Tyelkormo's Great Escape by Aprilertuile

Night, day, and night

Eating travel bread might become tedious long before the end of the season, Tyelkormo reflected as he took a bite of the bread, sitting on the blanket he used as a bed when he travelled around.

But… That was exactly why he also picked up honey and dried fruits. Neither would last him the full season probably, but at the very least, it’d provide some diversity for a little while.

He built a fire for the evening, using fallen wood, fallen, dead, dry branches on the forest floor. He didn’t usually like using pine for that, but he could only work with what he had. Good thing that elves weren’t likely to die of the cold though, because he doubted he’d find perfectly dried wood all season, and not dried pine wood was absolutely terrible to use for fire.

The night was calm, punctuated by the sound of the forest outside. Predators hunting, owls mainly. Nocturnal prey animals living their lives. Wind. Rain.

Tyelkormo slept as usual with what many in the Hunt called a strange awareness of his surroundings.

Personally, he never found his awareness in sleep strange. He had brothers . Prank wars started at the drop of a hat in the mad house he called home, his father’s work even sometimes got unforeseen results like… oh, an explosion, fire erupting… His siblings' own crafts and attempts at crafts having various results meant that he had learnt early on to rest without losing his awareness of his surroundings.

In the morning, he watched with joy the faint silver rays of Telperion give way to the golden, stronger rays of Laurelin. The way the light shined outside, giving the rain and ice on the floor and plants a faint glowing appearance was mesmerizing.

It was so pretty to watch.

His own breath could be seen in the air, that was how cold it was outside.

Nevertheless he got up, and out of his blanket, and stretched before he went out of his little cave, gathering wood. He also wanted to check around the cave, just in case he missed something the previous day.

He gathered as much wood as he could during most of the morning, coming and going around the cave.

He wondered vaguely how his siblings did in Tirion, but he knew that they, at least, enjoyed the dancing and mingling, if they absolutely hated their mother’s attempt to push them toward girls, so he wasn’t too worried: They’d still enjoy themselves well enough this season.

And if he wasn’t mistaken, Tyelkormo had now missed the opening ball at the palace, and a solid week of that absolute nightmare of a season.

That knowledge alone made him irrationally cheerful.

The day was spent in a flurry of activity to prepare the cave and ensure he’d be comfortable. He didn’t hunt that day. Perhaps later he would, but for now he was fine without and had too much to do to add hunting to the list.

He felt pleasantly free for now.

Perhaps he should do that more often.

He sat on his makeshift bed, considering the merits of opening already one of the jars of honey or the dried fruits, when he heard a loud panicked bleat like a ‘naaaaa naaaaa naaaaaa’. A panicked, loud voice, clearly that of a fawn.

Before he could think about it, Tyelkormo jumped to his feet and ran toward the sound. Of course the echoes made it travel louder in the mountain, but still, he was a Hunter of Oromë. Finding the place of origin of an animal cry was not that hard.

And there he found a fawn, alone. No sign of another deer in the area.

“Fuck” he breathed, noticing the state of the fawn.

The creature looked exhausted, and far too thin. That was NOT a fawn in good health. Certainly it had lost its family for more than a few hours then.

“Alright. Alright…”

The fawn, seeing him, approached, with a very small, pitiful bleat of ‘help’. Tyelkormo sighed and looked up at the sky, as if to ask why him, but he shook his head and touched the fawn, assessing it from up close:

“Are you even weaned? Because you look… Very small…”

Tyelkormo grimaced. If the fawn wasn’t weaned, there was no way he could save it… The best thing he could do if he was too small to eat proper food, would be to put it out of its misery… His mouth took a downward turn at that knowledge.

He pulled what was left of the travel bread he had started to eat that day, and offered it to the fawn. It was not proper food for it, but right now here and there, he was a bit out of his element.

But the fawn bit into it (and almost into Tyelkormo’s fingers at the same time)… And ate. It was slow, but it ate solid food.

“Alright… Alright. I just have to… Bring you somewhere warmer and… help you to find proper deer food. Great. At least we’re not lacking in pine trees around here, right? not the favourite food for you lot, but you can eat it. You’re too small to reach most of it, I suppose, but I guess I’ll help until we can find you a herd again…”

The fawn trotted happily next to him, and Tyelkormo led the animal back to his cave, where it… Just laid down on Tyelkormo’s blanket.

Tyelkormo snorted in amusement at that.

“Of course you would steal my bed.”

But it was warmer here, and the fawn felt safe, and had food in its belly… So it went right to sleep. Tyelkormo sighed but sat near it. He lit a fire. Hopefully between the fact the cave was keeping them safe from the elements and the fire, the fawn would be warm enough during the night.

Tyelkormo rested, sitting on the blanket, the fawn half covered by his cloak, both the fawn and the elf enjoying the warmth of the fire.