This is the biggest Birstake in the history of birds, everywhere.

Him? The Golden Fawn? No, sorry, he’s Hazel. From Earth. You’ve probably never heard of him. Which makes a lot of sense why you might not realize he’s not all that, prophetically speaking. Wait, was this actually a case of mistaken identity? Was there supposed to be a different deerboy getting a wet crow to the antlers, but he’s here instead and now a prophecy’s been ruined forever by wrong place wrong time?

That’s a neat thought. He’ll come back to it later, there are more important things happening right now, like [i]aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa[/i]

He makes an undignified scramble out of the now-loose coils, and the only mercy is that nobody can clearly see this part. It’s like trying to crawl around in a bouncy castle; no purchase anywhere, and every other step the ground gives way and you go bum over teakettle. When at last he finds solid ground again, it’s another fumble to tug the sash down, and get the gag out of his mouth. Patooie! Which is almost certainly enough time for a wolfgirl to climb a tower and be about to pounce on him. Better peek so he at least sees his doom coming for him.

On the plus side, he’s not immediately captured, or peppered with heart-arrows. Downside, the huntresses won’t be stymied by the city guard forever, and one or both of those things will surely follow. Worst of all, neither of those facts have really sunken in, as each fresh scream sends his heart to yet-unexplored depths of mud. All this, because he got caught. Because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Because-

“Better get going! [i]Awk! Awk![/i]”

“Yes! Yes! I know! I’m going!” 

“Eh, doesn’t look like it!”

“It’s a work in progress!”

Right. Okay. Feel sad later, make an escape now. Escape to where, exactly? Down was no good, down had at least two snakes, that is two too many. The plaza? No, no, no, plaza is all kinds of bad. And his thoughts might’ve continued on these pathways until time and awks forced him to one bad decision or the other. But starlight does funny things to a fellow, especially one who’s never had so much as a sip, and the Crow of Destiny hadn’t asked before giving him a whole bird-ful. As his eyes danced beneath the glow of his antlers, they saw fascinating possibilities in a rope tied to the tall tower, and the sparkly light jacket that Purnima had dropped in her sudden snooze…

[b]Hunters![/b]

As your heartblades sing and dance with the city guard’s, there’s a glimmer of movement up above. Sorry, scratch that, there’s a whole dazzle of movement up above.

“Hey!!!!”

With a novel battle cry, the Golden Fawn wraps a spangly bit of fabric around a rope holding up some of the festival banners, the light from his antlers now positively [i]radiant[/i], and-

[i]”Aughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”[/i]

-well, he doesn’t particularly zip on down, there’s far too much friction, and it’s a struggle to get past the banners without getting completely tangled up in them, but he does stagger his way down quite admirably. 

“Stop fighting! I’m running away now!”

“...please don’t chase me!”

Then he’s falling the last few feet, windmilling his arms wildly to keep from eating pavement, and he’s off at a bouncing run to the far end of the plaza and the city beyond it. Away from the crowds, away from the festival, away from anything that he could possibly put between himself and the pack. Nothing but winding streets, the dark of night, and his glowing antlers.

Well. Perhaps you’ll be sporting and fulfill one of those requests?

[Rolling to [b]Defy Disaster[/b] (Grace) to protect the crowds, risking his own safety, taking -1 from [b]Women Want Me, Fish Fear Me[/b]: 1 + 3 + 2 - 1 = [b]5[/b]. Oops!]