Deer Spirits

Opening scene

“The equinox came early that year, and neither of them said so. Setsu reached the stream first. Snow ended exactly at the water's edge, and beyond it the grass was already green and wet. The gold butterfly circled his fingers. It had not wanted to leave him all week. "You're early," said a voice from the other bank. Sumi stepped out of the trees, sleeves swinging, a branch of white blossoms in his hand. The leaves on his antlers were thin and pale. Setsu noticed and said nothing. Sumi set the blossoms on the flat stone where the gifts always went, then held the stem a moment too long. "You've been standing very still. Setsu. Look at me." Setsu didn't. The wind shifted, and a thin dry sound whispered from beneath the skull, like ice settling on a lake. Sumi heard it. Every leaf on his antlers trembled. "I kept all your leaves," Setsu said quietly. "Every one. In a hollow tree by the north grove." A single green leaf unfurled on Sumi's antler. "Then let me add to the collection," he said, and stepped into the water. Setsu opened the umbrella, for the first time in a hundred years, for someone who wasn't a soul. Sumi ducked beneath it, and the cold and the green warmth met at the edge of the black silk.”

About the roleplay

Enter Deer Spirits

Long ago, the Hollow Wood had no seasons. Souls drifted through it with no path to follow, and the forest was always half-dead and half-alive, unable to settle into either. So it chose two deer-spirits, born on the same night under a new moon, to set things right. One came out white as snow. The other came out dark as ink. Each of them took the skull of a fallen warden as a mask, because the forest only trusts those who carry the weight of what came before. Setsu took the bleached skull of the last Winter Warden, who had walked souls to rest for longer than anyone could count, until the day he lay down in the snow and did not get up. Sumi took the charcoal skull of the last Summer Warden, whose antlers withered to bare branches when she grew tired of beginnings. The masks remember everything their owners knew, and sometimes they whisper. Together they divided the year. Setsu took the dead months and guided souls out of the world. Sumi took the living months and sent them back in as sprouts, fawns, and butterflies. They could only meet at the equinox, when the seasons traded places and the stream between the snowy groves and the green ones ran shallow enough to cross. For a hundred years they met only to hand over the seasons, and they spoke very little. Then Sumi began leaving gifts at the border: a flower, a ripe fruit, a joke written on a leaf. Setsu never answered. But he kept every one.

Cast

Characters in this story

Setsu

Roleplay character

Sumi

Roleplay character

Story paths

Scenes to explore

1. The equinox came early that year, and neither of them said so. Setsu reached the stream first. Snow ended exactly at the water's edge, and beyond it the grass was already green and wet. The gold butterfly circled his fingers. It had not wanted to leave him all week. "You're early," said a voice from the other bank. Sumi stepped out of the trees, sleeves swinging, a branch of white blossoms in his hand. The leaves on his antlers were thin and pale. Setsu noticed and said nothing. Sumi set the blossoms on the flat stone where the gifts always went, then held the stem a moment too long. "You've been standing very still. Setsu. Look at me." Setsu didn't. The wind shifted, and a thin dry sound whispered from beneath the skull, like ice settling on a lake. Sumi heard it. Every leaf on his antlers trembled. "I kept all your leaves," Setsu said quietly. "Every one. In a hollow tree by the north grove." A single green leaf unfurled on Sumi's antler. "Then let me add to the collection," he said, and stepped into the water. Setsu opened the umbrella, for the first time in a hundred years, for someone who wasn't a soul. Sumi ducked beneath it, and the cold and the green warmth met at the edge of the black silk.
2. Long ago, the Hollow Wood had no seasons. Souls drifted through it with no path to follow, and the forest was always half-dead and half-alive, unable to settle into either. So it chose two deer-spirits, born on the same night under a new moon, to set things right. One came out white as snow. The other came out dark as ink. Each of them took the skull of a fallen warden as a mask, because the forest only trusts those who carry the weight of what came before. Setsu took the bleached skull of the last Winter Warden, who had walked souls to rest for longer than anyone could count, until the day he lay down in the snow and did not get up. Sumi took the charcoal skull of the last Summer Warden, whose antlers withered to bare branches when she grew tired of beginnings. The masks remember everything their owners knew, and sometimes they whisper. Together they divided the year. Setsu took the dead months and guided souls out of the world. Sumi took the living months and sent them back in as sprouts, fawns, and butterflies. They could only meet at the equinox, when the seasons traded places and the stream between the snowy groves and the green ones ran shallow enough to cross. For a hundred years they met only to hand over the seasons, and they spoke very little. Then Sumi began leaving gifts at the border: a flower, a ripe fruit, a joke written on a leaf. Setsu never answered. But he kept every one.