eachdraidh | third arrow → VIDEO → both courts (forward dated a bit)

[When the screen flicks on, it focuses on Merida kneeling over a deer. A deer as white and pure as the snow, were it not for the blood under its neck tainting its silvery fur. Gingerly, she tugs the arrow from the muscle, reaching to close its eyes with her other hand, bow itself resting against a nearby tree. Merida murmurs something in Gaelic, retracting her hand from its face.]

Forgive me, Wilder One. It's been an honor.

[She had hardly been expecting to actually shoot the White Hart down, but hunting with Saber had gotten results and proper respects must be given in any case. Placing the arrow back into the quiver at her hip after washing off the blood in clean snow, she stands, fur trimmed dress folding out around her ankles, boots deep in the snow. Angus whickers and nuzzles her hair, causing her to turn and reach to run her fingers across his nose comfortingly. Her imp scurries about, muttering to itself as it steps around the corpse gingerly, as though it fears waking it.

Merida pushes hair from her eyes, reaching into a small pouch wrapped around her quiver belt for a hairband and tying it into a high ponytail. Stooping again, she reached for the White Hart's forequarters, taking hold of his hoofs and hefting him over her shoulder with a grunt, standing and, with a bit of maneuvering, gets him onto Angus' back. That done, she dusts her hands off, picking up her bow and her locket hanging from it, noticing it on.]

Well I suppose now would be time tae announce that I've shot th' White Hart, wouldn't it?

Now how am I gonna cart all this meat back?

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[ W h a t . . . ]

Forgive me, you killed the White Hart?

[ Then... what did he... ]

Aye, I did.

[She gestures to the white flank up on Angus' back.]

Never seen a deer as silvery white as this, an' his antlers suggest as such.

Forgive me -- but when, exactly?

[ Can it truly be reborn so quickly? Is such a thing possible? Well -- it must be, he supposes, and yet... yet still. He thought it would be reborn later, so they said? Is it a dreadful mistake, to have killed it twice? ]

A few hours past.

[She cranes her neck to look at the sun, or what she can see through the snow clouds anyway, shielding her eyes with the hand not resting against Angus. It could've been longer, but she didn't know. Merida turns her attention back to her locket screen, raising an eyebrow.]

Why d'ye ask?

[ ... Well... ]

... It is only that I felled such a creature myself. Pure silvery white. I thought there would only be one, but now I find myself filled with doubt.

[She blinks a little in surprise, then taps her chin.]

I was told by some men I bartered information from that th' White Hart is reborn twice after th' Hunt. Once tae let another kill it an' again when th' Hunt is finished.

[Merida purses her lips together. It was entirely possible but...]

How long ago for you?

Ah --

[ He blinks uncertainly, squints up at the sun himself. How long was it, truly? ]

Forgive me, I cannot say exactly. I did not note the hour -- certainly more than an hour past I should think.

[ This... is terribly confusing. ]

Strange...

[She looks up at the sun herself, frowning.]

It's entirely possible I misjudged th' hour. I wasn't concentratin' on th' time when I shot him.

How can one truly know the victor of the hunt, if the Hart allows itself to be slain twice?

[ This is... still odd. He frowns, tilts his head. ]

Unless -- forgive me, would it be forward of me to ask which court you fight for?

[She shakes her head, indicating it wasn't.]

I was chosen for Unseelie, though I don't fight for Morla. I fight for myself an' my friends, whether they be of either court.

And I for the Seelie.

[ He sighs a little, flickers a rueful smile. ]

Perhaps that is it. So as not to be accused of playing favourites, a victor is allowed from both courts.

[She actually chuckles a bit.]

Somehow I'm not surprised. A god would play fair unless he was a trickster after all.

True, it should be considered fairer this way. No court dominates the other, the celebration is for both after all. Either way, I suppose congratulations are in order.

[ He dips his head a fraction, flickers a smile. ]

You must be quite the huntress.

Aye, tae ye as well, my good lad.

[Her own smile comes to her easier, though she does chuckle a little.]

Ahhhh, I must admit my shot caused me tae be thrown from my horse as th' Hart went down.

[ My good lad? Lancelot is not sure the last time he was called a lad, if ever. There's something faintly odd about it, especially since he suspects she may be younger than he. ]

That risk is why I tried to proceed on foot as much as I could, although I do not deny I had plenty of misadventures myself. I did wake up a golem at one point.

[ He tried to apologise to it but you know. Golem. ]

third arrow → VIDEO → both courts (forward dated a bit)

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