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CHAPTER ONE

ONE THING THEY all three agreed on was that they had been worrying something was wrong with them.

Tawny wouldn’t admit it to them, of course. She did worry about that very thing, actually, a lot of the time. She worried she was damaged beyond hope. Too loud, too opinionated, too forceful, too brash, too everything . But if a person said that to someone else, it was a risk. What if that other person agreed?

No.

Better to keep the entire idea inside her head where she could try to corral it into the back of her thoughts, where she could try to shush it up. Nothing good came of even thinking that thought.

They were standing in the lobby outside the auditorium of the Cypress Center, during a break in the orientation presentation. The rut was going to be held on these grounds over the next few weekends. This presentation was given only to does, and they had sat down next to each other by chance.

No one probably would have sat so close, but the staff kept coming through before the presentation started and urging everyone to scoot towards the center and the front of the auditorium, telling them not to be shy, and not to leave empty chairs between themselves, to get close and comfy! This last bit had been delivered with a wide, wide smile.

Most of the staff at the Center were deerkin, but not all of them were. There were a few raccoonkin and squirrelkin. The Center was used for other preykin besides deerkin on occasion, after all.

Anyway, now, they were on a break in the middle of the presentation, and they were standing in a group of three eating donuts or coffeecake and drinking coffee or tea, all of them standing together for no other reason than they’d sat close inside the auditorium.

“Obviously, it’s silly to think anything’s wrong,” said a doe named Eiren. She was taller than Tawny, but lither, her limbs and neck graceful and long, her ears pointed and expressive. “It’s sort of just an appropriation of large predatorkin culture. It’s natural for them to pair bond, but it’s not natural for us .”

“Yeah,” said the one named Rora. She was shorter than both of them, younger, too, Tawny thought. Rora’s cheeks were round, her doe-eyes wide, her figure full and youthful. “Yeah, that’s what my ma always says. And my gran, too. That I’ve gotten my head full of junk from all the romance novels I’ve read about wolkfin and eaglekin and everything else. My ma says does are stronger than prey women, that we don’t need men to raise our babies.”

Tawny shrugged. “Well, that’s not true, though. I was raised by my uncles and great-uncles just as much as my ma. It’s not like bucks weren’t around .”

Eiren lifted one finger, pointing up at the ceiling. “Exactly. We have a workable culture. It takes a whole herd to raise a child.”

“Sure,” said Tawny. She sipped at her coffee, rueful. “On the other hand, I’m not exactly living with the family right now, and neither are most of my brothers, for that matter.”

Eiren chuckled. “Me either. But then, I’m not doing this to get knocked up.”

“Me either,” said Rora.

“Oh,” said Tawny, taking them both in. “Really? I’m the only actual breeder here? You two are just here for kicks?”

Eiren shrugged. “I was on my way back from getting coffee at my favorite coffee shop, and I saw three women going in to the Center, and I asked them what they up to, and they were like, ‘Rut weekend!’ And I followed them in and signed up.”

“This morning?” said Tawny, raising her eyebrows at the woman.

Eiren nodded, giggling. “I’m not always impulsive, but when I am, I’m very impulsive.”

Rora shook her head, her eyes even wider. “I could never do something like that!”

“Sure you could,” said Eiren, grinning encouragingly at her. “But are you really here because your mother made you come?”

Rora’s face fell.

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it,” said Eiren. “I’m only saying, if you don’t want to be here, maybe you shouldn’t. This is a serious thing. It’s sexual intercourse, no matter how much that woman up on the stage wants to go on about the sacred traditions of our heritage and how important it is to uphold the old ways and everything else. This is a big deal.”

Rora squared her shoulders. “Well, I’m just ready. And I don’t think it’s going to happen any other way. I’m a junior in college, and I’ve resisted it for years now. My ma wanted me to do it the minute I turned eighteen, of course. She would have been happy enough to have me preggo. She says she wants grandfawns to spoil.”

“What do you mean you’re ‘just ready.’ Ready for what?” said Tawny, looking the younger doe over. “You’re not saying you’re a virgin?”

Rora nodded. “Yeah. And I want to actually get laid sometime this century—”

“Okay, you don’t need to come here ,” said Eiren.

“Definitely not,” said Tawny. “Men of all species don’t take a lot of coaxing. If you just want to lose your virginity, there are easier ways.”

“More comfortable ways,” said Eiren. “Ways that mean it won’t happen after running in the out of doors.”

Tawny and Eiren both laughed.

“Maybe for other people,” said Rora. “But trust me, I have tried, and no one wants to, not with me.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not true!” said Eiren.

“Definitely not,” said Tawny. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Rora laughed, spreading her hands. “And yet.”

Tawny nodded slowly. Right, this was it, then. They all thought something was wrong with them. Sure, Eiren might say this was a lark, but there was a reason she’d been drawn into being this impulsive in the first place.

Eiren put her hand on Rora’s arm, comforting. “Oh, I get that. It’s just… it isn’t true.”

“The thing is,” said Tawny, “we’ve all exhausted ourselves with conventional means of mating, haven’t we?”

“Conventional according to whom?” said Eiren, but she was grinning.

“Conventional according to society at large,” said Tawny. “And, no matter whether it’s ‘natural’ for deerkin to pair bond or not, it’s something we have all tried, isn’t it?”

“No,” said Rora, giggling. “Didn’t I just get done saying that—”

“Well, it’s what you wanted,” said Tawny. “Not just to get laid, but to fall in love. With one guy, and to have the whole package, mom, dad, kids, nuclear family unit. People want it.”

“Right, and if it were so ‘natural,’” said Eiren, “it’d be easy to have, and it’s not, not even for species who traditionally mate for life with one other person. You’ve seen the statistics on divorce, even for wolf and eagle mates, haven’t you? There’s nothing wrong with us, that’s all I’m saying. If we tried and it didn’t work… that’s actually normal. Most relationships don’t work. Most relationships end. If one doesn’t, you stay in it, but you never know when one person is going to wake up one morning ask for a divorce, do you?”

“That’s very depressing,” said Tawny.

“Saying depressingly true things is my gift,” said Eiren with a little grin. “Truth is depressing, by and large.”

“I don’t agree with that,” said Rora, shaking her head.

Tawny sighed. She might, actually, agree with that. But some things were better off not being said. “I was married to a squirrelkin. We both agreed we were going to do in vitro, since we knew we couldn’t reproduce naturally. I don’t want to be an old mom, you know? So, at that point, I’m twenty-nine years old, and I start saying we need to start the process, and he doesn’t want to spend the money. He puts me off two years before he completely does an about-face and says he doesn’t want kids at all. He wasted my most fertile years, wasted them.” She seethed, still angry at her ex-husband for what he’d done to her. “So, I don’t know. I tried the apps. I tried dating. But I want a baby, damn it.”

“I’d be here too, then,” said Eiren, nodding at her. “Good for you, and sorry you went through that with your ex-husband.” She shrugged. “Me? I’ve just had no luck whatsoever with men and relationships. If I like him, he doesn’t like me, and if he likes me, I don’t like him that much. You know how that goes?”

“Sure,” said Tawny.

“Longest I’ve ever dated anyone is six months,” said Eiren with a shrug. “I know there’s no point in thinking there’s something wrong with me, but…”

“But it’s hard, sometimes,” said Tawny quietly, against her better judgment. “Because you look around at everyone else, and it seems so easy for them.”

“Yes,” said Rora, “so easy for all of them. And then, for you, it’s…” Her voice got quiet. “Hard.”

They were all silent for a moment, looking at each other.

“You think everyone feels this way?”

“Some people are married to their high school sweethearts with three adorable children,” said Tawny caustically. “Not everyone feels this way.”

“Well, about something ,” said Eiren. “Nothing’s easy for everyone.”

Rora lifted her chin.

Tawny shook her head.

Eiren reconsidered. “True, some people do have charmed existences, don’t they? There are people for whom everything comes easily.”

“Those people don’t have to sign up for the rut to get laid,” said Rora.

“Those people can get pregnant before they are thirty-one,” said Tawny.

“Those people can attract a man that they, too, are attracted to,” said Eiren. She shrugged. “Fuck those people.”

“Seriously, though,” said Tawny.

An announcement came up over the auditorium PA system. “Break time, over, ladies!” chirped the voice, cheerful and bright. “Back to your seats for the rest of the presentation.”

Eiren shrugged at the others. “Guess we’ve got to go back in.”

The PA continued, “Remember, no food or drink is allowed in the auditorium. Please dispose of all trash in the available receptacles!”

Tawny gulped down the rest of her coffee even as Rora shoved the rest of her donut in her mouth and chewed.

The three tossed out their paper cups and napkins and made their way back to their seats in the auditorium.

They didn’t have to wait very long before the lights came up on the stage and the woman who’d been speaking to them before was back. She was a doe, wearing a pantsuit in a color that was probably called burnt umber or bronze or something wherever it was listed, but just looked orange . She had long dark curls that flowed around her features, and her ears were pricked upwards while she talked, as if she were perpetually excited.

She talks to us like a preschool teacher talks to children, Tawny thought, less than charitably.

“Hi everyone, I’m Arica again!” said the orange-clad doe from the stage. “First hour, we talked a lot about the whys of participating in the rites here, why it is a deep and sacred practice, why it calls to the undercurrents that move through each and every one of us. This hour, we’re going to spend our time talking more about specifics and the nitty-gritty of how this is going to work, because I know you’re all curious.”

Right. The reason that they were here, at this presentation, was because they were all first-timers. If you’d participated before, you didn’t have to attend the orientation.

“So, first of all, it’s very important, if you are participating in the rite with the intent of breeding, to be sure that you are, in fact, fertile,” said Arica from the stage. “Almost all does are fertile within a window of the next six weeks. Many of us are already showing signs of estrus. If you are not showing signs, you may wish to wait and come back. However, we do recommend, for women who are serious about getting pregnant, to come and participate every weekend throughout the season, until you get a confirmation of a positive pregnancy test. Even then, if you would like to return, you may, of course!” She tittered. “Many of us find this sacred time of the year very fulfilling .”

Oh, eww. Tawny made a face and looked down, feeling a kind of second-hand embarrassment that she could never shake, though she didn’t like it. Why did people have to say things like that? Some things did not need to be spoken aloud.

She noticed, however, that Eiren was smiling, seemingly having enjoyed that.

Figures, thought Tawny. She didn’t know Eiren well, but she knew her type. Tawny might not understand that sort of woman, but that sort of woman did exist.

“Now, this is very important,” said Arica. “When you arrive in your room for the weekend, you will find a welcome packet.” She held up a finger, signaling everyone should give her a minute. She turned and walked back, the microphone on her lapel picking up the sound of her heels on the floor, as she picked up a canvas bag from a table that was set up on the stage. She held it up. “These are gifts to you, commemorative totes provided generously by the Women’s Auxiliary to the Stags’ Club in Alberdeen.”

A spattering of polite applause.

“Yes, thanks so much to them,” said Arica. She tugged out of the bag a little jewelry card with two earrings on it. The earrings were the dangly kind, shaped like leaves, but they didn’t match. One was white and the other was red. “So, you are going to select one of these to wear for the rites. White means, well, breeding welcome.” She giggled. “Red means stop.” She touched the red one. “All of the bucks are well-versed in how important it is to respect our wishes. As I have said last hour, there are overtones to this event that may appear to be at odds with the idea of consent, but we are very, very anti-non-consensual activity here, and that sort of behavior will not be tolerated. So if a buck sees this red leaf, it means he will pull out , ladies, you understand?”

A ripple of laughter went through the auditorium.

“And,” said Arica, “I can hear you out there, saying yourselves, but that’s not a guarantee of anything, and you are right. So, you will also find this in your bag.” She reached in and pulled out a little tube. “This, ladies, is a spermicidal lubricant, which you can apply beforehand.” She pulled out something else, something that had a sort of syringe-like applicator. “This is an insertable spermicide, if you would like a backup, because we all know we can’t be too careful,” she said. “Some of us may wish to use diaphragms or female condoms, and all these are absolutely fine and encouraged.” She smiled.

Tawny touched her ear, wondering what someone was supposed to do if she didn’t have pierced ears.

“I want to remind you all that we do not allow anyone into the rite who doesn’t have a clean bill of health with STD testing,” said Arica. “And also, if you do not have pierced ears, please see the front desk when you are leaving the auditorium and there will be some ladies there who have an alternative that will go around your ear.” She smiled again.

Well, then, that answered that question.

“Now,” said Arica, “I want to talk a little bit about breeding lairs, because if you are designated as a breeder, and you do have what you might call a successful interaction with a buck, that is, if the two of you both enjoy yourselves and like the look of each other? If so, you may be asked to a breeding lair by a buck. These are temporary shelters, small rooms, constructed by bucks for the care and comfort of does, with the assumption that if a doe goes into one with a buck, the buck does not have to fight off any competitors, because she has acquiesced to be his for the duration of the rut.” Arica’s eyes brightened, and she pointed. “Yes, I see someone’s hand out there. Is that a question?”

“The rest of the rut means the whole weekend?” called out a doe in the audience.

“Yes,” said Arica. “Not the entire season. You could come back next weekend and be under no obligation. All bucks do not participate every weekend, anyway. It can be quite a strenuous experience for males.”

Despite this, Tawny knew there was never a lack of participants on the male side for these ruts. Back in the 1970s, these events had become so unpopular for females, however, that they had offered to pay women to participate. At the time, the perception was that this amounted to nothing more than institutionalized sexism, and no self-respecting doe should subject herself to it.

Tawny couldn’t deny she’d thought this herself. Sure, some deerkin did the ruts, but it was the twenty-first century. Certainly she wasn’t going to participate in something so backward and savage. And yet, here she was.

And shamefully, this talk of breeding lairs and being “his” was making her feel a little bit, uh, excited. She resolved to turn that part of her off, to approach all of this from a perspective of academic curiosity.

Arica was still talking. “Now, I also want to stress that we are very anti-non-consent. So, if—at any point in time—whether you have agreed to a breeding lair or no—you may say, ‘Stop,’ or ‘No,’ and the buck is honor bound to do as you wish. If he does not, you will file a report and he will face severe disciplinary consequences, which will include being barred from these rites for life, no questions asked. We have no tolerance for that sort of thing. Not at all. And I want to be entirely clear about that to each and every one of you. One thing we must acknowledge is that our traditions are a tradition that honors the strength of females, the resilience of females, and also the reverence by which females should be treated. Though bucks may compete with each other for access to a female, it is ultimately her decision if she will allow herself to be mounted by the winner. Even in the wildest and most savage of our history, this has always been true. We are not a species who has ever invited forcefulness or rape.”

Right , thought Tawny. Yup, this is true. Back in the day, when a doe in heat tried to wriggle out from under a buck, he didn’t just use superior strength to restrain her and force her to take his big stag cock. It was so consensual. Uh huh.

She was sarcastic because there was no species on the planet who had a past that was full of true consent. Consent didn’t enter into the picture until a species had reached a certain level of social connection. Consent was about preserving social bonds. Morality was about social bonds. It had precisely nothing to do with reproduction, which was pure instinct.

However, thinking all of that was just making her feel more excited. She was embarrassed at herself. She was hard-up, it was true. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid. This whole situation, it was kind of hot in a way. Sex with a stranger out in the woods, both of them giving in to their natural desires…

Well, anyway, here she was.

But I’m doing this for a baby, she reminded herself. Not for a buck.

Hell, she’d never really truly considered a relationship with a male of the deerkin. They were notoriously solitary, and many of them liked to claim that it was natural for them to be this way, not that they weren’t all suffering from an avoidant attachment style.

Except when it came to their moms and their sisters and their moms’ and sisters’ children, of course. It didn’t make sense, but then, traditions died hard.

She didn’t think her brothers would come live with her once the baby was born or anything, but she knew they’d be available, ready and willing to help out with anything she needed. It would work out. Everything would be fine.

But she couldn’t help but wonder, really. She’d only ever had sex with a buck once, and she had to admit there was something alluring about the antlers, about the size of them, about the way they were made to fit together. Of course, that time, neither of them had been in season, so…

What would this be like? Would it be as intense as she hoped it would be?

Damn it, she was excited.

Arica was talking again, and Tawny had missed half of what she was saying. “…a doe may leave the fields and wooded areas any time she likes. Leaving the breeding grounds means that she may not be approached by bucks for sexual intercourse. If you are accosted by men who wish to accompany you to your rooms in the Center and you find their advances unwanted, please tell them no . If they do not stop or harass you in other ways, you may fill out a form to report the incident. But I will say that bucks are in a highly excitable state during a rut. If you are absolutely certain you wish to restrict your interactions to the fields and woods, the safest thing to do is to stay out of common areas that are shared with bucks.”

Tawny thought about this. So, this was really just a big singles free-for-all weekend, wasn’t it? Like the little events that were always being pushed at her on the apps. Come do an evening of rock-wall-climbs with singles! Except this was a big sleepover in a nice conference center where all of them were horny out of their minds.

“That would include the bars in both the Oak Room and the Ash Veranda, which will be open this evening,” said Arica. “We recommend that neither bucks nor does drink alcohol during this sacred rite, because of damage to physical prowess, endurance, and mood when hungover. But drinking is not forbidden. Some people will wish to participate in the midnight run to open the rite this evening. Others will wish to wait until mid-morning tomorrow. There are two events on Saturday and only a morning event on Sunday. Checkout is 4:00 p.m., as noted in your welcome packet.” A pause. “I think I’ve covered everything, so we have time for questions. Raise your hand and wait for someone to bring you a microphone, if you please?”