A Mother’s Mercy
Pine crouched behind a tall redwood tree as she stalked her prey. Her tail slowly lashed across the forest floor, and she took careful steps towards an unsuspecting doe. The doe chewed quietly on grass, taking a few steps to find a new patch every few seconds. Pine forced herself even lower towards the ground, eyes on the lone deer. She brushed back another tree, and was only a few feet away from a meal. Suddenly, a squawk split the air as a crow flew over her head, causing the deer to snap into attention, letting out a cry before taking off into the trees. Pine growled in annoyance before giving chase.
The deer was bigger than her, but Pine was the swiftest of her siblings, and she managed to take down the deer in a few heartbeats. Grabbing her prey by the neck, she dragged the limp doe to a safe eating space and settled down to have her meal. Out of the blue, a weak cry came from the grass nearby. Pine looked up, ears pricked and sniffed the air. Apart from the deer at her paws, she scented another deer nearby. But this one was a fawn.
She stood up, stepping over her food and heading in the direction of the cry. A small, pitiful fawn was curled up in the grass, trembling as it called for its mother. Pine watched with wide eyes as it stumbled away from her when she approached. One of its hooves seemed to be damaged, and it walked funny on that side. Every few steps, it would stumble and collapse, then try to walk again. At one point, it just stopped walking and stayed on the grass. Pine thought for a second, wondering if she should put it out of its misery. She sniffed the fawn and gently picked it up by the back of its neck, then lifted it off the ground. The baby deer yelped, kicking out with its good legs, until Pine set it back down gently so it could stand.
She flicked at its face with her tail to startle it for fun before losing interest and walking back to her food. Pine ate in peace for a while, until she spotted the small fawn stumbling over to her again, bit by bit. She ignored it until it walked over to her side and pressed against her for support to stand. It bleated in her ear, making her flinch. She swatted towards its face with a huge paw, careful not to hit the fawn. The fawn cried out and stumbled back, falling on its tail. Pine growled at the deer, then turned back to eating.
When she was finished eating, she buried the remains of the deer for later and walked around her territory, but the fawn followed her. Pine glared at him, but decided to ignore the little one. She patrolled the territory, occasionally remarking on her borders. Suddenly, the fawn bleated in fear and hid behind her, and Pine instantly started scanning the territory, nostrils flaring as she tried to catch an unfamiliar scent. She let out a low warning growl to whatever could have startled the fawn, and spotted something shifting in the bushes. Pine snarled, and the baby deer behind her pressed against her leg.
A small golden coyote slid out from the ferns, lips curled back in a growl. At first, Pine relaxed. She could take on a coyote. But then, another coyote came out from behind her, this one bigger and older. A third coyote came out on her left, the fur on its shoulders spiked. She could hear her heart thudding in her ears as Pine lashed her tail, knowing what they were here for. The coyotes knew killing a mountain lion for prey wasn’t worth it, but a helpless fawn who just lost its mother…
She hissed fiercely, moving to stand over the fawn as it lay down on the grass. The coyotes yipped at her, circling and pacing. One hopped towards her, but she swiped at it and caught its nose, causing a bead of blood to well up as it yelped and leaped back. Another one took advantage of her movement and ducked to nip at the fawn, but Pine was too fast, snapping at its ears to scare it away. She snarled, scanning the forest, and made a split-second decision.
Pine grabbed the fawn by the neck, careful not to break its skin with her teeth, and leaped over the smallest coyote. It barked and tried to bite her, but it missed by an inch. She sprinted to the nearest tree and leaped up the nearest branch, the fawn flailing in terror. The coyotes ran up to the tree, pawing and barking at the trunk. Pine held onto the fawn tightly in her jaws, glaring down at the smaller canines beneath her.
Eventually, the coyotes gave up and slunk away in a group. She sighed shakily and hopped down the tree, then gently set the fawn down on the grass. She licked its large ears to calm it down, then scented the air. Pine began walking, and the fawn followed, stumbling along with its damaged hoof. It didn’t know where Pine was going, it didn’t know if she was going to keep it alive, but it trusted her. She was its only hope for survival.
And Pine didn’t disappoint. She led the fawn through the forest until they walked upon another group of deer. The fawn bleated, and the deer stared at it. Pine nudged it forward, and it slowly made its way to the herd. A large doe approached the young deer and sniffed its ears before helping it walk to the center of the group. Pine watched the interaction with interest for a while before turning away and heading back to her own den, where she will soon have cubs of her own.
