Which Witch || Aleksander Morozova

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓮

The Stag

—

Sitting up from her bedroll, Katerina strains her eyes and ears for any sign of movement.

Aleksander still sleeps heavily beside her. The journey into Fjerda has been tiring for him in particular, and she can't help but wonder if it's somehow because of his connection to the Stag.

Just as she's considering settling back down under the covers next to him, she hears it again. A high pitch tone, almost a melody of sorts. Chiming away in the distance.

Earlier, Aleksander assured her that the sound was only the wind. Ivan scoured the vicinity, and found no human heartbeats in the area. Mal didn't see any tracks of Fjerdan hunters or even Drüskelle.

But Katerina knows there's something out there.

As she steps out of the tent, she's hoping that at this point in the story she's developed some sort of plot armour that will protect her from any Drüskelle. If not... this is probably not one of her best ideas. She pulls her cloak tighter around her body as she looks over the small camp.

She doesn't appear to have woken anyone else, at least. Not even Aleksander's ever-vigilant heartrenders.

The chime sounds again, closer this time, and she moves towards it. Snow crunches lightly under her feet, even as she tries to walk quietly. Her breath plumes out in a small cloud in front of her and she laces her hands together as she reaches a clearing. The night is quiet, illuminated by the silver moon. Is it full tonight? She hears the chime, accompanied by a snuffling noise. Taking her eyes away from the star-speckled sky, her gaze flickers over the clearing. Her entire body freezes.

The Stag. Swallowing hard, she wills herself to continue breathing as she takes a tentative step forward. She tries not to think about its sharp antlers that could run her through. Or about how easily he could trample her; Mal was right, he's at least twice the size of any other deer. Though she's encouraged by his apparent lack of agitation.

Carefully, she brushes her knuckles over the front of his muzzle. The Stag doesn't move. Flattening her palm against the coarse hair, she strokes down the length of his face. At that, he takes a step closer, and though her heart leaps into her throat at the movement, Katerina holds her ground.

His eyes move to a spot in the clearing to her left, and her own gaze follows. There's a female and another much younger male hovering at the edge of the clearing. Looking between the three of them, there seems to be some sort of conversation, which feels like a goodbye.

"You know why we're here." She whispers.

He tilts his head down, as if nodding. There's nothing she could say to that. To know he'd been created only to be killed for power... was there a greater curse?

"I'm sorry." Her voice is soft, and he nods again but there's understanding in his dark eyes, as if he knows the importance of his sacrifice.

The two other deer disappear into the cold shadows with barely any sound, their hooves treading lightly over the snow as they watch them leave.

"Katerina." It's barely a whisper, but she turns quickly at the sound of her name. Aleksander stands at the edge of the clearing, his wide eyed stare bouncing between her and the Stag at her side. "You found the Stag." He says in a near whisper.

The Stag tilts his head aside as he looks at Aleksander, and shifts his front legs as if he wants to approach him.

"You must look like your grandfather." Katerina says softly, a ghost of a smile crossing her lips. Aleksander frowns, and she nods towards the Stag. "I think he recognises you."