power. Of course, with this, he also learned of their sensitivity and their ability to hurt if he wasn't careful and, in that way, he learned to gauge how much strength to use with them. All of the things that, although didn't seem important now to his young soul, would be crucial as he aged and grew stronger. As he matured.

It was hard to believe it. But as he grew taller, leggier. Lost what little baby weight he had and grew lithe and strong. It was true - he was growing up. Even if it wasn't aware of the changes immediately taking place, they were happening around every corner. He was losing the soft, childish shape to his face and it was being replaced by a relatively androgynous beauty. His eyes had lost much of their painful shadows and had lightened with compassion and warmth. And, although he usually maintained a frown out of sheer habit, it was getting far less rare to see him smile. Whether it was to himself or to a passerby. He seemed genuinely happy.

If he wasn't wielding magic, thanks to Stigan's constant love for water during the hotter months, Vahlo had developed an affinity for it as well. Wading, swimming, bathing. It didn't matter. He watched his reflection shift and change. Watched a world, reversed, stare back at him with muted awe. After all. He was still quite young and, growing up or no, there was always wonders to be had.

+2 strength to Vahlo; 491 words + art.

-----

Vahlo's character/design belongs to me.
Artwork is © to me as well - thank you.

Description
Featuring; Vahlo . Mentions of Stigan .
Summer, Year 766 of the New Age;
Glenwood, Glenmore.

The weight of antlers was unfamiliar on his dainty head, but he knew them well. Their purpose. Their abilities. The damage they could cause.

Still, the velvety knobs seemed harmless at best and, in a way, made him feel less vulnerable. In truth, the pain of his childhood had become as faded as his non-existent scars. He felt more secure. More grounded. And viewed the world around him in an impossibly positive light. Stigan had let him confide in him about his fears. His fears of rut. Fears he felt sheepish about, discussing with his adoptive parents, even though he shouldn't have. How it changed stags when does were involved. His surprising and unhurried disinterest in 'claiming' his first doe. Something that made the old roan laugh but assure the young stagling that he'd have all the control he needed if he sought it deep within himself and just stayed strong.

Vahlo knew a thing or two about keeping strong. He could do that.

Once those initial fears were swallowed, the crown slowly but surely taking form between his ears simply became another curiosity. He'd gaze at them quietly while bathing or drinking. And rather quickly, their presence would become second nature. He'd grow accustomed to the occasional scuff of his ears against one of the velvet points. Adapt to the needed change in balance. Even find use in them for things such as itching or lifting things that needed a little wedging power. Of course, with this, he also learned of their sensitivity and their ability to hurt if he wasn't careful and, in that way, he learned to gauge how much strength to use with them. All of the things that, although didn't seem important now to his young soul, would be crucial as he aged and grew stronger. As he matured.

It was hard to believe it. But as he grew taller, leggier. Lost what little baby weight he had and grew lithe and strong. It was true - he was growing up. Even if it wasn't aware of the changes immediately taking place, they were happening around every corner. He was losing the soft, childish shape to his face and it was being replaced by a relatively androgynous beauty. His eyes had lost much of their painful shadows and had lightened with compassion and warmth. And, although he usually maintained a frown out of sheer habit, it was getting far less rare to see him smile. Whether it was to himself or to a passerby. He seemed genuinely happy.

If he wasn't wielding magic, thanks to Stigan's constant love for water during the hotter months, Vahlo had developed an affinity for it as well. Wading, swimming, bathing. It didn't matter. He watched his reflection shift and change. Watched a world, reversed, stare back at him with muted awe. After all. He was still quite young and, growing up or no, there was always wonders to be had.

+2 strength to Vahlo; 491 words + art.

-----

Vahlo's character/design belongs to me.
Artwork is © to me as well - thank you.