Common warbles and cries sounding throughout the forest was as familiar to his ears as his missing heartbeat was. Even if he was a fish out of water among a society he was now expected to protect and guide,
at least he still had his own little sanctuary within the forest. Not the same forest where he hid from manhunts time and time again, but it would have to do. Busying his fidgets by peeling shred of bark from a birch's roots as his mind raced through all the dreaded responsibilities and looming worries that accompanied his rank of power, the poltergeist was more than grateful to be spending the late morning alone, lazily watching the wind rustle the tall grass surrounding their town. His ears stopped swiveling around for noises signaling danger, his eyelids drooping shut after centuries of constant alert. Even the birds fell into a slumber of sorts to avoid a disease beginning to cautiously enter the overgrown field; all was quiet.

    Too quiet. As if a bomb had detonated and the world cowered in silence as a result. His scarred brow furrowed in instinctive concern, and eventually a lone luminous eye peeked open, afraid of what might be waiting for him. A doe, broad and fragile, stared back at him from across the rippling sea of grass, beady visage breaking the stunned eye contact with an ignorant blink and decided the grimy boy wasn't a threat. Beck's feigned breathing halted all together, as if his rattling sighs would frighten the dainty creature away. Time stood still as the doe dipped her head down to nudge at something hidden in the long grass, the poltergeist gingerly straightening out his slouch and tilting his chin towards the sky in hopes of catching a glimpse.

    His trance was broken as a clanmate abruptly called out his name, startling the doe enough for her to bound back into the dense woodland, a single fawn wobbling after her in haste. Distracted by the approaching rogue, Beck scowled in their direction, rising from his seat and pointedly avoiding whoever was intent on scaring the deer away. Stalking through the grass, he couldn't help but acknowledge that the birds refused to continue their songs, and for good reason as well. Right where the doe had just fled was a trampled patch of foliage, in the middle a runty fawn -- with two faces. Struggling to breathe through dual nostrils, it was a delicate and ugly amalgamation, abandoned by its mother when it was realized that their odds of survival were few. Beck observed the dying creature with a curious glint in his eyes, youthful features distorted by old memories creeping back into his thoughts. The air carried scents of disease and irreparable damage to the land, granting the forest a new atmosphere of uncertainty and lurking monsters. The malformed fawn didn't deserve to be born with two faces fighting for space on their skull, and wordlessly, the scrawny feline hesitantly approached to settle against the heaving fawn's dappled side. Even if it was destined to die, it wouldn't die alone, Beck would be sure of that.