The Bowtongue Herd doesn’t usually leave this early. The grass is still decent, the nights only just starting to bite—but the woods won’t let them stay.

Hunters have moved in sooner than anyone expected. The sounds come at odd hours, sharp and sudden, and the air around the usual grazing spots feels tense and unsafe. Places the herd has rested for generations no longer feel like places you lie down. After a few close calls, the decision is made: they leave now, even if the land ahead isn’t ready for them yet.

Moving early means thinner grazing and longer days on sore legs. The young struggle, the old fall quiet, and no one quite agrees on how fast is fast enough. Some want to push hard and put distance between themselves and danger. Others worry about burning out before winter even starts.

The paths ahead are familiar, but they feel different when you’re not supposed to be on them yet. Storms come sooner, food is scarce, and every mistake costs more than it should. Still, staying behind isn’t an option. This migration isn’t about tradition or timing anymore. It’s about getting the Bowtongue Herd somewhere safe before fear—and exhaustion—break them apart.

• Remain with the herd at all times. Do not stray or travel alone. If you must move away for any reason, ensure others accompany you.

• Give birth near the herd. Staying close allows the herd to guard and protect both you and your fawn.

• Treat all unfamiliar bucks with caution. If any approach or linger near the herd, immediately alert one of the Sovereigns or a Lieutenant.

• All fawns and yearlings are under the herd’s protection. Their safety takes priority above all else.

The Bowtongue Herd’s usual grazing grounds are still surprisingly lush for the season, with grass thick enough to eat and low-lying valleys shrouded in early morning mist. Nights are growing cold, the first sharp edges of frost beginning to cling to the shaded hollows, while the forest edges are dense with tangled underbrush, fallen logs, and hidden thickets that offer both cover and danger. Streams and small ponds provide water, though patches of ice are forming where the mornings bite hardest. The air carries strange and sudden sounds—hunters and their dogs moving unseen through the trees—making the herd restless and alert.

Ahead, the paths are less familiar. Grass is thinner, mixed with brambles and shrubs that slow the herd’s progress, and the trees grow taller and more crowded, offering more cover but demanding careful navigation. Weather is unpredictable: storms may arrive earlier than expected, drenching the herd in cold rain, while gusting winds cut across open plains and valleys. Rivers and uneven terrain will challenge the herd’s endurance, and food will be scarcer, forcing fawns and yearlings to rely on careful guidance from their mothers and the older does. Each step along these early migration paths carries greater risk, yet lingering in the familiar lands behind is no longer an option.

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Bowtongue Herd - Herd Info

The Bowtongue Herd is composed primarily of adult does, forming the backbone of the group. Only a few adult bucks remain, as most males leave to establish or join other herds once they mature. Yearlings follow the herd closely, learning the routes and survival skills under the watchful eyes of adults, while fawns are fully dependent on their mothers and protected by the herd at all times.

The herd members are all red deer (Cervus elaphus), with deep reddish-brown coats in summer that darken and thicken as the cold season approaches. Fawns are marked with spots that help camouflage them in the forest undergrowth, and the few bucks that remain may bear small or developing antlers.

Sovereigns

(Lead Buck & Lead Doe – ruling pair)

• Lead migrations and decide when the herd moves or settles

• Make final calls on how the herd responds to threats (predators, hunters, rival herds)

• Enforce herd laws and resolve disputes

• Represent the herd’s strength, unity, and survival

(Trusted Seconds – can be a doe or rare buck)

• Relay orders from the Sovereigns to the herd

• Keep watch over groups during travel or grazing

• Step in to lead subgroups if the Sovereigns are unavailable

• Alert the Sovereigns to dangers, injuries, or disputes

Sentinels

(Guarding group – mostly does, occasional buck)

• Patrol herd edges and act as lookouts

• Raise alarms for predators, hunters, or rival deer

• Protect fawns and yearlings at all times

Does

(Adult females – the core of the herd)

• Care for and teach fawns

• Maintain herd cohesion and calm

• Pass knowledge of grazing spots, water, and migration routes

• Support one another during birthing and recovery

Bucks

(Adult males – few remain in the herd)

• Only a small number stay; most leave to find their own herds once mature

• Provide protection if needed, help during threats

• Compete for status or recognition occasionally, but only under herd rules

• Respect the Sovereigns’ authority

Yearlings

(Adolescent deer – both sexes)

• Learning herd rules and survival skills

• Travel under supervision of adults

• Not yet responsible for defense or leadership

Fawns

(Young – fully dependent)

• Stay close to mothers or caretakers

• Fully protected by the herd

• Learn through observation, not action

• Their safety is top priority

Rhett is a massive buck, standing around four feet tall at the shoulder and tipping the scales at close to 500 pounds. He’s built like a wall of muscle, broad across the chest and thick through the shoulders, but there’s still a surprising grace to the way he moves. His coat is a deep brown with streaks of gold along his sides, catching the sunlight when he shifts through the tall grasses. Every step feels deliberate, measured—like he’s always aware of what’s around him.

His legs are strong and solid, made to carry him and the herd across long stretches of land without tiring. His hooves strike the ground with a quiet authority, steady and confident. His antlers are wide and impressive, with sharp tines and a few nicks and scars that tell stories of battles fought—some for dominance, some for survival. They give him a regal, almost kingly look, but there’s a rawness to them too, a reminder that he’s been tested more than once.

Rhett’s face carries the weight of all he’s been through. Dark fur rings his eyes and muzzle, making his gaze feel sharp and serious. His eyes themselves are intelligent and watchful, but you can see the frustration simmering beneath the surface—the anger at hunters, the worry for his herd. There’s a stubborn set to his jaw, a look that says he won’t let anything take what’s his.

Even when he’s standing still, there’s an energy to him—a quiet power that pulls the herd together. The way he tilts his head to listen, the subtle flick of his ears, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it all tells you he’s a buck who knows his place, and he takes it seriously. He isn’t flashy or showy, but when Rhett walks across the plains, you notice him. He feels like the center of the world around him, a mix of strength, patience, and a little bit of simmering fury that makes it clear: this is a buck who protects what he loves, no matter the cost.

Rhett lives with the feeling that if something goes wrong, it’s his fault. He doesn’t really remember the last time his mind was quiet—there’s always something to watch, something to plan for, something that could go wrong if he looks away for even a moment. The herd comes first, always. Their safety isn’t just his responsibility, it’s who he is, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he ever stopped carrying that weight.

His temper has gotten shorter over time, worn down by fear and frustration more than anger. When he snaps, it’s usually because he feels cornered or powerless, especially when it comes to hunters. They’re a problem he can’t fight the way he fights predators, and that eats at him. The resentment sits deep in his chest, quiet but constant, and it colors the way he looks at the world—more cautious, more guarded, less forgiving than he used to be.

Rhett leads in a steady, grounded way. He doesn’t posture or throw his weight around unless he has to. Most of the time, his presence alone is enough. Others watch him, take cues from the way he holds himself, the way he pauses to listen before moving on. He makes decisions quickly and sticks to them, even when doubt creeps in later. He believes hesitation is more dangerous than being wrong.

Underneath all of that hardness, he’s more observant than he lets on. He notices when someone’s limping, when a young one falls behind, when tension spreads through the herd like a bad scent on the wind. He rarely offers comfort in soft ways, but he shows it by adjusting his pace, placing himself where he can shield others, staying alert long after exhaustion sets in.

At his core, Rhett is stubborn, loyal, and tired—but he keeps going anyway. He doesn’t see himself as heroic or noble. He just knows that if he doesn’t stand firm, no one else can. And so he does, day after day, carrying his anger, his fear, and his devotion all at once, refusing to let any of it slow him down.

Crush/Interest -

The Lead Doe, most likely. However, hes open for discussion >.>

Mate -

Read above.

Fawns -

He's fathered every fawn this year in the herd. Or so hes aware.

Kin -

Open for siblings!

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Other:

Read the rules <33