Slaughter at Stringybark Creek - Chapter Three-Slaughter At Stringybark CreekSlaughter at Stringybark Creek - Chapter Three- by Cederwyn-Whitefurr
(c) Cederwyn Whitefurr
1st December, 2012
All Rights Reserved.
Weeks passed, as Lachlan and Clanton's uneasy truce held, Lachlan teaching the recuperating Kangaroo how to gut and skin the rabbits and a multitude of other things. Clanton taught Lachlan how to read and write – of a fashion – and other more 'civilised' things. One evening, as Clanton was tending the fire at the mouth of the cave, he heard the rustle of the branches and his head snapped up in alarm.
"You need to be more attentive - " Lachlan snorted, before dropping the gutted carcass of a young Doe wallaby before the fire.
"You can't be serious - " Clanton gagged, staring at the Wallaby's corpse, his ears flattening and eyes going wide.
"Mate, its all I could trap – its either this...or we starve. I don't like it as much as you do," Lachlan sighed. "That flour and such you got for us, there's very little left. I don't know what sort of food you lived on in the Stock
Name: Cederwyn Whitefurr|
Species: Mule Deer (see below)
Age: 23 (real age, see below)
Body Type: Thin (Effeminate)
Hair/Eye Color: None (see below)/Dark brown, almost black
Hair Style: None (see below)
Style: Dresses in a simple light green robe, that starts at the neck and ends at the wrists and ankles. With a White cord belt tied around the waist.
Personality: Cederwyn is a shy and graceful deer-like creature, who is the progeny of a human woman and a feral male Mule Deer. His mother was cursed, and he is the result of a vengeful nature Goddess who took offense at what his mother had done to one of the Goddesses children. He is shy, easily upset and prone to cry at almost the drop of a hat, being highly emotional and particularly sensitive to those making fun of his 'mixed' heritage.
He is actually older than he acts, his real age being fourty, yet often, the way he speaks and acts, its more innocet and child-like, almost as if he were a little 'touched' upstairs. His voice is soft and delicate, almost as effiminate as his appearance, and he strives not to cause trouble, prefering to let his sweet, gentle nature shine through. He frequently does not think things through in their entirety, often getting himself into trouble or dangerous things - as he's more a follower, not a leader. He does not trust many people - even fewer, know of his dark history - which he keeps buried inside, afraid of it, and not wanting to be reminded. Although in some regards, he acts child-like and such, he can, when the need arises, be more mature and responsible, but prefers his gentle child-like innocence to guide him. He is more than willing to give anyone a cuddle and a lick on the cheek, in a non-sexual manner - as he never learned to kiss another - so tries his best.
Appearance: He stands six feet two inches tall, and weighs about one hundred and seventy five pounds in weight. He stands digigrade on a pair of cloven black hooves He keeps his long ears swept back, hanging limply at the back of his neck, and their black tips glimmer softly in the light. His eyes are almost black, in reality, just a really dark brown. His gaze is often haunted, with a distinctive sad appearance. This is due to his guilt of what he is...
He has no human-like hair, taking after his feral sire in many ways, primarily his fur; which was once a beautiful white, with a dazzling black blaze from forehead to nose, black ear tips, 'gloves' that come almost to his wrists, and black socks on his shins, almost to his ankles. Now, his fur is more silvery-grey in colour, the black of his blaze, gloves and socks a more light charcoal, than black.
Whilst definitely male, Cederwyn was cursed with an effeminate stature, and no antlers.