Page 16 of Stags

“No,” said Bruin. “At midnight, there will be an announcement that the field is open, and people will start milling out of the other areas—like the bars and the courtyard, and the lobby, and they’ll head into the field. Not all at once, though. Some will go one by one, others will go in groups. And then, once you’re out there…” He thought about it. “There tends to be running.”

“Really?”

“Chasing,” said Bruin. “Even at midnight, seeing one of those little white tails of a doe in the darkness… it’s noticeable. You feel like something lights up the back of your brain. You just go.”

“And bucks really fight over them?”

“The sparring?” Bruin waved a hand. “Oh, that part is fun.”

Stockton snorted, a dismissive snort.

“No, it is. Don’t knock it until you try.”

Stockton shook his head. “Well, fine, okay, but then you catch someone, and you… what? You have to talk to her, right?”

“Typically,” said Bruin, amused.

“What do you say?”

“It doesn’t matter what you say,” said Bruin. “You both understand what’s about to happen. If she’s not interested, she makes that plain, so don’t worry about that. Otherwise, it’s nonsense chitchat and it always ends in the same place, which you are both quite aware is going to be the case, and it’s… it’s fun, Stockton. Stop worrying. It’ll come to you. You’ll see.”

“It comes toyou,” said Stockton. “To people like you. ButIam very awkward and very young and very stupid—”

“You’ll be fine,” said Bruin, putting a hand on his shoulder. “By the way, what are you thinking for dinner? I hear most of the restaurants have vegetarian specials this week, so we should be able to eat most anywhere.” It was a predatorkin’s world, in the end.

Of course, no predatorkin ate preykin, not anymore. A thousand years ago, most civilized predatorkin had outlawed such things, calling it barbaric, but it was permitted in special circumstances, if the predatorkin “lost control” until only about three hundred years ago, when it officially became classified asalwaysmurder. All meat was from animals, then, never people, not anymore.

Deerkin didn’t eat meat, but sometimes they ate cheese and milk products.

No one could digest cow’s milk, of course, not even the predatorkin, and especially not the birds, but everyone loved the taste of it.

Even so, Bruin felt the need to say, “I don’t think we should go for pizza, no cheese before a night out running in the field.”

“I thought you weren’t even going to make the midnight run.”

“Right,” said Bruin. “Even still…”

“No pizza,” said Stockton, looking around as they emerged onto the main street. “Agreed. Maybe Chinese or Indian or something?”

“Indian has yogurt a lot.”

“True, but yogurt’s easier to digest?”

Bruin looked into the window of a restaurant and caught the eye of a girl sitting there. She was young—far too young for him, he thought, likely near Stockton’s age. She was pretty, though, the picture of perfection for a young doe, plump in all the right places, her ears tipped forward expressively as she took a drink of her drink and stared back at him.

He should look away.

She held his gaze, however, and her expression was partly innocence and curiosity and partly something knowing and mature, as if she had every idea in the world how he was reacting to her.

Nonsense,he thought to himself.She doesn’t know.

“What about Thai?” said Stockton, pointing across the street.

“Thai sounds acceptable,” said Bruin. He was still staring at the doe.

She winked at him.

His lips parted. Well, he’d look for her later. He wouldn’tdoanything. She was too young. But… but… well, she wasn’t allowed in to this sort of thing if she wasn’t legally an adult, so…

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