Demetrio

The mule buck wandered into the area of Pike's Lake, keeping alert for any dangers. His nares quivered wildly to take in the scents. So many surrounded him! His raised his dial higher, pointing his shiney black nose skyward. The wind brushed past him, carrying his scent away. He was headed for the lake, tail flopping from one side to the other.

Furlock

The white-tail buck had been sent out on patrol by his herd lead, for he was one of the strongest bucks in his herd, with a twelve-point rack. Furlock, aptly named for a tuft of slightly longer fur on his head, made his round along the lake shore, he scented the mulie. Moving quicker but with more stealth, the buck came across Demetrio. For a moment he gazed at the other deer, with the larger ears than his own, and different antlers. "Hail, there!" Furlock cried after a moment, dipping his antlers slightly in greeting. Though his antlers were shiny and proud right now, they would be falling off soon, just like the rest of his herd's stags. Soon they'd all by bald like the hinds, but only until spring came back.

Demetrio

De's dial flung around swiftly, his antlers making a smooth swooshing noise as they sliced the air. A snort was emitted as he realized it was just another deer. He drew in a deep breath and then released it. The coldness made his warm breath come out in the form of steam. He watched the other stag, certainly a different species than him, but still another of his kind. He sent a friendly smile. "'Lo," he called out in reply, having completely stopped long before. Now his dial was arched in an unusual way, one that allowed him to still turn his neck and twist it. "I'm Demetrio." he stated with a little grin now, his swurved antlers being held in a proud but simple style.

Furlock

"Good to meet you, Demetrio." The buck called back, and moved closer now that he had gotten a greeting from the other. "I am Furlock, of the Oak Prairie. Under the lead of Nhosh." He declared. "He is always looking for new members, if you're interested. We're a mixed herd, you see..." Furlock said his words carefully, for he knew that many deer didn't like that fact that the herd was mixed. "If not, he seeks an alliance from all the Arlas." Furlock used the formal name for 'deer'. Well, is wasn't a formal name that any native deer used here, as for as Furlock knew, but they had used that term where Nhosh use to live. And Nhosh had subsequently taught the term to his new herd members and suggested that they used it.

Demetrio

Demetrio's eyes followed the other carefully. A herd? Under the lead of who? Mixed? He lightly snorted at the vast array of different words, trying to quickly peice them together before he said the next. "I'm interested... Though I've been a loner since I was a young fawn... Tell me more about this place, if you will." he said, auds pricked. He stood in the position of an alarmed deer, not yet realizing it.

Furlock

He was quite pleased with Demetrio's interest, and quickly went on to explain, "There are Red, White-Tail, Fallow, and White-lipped deer at the herd. There are no Mule deer as of yet, except for a fellow named Buck." Then Furlock gave somewhat of a smirk, "There are quite a bit of does too, if I might add." Furlock noticed the stance in which the mulie stood, and cast a suspiscious look around. Ah, the wary nature of his kind.