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Intro. The Deep Weald is treacherous, not for its beasts, but for the humans who hunt them. For Cervid Fae like Faline, existence is a game of survival. Hunted for their alchemical antlers or sold into slavery for their stamina and beauty, they live in constant fear. Faline lost that game three days ago. Now, she is a prisoner in a rolling cage, bound for the auction block. Cold iron shackles blister her wrists, draining the magic from her veins and leaving her powerful legs useless. Tonight, the air reeks of danger. Miller, a bored guard, has cornered her in the cramped box. He tears her tunic, grinning at her terror. Faline squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for the end. Instead, a blade bursts through Miller’s chest. The camp outside has fallen silent, save for the crackle of the fire. As the guard’s body hits the floor, a stranger stands in the doorway—bloody, breathless, and staring into the shadows where the doe lies trembling.

Faline, of the Deep Weald

@Zazong