200th Post! The Story of Fernando pt. 1

Yes, I am Writing a Story about This

“My name is Fernando los Ciervos del Conejo, and it is pleasure to have the company of such beautiful does such as yourselves,” He said in the voice that drifted between silk and smoke. He inhaled through a thin roll of herbs he had meticulously sought out and collected among the prairie grasses. He smoothed the soft fur on his muzzle and twitched his whiskers just so, causing them to gleam in the sun. He had spent months practicing the motion to appear nonchalant. There was a pause as the wind blew cottonwood fluff across the clearing, and a thin wisp tangled briefly in Fernando’s stately antlers.
“And I’m Stump!” His brother declared proudly in a brassy, low voice as he popped his head over Fernando’s shoulder. He absentmindedly chewed a wad of clover, shifting it back and forth between his oversized incisors. Fernando slumped slightly, his proud features sagging to a vague look of defeat.
The rabbits they spoke to continued to chew grass and twitched their ears slightly, oblivious to their would-be suitors. One hopped a few feet away, making only the slightest shuffling noise on the soft grass.
“Maybe we should try other Jackelopes, ya’ know? Least they can speak,” Stump suggested timidly. “Maybe we should go home Fern.”
Fernando battered Stump’s face feebly with his tiny forepaws. “You will never call me that name again! I am Fernando, Fernando los Ciervos del Conejo! And no, we cannot go home, not until I find my true love!”
Stump raised an eyebrow doubtfully as one of the rabbits nibbled at a dandelion. “One of these gonna be yer true love?”
“No you foolish fool! Of course not, they are mere hares where I am a stately Jackelope. But I have the heart of a lover, and with such a heart one is cursed to seek out passion wherever he might find it.” Fernando grasped his chest as he said this, feigning a face both melancholy yet hopeful.
“So, eh, yer a slut?”
“Let’s just say, dear brother, that I am good at laying women,” Fernando said haughtily. He then hopped on top of one of the does, who was more than happy to oblige him, that being the nature of rabbits.
Stump shrugged a little rabbitly shrug, considered one of the other does briefly, and decided he was better off keeping a look-out for eagles, owls, coyotes, and every other animal that enjoyed eating rabbits, hares, and bunnies. As a Jackelope he had nothing to fear, but as a Jackelope he knew it to be his duty to protect the lower species. That, and he was simply bored with the life of “adventure” his brother, then known merely as Fern- the name their loving mother had given him- had promised him when they left their warren for the vastness of the grasslands.
A black dot appeared on the horizon, backlit against the setting red sun. As it grew nearer it grew into the unmistakable silhouette of two long ears paralleling two stumpy antlers. It was running very fast. More dots began to appear behind it. They were bigger, much bigger, and gaining on the solitary runner. Then the howling began.
“Wolves!” Stump shouted, “Goddamnit Fern pull out, we’ve got work to do!”
“Its Fernando,” he remarked absently as he moved to stand with Stump.
The howling grew louder as the chase grew nearer the two. They could see the fleeing Jackelope clearly now, his eyes were wide with terror and his coat was matted and burred from days of hard travel. The brothers began to run to him in an attempt to disrupt his numerous pursuers. The wolves were arrayed in a wall of fur and slavering fangs.
“I think we’re fucked,” was the last thing said before they collided.