A family of deer was playing in the soft flower bed of an endless meadow. The mother laid against a tree while two of her children fed. The father laid beside her, eyes glued to the three fawns who roughhousing to their hearts content. He looked back to his doe, slowly laying his head on top of hers, the soft wind against his broken antlers and the gentle sway of grass slowly lulling him to sleep.

 From out the grass walked a pair of rats, Eala and Gos, the latter holding two fawn corpses by their necks while the former stomped strait towards the older pair. The arrow went straight through the doe’s skull. Doubtful she felt it. Though the Eala’s attention wasn’t focused on that. The buck didn’t budge from where he laid. No sense of alert to his mate’s sudden end. The rat leaned into his face to read it. Peace. Not a shred of contempt. The rat’s eyes glanced down to the still feeding fawns. Eyes glazed, they never budged from their mother, even when he approached. He laid a hand on the bucks chest, feeling it’s lungs push against him once, and never again. The rat took a deep breath as he dug his nails into the fresh corpse, reached to his side to pull out a serrated machete about his size and began to saw off the bucks head.

 Gos was sitting cross legged, naked tail wrapped around his waist, nibbling at the fawn corpses. Deer was always a delight; the meat was just tender enough for rat teeth. And there was so much of it, a full grown buck could feed and entire family for months. That in mind, maybe they could sneak these two bodies for snacks. "What say you - the girl or the b-" 

 Eala smacked Gos across the face with the severed head of the deer, eyes blood red and teeth clenched to the point of cracking. Before he could right himself, his brother had already had a solid grip on his neck, forcing him to the ground. Gos began to lash out, but Eala had pressed his face to the side with hius foot, making the flailing cease. One wrong move now, and another soul would join this woodland family. With the head still in hand, Eala landed into his brother’s ear, hot drool leaking into it from between clenched canines. "Not only are the parents old," he started, his grip tightening on Gos, a muffled cough escaping, "but their litter are sick. Are you proud of yourself? Three weeks and that’s the best you can do!?" He reared back up and flung the head onto Gos’ chest, making the rat cough up a bit of blood. Gos rubbed his neck as he stood up, glaring at his brother’s back, but keeping his distance. 

"Oh, so we’re blaming now? Who exactly are you trying to impress? Sick or not - game is game. And this..." he held up the buck’s head, it at least twice the size of his own. A smirk spread across his lips,"would  make a great helm. Thank you." It physically hurt Eala to not turn around and saw his hands off. But that would mean that he won. And he’d rather die than live with that. Then a thought crossed his mind; aside from the two feeding and two passed, one fawn was unaccounted for. That realization made Eala’s tense posture loosen. He gazed up at the rolling clouds above and sat down. After a moment of no retaliation, Gos thought something was wrong. 

 "What’s the matter? Pop a blood vessel?"

 "Oh, it’s nothing," he sighed, laying on his back. "I could’ve sworn there were three fawns in the meadow, not two." The younger brother gave a mock laugh while admiring his new gear. Gos could care less what Eala thought. Old doesn’t mean bad, especially in this case. He could imagine it now; girls would crawl from whatever hole they grew up in, begging on their hands and knees to be his wives. And as if on cue, it started to rain. The head of the wise and strong buck began to sag and willow before his eyes. He thought of his wives questioning why he would bring such and ugly prize from an easy target. The swooning over power became bitter glares at filth and foolishness. He dropped the head, pulling his bow from his back and drawing an arrow in one swift motion, diving into the grass. Eala was laying on his chest, feet kicked up whilst watching the show of silent expressions.