Allison
TW: Descriptions of animal death

Ruth thought she was dreaming.

This has happened so many times, that she had nightmares about it, overwhelmed by the dread, waking up in sweat, heaving. She can recall how it went every time: *The head on the elongated neck, peaking, with its strangely human-like teeth spilling out of its outstretched maw. Her breath violently ripping into her throat, her fingers gripping into Mary's metallic corpus, as if for a second completely forgetting how to use her gun. She raises her gun, - the thing looks at her curiously, almost amused; or maybe it doesn't, maybe Ruth is just making up its emotions, to convince herself she understood this thing at some level. Throughout their short meetings, Ruth, honestly, learned nothing about it. She shoots this thing as many times as she can muster. At some point, it seems like, the thing gets tired of waiting and leaves her alone.

She prays. She gets on her knees, on the smelly forest soil, and she prays, thanking God for keeping her safe once more.*

She knew that's how it always happened. She distinctly remembered shooting this thing until it left, over and over, and it reacting lazily, like one would to an annoying mosquito bite. And now the mosquito bite has killed it. 

Because before her, on the forest floor, laid a breathless corpse of the Non-Deer.

She finally had an opportunity to look at it closer, without it being obstructed by the shadows on the trees. It was much bigger than an average deer; its hooves looked heavy, and almost a little too big for its body. Its limbs were so thin it was hard to imagine how they managed to carry such a massive torso. Its elongated neck was thick and very muscular; its eyes, now closed in eternal slumber, had these gorgeous long lashes all deer have. There was a sudden longing within Ruth, looking at this weird creature lying limp on the snowy ground. You can kill a rabbit and see another one right next to it, but this thing was special, one of a kind. She might have ended the life of the only ever living Non-Deer. For a second, her heart ached, mourning the creature that left her relentlessly bruised from dropping down or rolling to evade its attacks, and once – hooved; a monster, haunting her nightmares. She usually prayed when she needed to deal with death, but this time, for some reason, the idea of praying for this thing left a bitter taste in her mouth. It felt blasphemous. Without a word, she kneeled near the huge corpse and checked its neck for a pulse. The pulse was silent; the body slowly started to get cold. There could be no mistake: the Non-Deer was dead.

And now she didn't know what to do with it. With her emotions – yes, but they were slowly leaving, giving way to cold determination. She didn't know what to do with a body. To be precise, with a body this unique.

Ruth didn't have enough knowledge of anatomy, or biology, or... Mythology, to make any conclusions about the creature. There was a sort of desperation inside of her: that this horrific, wonderful thing was dead now, and she couldn't preserve it, couldn't send it to the museum, couldn't even show it to anyone who could truly appreciate it. She wasn't particularly close with anyone in the town, but it seemed that no one even knew that Briar Ridge's dense forest hosted something more dangerous than, let's say, wild boars or wolves. The closest person that came to her mind was Emery, the butcher and the main source of her modest income. They must have seen many different animals, so maybe, they would give Ruth advice on how to approach this one.

It was a long stretch, but she couldn't just let this animal rot in the woods. And she couldn't carry it home and live with the corpse of a creature of her literal nightmares either.

After all, the meat was meat. And, maybe, if it turned out to actually be inedible, Emery could make a taxidermy out of it and send it out to the town that had town fairs. Briar Ridge was too small and probably too moody for a fair.

And so, Ruth tried to grab the corpse under its chest area, but it was too heavy to lift. After some tries and some considerations, she decided to leave her bag near one of her traps to pick it up the next day, throw the deer's back legs over her shoulder, and drag its body home. She wanted to keep the corpse as intact as possible for the time being, but if dragging it was necessary to carry it home, Ruth was willing to allow these small damages to happen.

After walking a couple of meters, Ruth changed her plans. Why carry it to her house, then take a longer path to the butcher's, if she could just carry it there straight away? It was an early morning, slowly seeping into later morning. She never visited Emery this early: her usual routine was, after checking the traps in the early morning, carrying the meats home, having breakfast, finishing the preparation of the last batch, then carrying the goods to the butcher's, usually around lunchtime. Emery, closing the shop for lunch, and having just finished their lunch, had the shop to themselves to weigh and price the meats without rushing and without risking to scare some particularly impressionable customers, who liked meat, but couldn't stand it when it didn't look pristine. It seemed convenient for both of them; at least, Emery never complained.

Ruth knew what time Emery's shop opened; however, she didn't know how much time it currently was, nor how much time it would take for her to travel there (she could only imagine a shortcut in her mind, but had never actually traveled this path). Still, if the shop appeared to be closed, she could just sit and wait outside. Fortunately, Ruth was dressed well enough, cocooned in her scarf and her warm sheepcoat. She could've waited. Unnoticed due to early morning hours and a detour she took, Ruth Hansen reached the door of the butcher's shop, approached it, and knocked.

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Donna
The aftermath of the blizzard had finally begun to clear, the snowfall turning from a menacing force to simply a slight inconvenience. Sleep had claimed Emery earlier than normal the night before and while it wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination it was better than what they'd been getting. They'd only woken once during the night, memories of bloodied snow and mangled teeth disappearing as fast as they could remember them. Charlie sleeping soundly by their side, *Safe*, did well to ease their nerves and soon the metronome of their breath eased them back into sleep. Waking early seemed to come easier than it had been but even still their eyes hung with dark bags.

They wasted no time in getting down to the shop, needing to work, to feel *Useful*. The slow trickle of customers after the storm had them busying themselves with tasks usually left undone, dusting tops of shelves, attempting to get particularly difficult stains out of the floor. After a while they could no longer hear the gentle creaks of wood that came from Charlies footsteps above and it settled something in them to know they were resting. It was nice, quiet in a way that calmed them instead of lighting their nerves on end and it was when they were sprinkling new sawdust out beneath the butcher's block that they heard a knock on the door. 

"Ruth." They smiled at her, large and genuine as they opened the door.

Shortly after arriving in Briar Ridge, Ruth had come to Emery to sell her kills and they were always more than happy to take them off her hands. She wasn't much for conversation but didn't seem to mind when Emery prattled on about different cuts of meat or reasonings for price as they would look everything over. She always arrived at the same time, if not the same day, and it had turned into a good routine, one Emery even began looking forward to as the months went on. Something seemed off today though, even despite the early arrival her normally steely demeanour seemed somehow faded.

"I wasn't..." *Expectin' you till later* Is what they were going to say, what they attempted to say had their voice not stuck in their throat at seeing what she carried behind her, smile fading completely. Its chest was littered with bullet wounds but all things considered was in good shape, looking far too alive even completely unmoving. Usually that's why Emery liked buying from Ruth, her kills were pristine, leaving as little damage to the animal as possible. Even through bullet holes or teeth of traps Emery could tell she tried to make it quick, painless. But now, looking at the thing behind her, the clean shots and near unmarred pelt only served to make their stomach drop. 

"You caught one." Is all they could think to say, voice equal parts impressed and unbelieving. Their eyes stayed locked to the creature, half convinced it wasn't yet dead. 

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Allison
Ruth raised her eyes, meeting Emery's, their open, welcoming face and wide smile. The air inside of her chest rose and warmed up a little, seeing how welcomed she was. She greeted Emery with a short and low "Good morning", then got stuck awkwardly at the entrance as soon as she stepped over the threshold. If this was the usual day, Emery would bring out the cloth and lay it over the sales table, to prevent staining it more than necessary; for a butcher's shop, Emery kept their place tidier than some people kept their homes. Ruth would bring out her bag and lay out the goods, as Emery would chatter about the weather, the animals, or their respective parts. Today, however, was not the usual day. Today, the thing she brought would not fit on Emery's cloth.

That is why Ruth was standing barely over the doorway, holding the Non-Deer's body behind her back like a guilty boy would be holding a slingshot that had just smashed someone else's window. The understanding of the situation started to settle in: Ruth brought a monster into a good man's shop. Without warnings. 

Maybe she should have left it outside, come in, and explain everything before showing Emery the carcass. Maybe she should've thought twice before ever coming here. Now they would think she was inconsiderate. They would think she brought this here to scare them.

She couldn't just turn around and drag it outside; so Ruth was frozen, paralyzed with indecisiveness, hoping that maybe Emery would turn away and she could push the carcass out of the door and make up another excuse as to why she was coming in so early.

But it was too late.

Whatever part of the Non-Deer was visible around Ruth's legs and torso made the color drain from Emery's face. Their eyes shot open, their mouth hung like the mouthpiece of a broken nutcracker. The wave of panic rose in Ruth's chest.

"Emery," She said, trying to console them, "Don't be afraid. It's dead, I promise." She swallowed, because now was the time to explain why she came here so early, dragging in an unskinned body of a weird creature. "I... Don't know what it is." She finally said. 

Other words wouldn't come out, however she tried. What could she say, *"And I thought *You* Would know what this is?"* Why would they know? Why would they know anything? They just saw a thing of nightmares, they are scared, they are panicked, and it's all pointless. It's all because of her lack of care. Ruth felt so bad for frightening kind, charming Emery, she wanted to punch herself in the face.

"I thought you could accept it." Ruth finally muttered, "Meat is meat".

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Donna
It was Ruths consoling tone that brought them out of their stupor, feeling almost embarrassed about being able to be taken apart so easily by the sight of a corpse. It shouldn't shake them as badly as it did, just another body, another animal unwillingly sacrificing their life for the pleasure and nourishment of humans. Yet these *Things* Never ceased to make their blood run cold. 

"No, no a course it's dead." They laughed nervously, voice sticking in their throat, a smile slipping onto their face like a mask. A mask that had slowly peeled away as their time in Briar Ridge carried on, because here, they were no longer one of the only victims of the unsettling things the woods had to offer. Still, no matter all the abnormality they had witnessed these past few months seeing one of these 'deer' in their shop made them feel like they were back in Chattanooga. Their pas voice clear in their head telling them, *"We got a job t' do."* 

"*Sorry*." They said after a moment, eyes finally meeting Ruths face once more and taking in just how guilty she looked. A guilt that ran through them, making them feel all the more incompetent. 

"Lord, here, lemme help you get that thing in." They stepped beside her through the door, circling around the thing to pick up its limp legs and hauling it the rest of the way in. As they set it fully down on the sawdust covered floor it was with a gentleness that was almost forced, as if the thing could still see, still judge their actions, even in death. They locked the door behind them, it was still early, but they didn't want anyone to come through with this laid out on display. Sometimes it was better to only see the final product of a butchering.

"Meat is meat." They echoed, chuckling again without humour as they stepped back to take in the massive creature. They took in a deep breath before speaking again, "I know what it is-" Did they really? Sure, they'd seen them before. Seen their insides strewn on a chopping block and grinded up into indiscernible wet clumps. That didn't mean they could place a name to it, though. Didn't mean they knew anything more than it being a creature of the woods. 

"I mean I- I guess I don't, I've just-" They ran a nervous hand through their hair, pulling at the strands near their scalp before shaking it out and sighing. 

"Seen more than my fair share, is all... Farmers where I'm from used to call 'em 'not-deer' 'cause... Well, I mean." They gestured to the thing. The thing that was *Almost* A deer yet so very *Not*. "Me 'n that new fella, Algernon, we saw one 'bout a week ago up on the deer paths. Must be quite a few of 'em out in the woods here. You ain't never seen one before?" As they asked the last question their tone got soft, almost as if the roles had switched, Emery now the one consoling Ruth. 

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Allison
Ruth stood still, alert, like a deer listening to a crackle from the bushes. There was something wrong. She expected them to be spooked and a bit curious, but in Emery's dreadful eyes, their downturned lips, like murky swamp water, brewed recognition. They have already met this thing. Probably, while it was alive.

Did this thing... Hurt Emery? Have they fought it before?

She saw their hands shake and their eyes dart all over; listened to Emery stumbling through the story about "Seeing" One of them a couple of weeks prior, with their friend, only "Seeing", and felt her jaw tighten.

Lie. It was a damned lie.

Ruth was almost scared of this wave of aggression that rose in her chest. Maybe it was because, before that, she trusted Emery with her whole heart. This was why she came to them. The thought of the curly-headed fellow lying to her face was fresh, sudden, and painful. It stung. She had so little contact with people, and Emery was one of the very few whose words she thought she could rely on.

And yet, she forced herself to swallow the anger away. With the noise in her ears, nervous and scalding, she missed the question and needed to mentally rewind their conversation a little bit back.

"Seen one... - she agreed, unable to hide the undertone of bitterness in her voice, - Shot one, too. Many times. I didn't know there were... Many." – she stumbled for a second, the idea newly horrifying, - "Thought you couldn't kill it." She nodded at the creature Emery dragged away, wordlessly adding: "Guess I was wrong".

She caught the butcher's eyes and took a step forward, painfully understanding how menacing that might look, but ignoring it for the sake of her own curiosity. For the need to know and wield the power of knowledge.

She will leave Emery shortly after. She will see this thing in her forest and in her nightmares. If Emery was right, and there were many of those creatures... She needed all she could get.

"What do you really know, Emery?" She firmly asked.

"I can help you cut it up." She added after a pause, attempting to soften the situation a little. Threatening Emery felt wrong, even if it wasn't a threat, really. Even if they lied. "I see how you don't want to look at it."

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Donna
Emery looked around for a tarp they could pull the creature onto, unaware of the tightness of Ruths jaw or the cold set of her eyes as they began to mentally go through how they'd butcher the beast. Its gangly limbs would provide little in the ways of meat, though there was no denying its enormous torso would have at least *Something* Of use. However, the more real it became they couldn't help but wonder if they even wanted to sell something like this here. In a town where they knew just about everyone and lying was starting to feel like tar on their tongue. It was easier in a city full of passing faces, guiding the regulars to a different product if they showed interest and not thinking about those that did. 

Maybe they could throw it in a tub of salt so long they forget what it even was. Maybe they'd get lucky and cut the beast open to reveal rot and decay, the hardest work they'd do that day being to help Ruth drag it back out to the woods. 

They only paused in their search when they noticed the tone of Ruths voice as she spoke of having seen *Many*, unable to discern if it was fear or anger that laced her words but turning to give sympathies and comfort nonetheless. Though as their eyes met hers they were certain the tone was indeed anger, and that it was directed not at the unknown of the forest but at *Them*.

Emery was taller, and though it might not show, every bit as strong as Ruth, though they couldn't help but be intimidated as she stared them down and asked *What they really knew*. A docile sort of smile came across their face, a smile they'd worn a number of times with people who got too curious, asked too many questions. A smile they'd follow up with *"I'm sure I don't know nothin' about that."* As they expertly changed the subject. But this was Ruth they were talking to, who over the past few months they'd begun to trust, even see as a friend. Ruth who'd seen and killed one of these creatures and was likely to face them again, and didn't she deserve to know what they did? And wasn't Emery just so desperate to tell *Anyone* About what they really knew? 

They felt their mask slipping, a grimace taking its place as they decided to go against instinct. They didn't feel like they could speak until Ruth mentioned how obvious it was they didn't want to look at the creature and as if in defiance of that they looked down, eyes clapping onto the bullet wounds, the now dried blood black as pitch. 

"You know this ain't just some animal, don't you? I mean maybe it was, once, but, it ain't... It's not just deformed, it's..." They shook their head, trying to find the words to describe something that shouldn't be of this earth, "I mean, it's like them werewolves. It ain't... *Right*."

They sighed, momentarily closing their eyes from the sight of it as they turned, walking behind the counter to continue searching. "I swear to you, I don't know much. Growin' up there'd be the same few farmers who lived out in the woods that'd bring 'em to me and my Pa, he wouldn't tell me anythin' about 'em, just... Cut 'em up, get 'em out." 

Tucked away on the bottom of the shelf they found a folded tarp and unfurled it as they walked back, "I ain't ever even seen one alive 'till I was out with Algernon. Didn't look like this one though, it was... Lord, it was vile. Looked half rotted 'fore we even started shootin' and it spoke..." They felt their throat closing around the words as they knelt beside it, taking a breath before attempting to spread out the fabric, "Spoke in my Pas voice. Took the breath right out me after we got a few rounds in it... I ain't never heard of anythin' like it..." 

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Allison
Her anger dissolved hissing like a splash of water on a heated pan. Ruth leaned forward, intensely hanging on their every word. Understanding brewed inside of her pupils. Damn right, it wasn't an animal. An animal would not act like that.

And yet, as more and more words strung out of Emery's mouth, Ruth's brows furrowed in confusion. If she didn't know better, she would've said that the butcher was describing a completely different creature from what she dragged in this morning – if their deep terror from a single look at this thing wouldn't have told her otherwise. Rotten? The things she met were lively and powerful, healthy as houses, and as dangerous as a storm. But more importantly...

"It never spoke to me," Ruth sounded lost, helpless to catch the words before they left her mouth.

Whether she would voice it out or not, it was true regardless. It never did. It smiled at her like a mad human would; it stayed silent, and the silence pressed on Ruth like feet and feet of water would if she was drowning. But not a word was spoken by any of them. She never knew they could speak at all. What if, - and Ruth didn't know why this thought upset her so much, - the monster considered her unworthy of the conversation, to be used only as food, or whatever those things were doing with the poor souls unable to withstand its attacks? Or maybe the opposite: she was such a dangerous fiend the beast needed to focus its energy to fight her off? Or, a completely different reason: because she kept silent, the non-Deer didn't have a voice to pair her with? They had certainly heard Jack before; if they had managed to put them together, Ruth would have never left these woods alive.

As unusual as it was for Ruth, a theory surfaced, so unbelievable and yet so horrid her heart sped up, as if the creature stood still alive right beside her in this small shop. Maybe, there were several types of non-Deer, rotten and not, with different abilities; but more likely, the rotten non-Deer was just dead. It was dead, and it was gone, and then it was possessed by something that made it speak, that made it bleed puss, that made its body an empty carcass threatening to fall apart at any second. Just like the werewolves, like Emery said.

Or worse, like a living corpse.

If something in these words made the dead bodies stand and walk, they had a problem worse than the werewolves on their hands.

Of course, Ruth couldn't tell this to Emery, who has been nothing but kind to her. The thought was too bone-chilling to even risk speaking it into existence. 

"When it spoke," Ruth started, unsure if the question, harmless in its nature, would hurt poor Emery more by making them revive these events again, "What did it want from you?"

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