For millennia, forests have been revered as place of magic and danger. Lore from all over the world claimed that the thick trees hid faeries and goblins and other mysterious creatures within their shadows. Some were dangerous, possessing the power to spirit away naughty pups with their black magic. Others were venerable, wise ancients with the richest advice for only those deserving of it. While much of these tales were merely fanciful fables spun by woeful mothers in a desperate attempt to lure their rambunctious children to sleep, others still bloomed from grains of truth. After all, Calliope, herself, enjoyed lurking in the hearts of forests. It was here she felt at her most powerful, where nature itself, with its trees and fog and beasts, conspired with her to bring her magic to life. In the darkness, it took little to no effort to summon up even the most grandiose of illusions. After all, she had the flickering shadows to aid her.

So, when she was first alerted to the newcomer, Calliope couldn’t keep the sly grin from spreading across her lips. While she was confident in her abilities to deceive and confound regardless of the time or setting, she looked forward to having the home court advantage. It had been a while since she last had the chance to amuse herself like this, and she wasn’t about to ignore the opportunity. Before any other lingering, well-meaning gods decided to steal this one from her, Calliope pierced the thin veil that surrounded her world and transported herself from her original position to where the stranger was in a single footstep.

Careful to keep herself hidden by tossing up an illusion to mask her presence, Calliope observed the white-furred she-wolf carefully. Despite physically being much smaller than the stranger, her emerald eyes shone with a predatory glimmer, as if she were the hunter and the stranger was no more than a vulnerable rabbit begging to be killed. What disguise should I use this time? She mused, watching as the stranger growled at a pair of birds that had surprised her. She certainly seems skittish enough. It wouldn’t be difficult to scare her. But is the effort worth it? Humming to herself, Calliope smiled dangerously as she finally came to a decision. The first of all lessons she intended to impart upon the chosen was that, in a world of magic and sorcery, they could no longer trust all they had before. The world of the gods did not abide by the same limitations that mortals had to abide by, and the sooner the newcomers realized that, the better. Especially if they were to be of any use to Calliope in the future.

Tail twitching as she focused, Calliope summoned her powers and instructed them to do as she wished. From the thick undergrowth, she created a massive stag. It was a handsome animal, with a thick, glossy coat and massive, sweeping antlers that boasted twelve tines each. As it stood to attention, it would tower over the stranger, and Calliope had no doubt that the stag’s sudden materialization, added together with the stranger’s disoriented sense of direction, would startle the wolf badly. It was only a question of if the stranger would blindly charge the illusion in a desperate attempt to protect herself, if she would run away and further lose herself in the woods, or if she possessed the self-control to overcome her natural fight-or-flight instinct long enough to listen to reason.

Satisfied with her speculations, it was now time for action. Sitting back on her haunches so that she was comfortable for the show to follow, Calliope had the stag approach the stranger, his hooves thundering with every step.

tags: Kimagure Stagner
words: 620

Though Calliope could not deny her disappointment when the stranger held her ground, she found more satisfaction in the fact that the stranger had surpassed her expectations. Despite having been startled in such a manner, the stranger had held her ground, aware that any sudden movements would have certainly incited a real stag to violence. She was intelligent and quick on her toes, two skills that were integral to success. If Calliope hadn’t been interested before, she certainly was now that the stranger had shown that she was worth the effort.

“Why do you try to run?” The stag rumbled, stamping at the ground with a heavy hoof and tossing his head back as his nostrils flared in warning. “Are you a coward, too afraid to stand and fight? Or have you still not realized the gravity of your situation? Fleeing will do you no good, wolf. No matter how far you run, you cannot escape your fate.”

This was the truth, and while Calliope reveled in speaking in riddles, the sooner the stranger accepted this fact the smoother the rest of her initiation into this realm would be. Now that this world has gotten a hold of her, she would never return to the one she had come from. It wasn’t as if she belonged there anyways, not with the innate powers she possessed. That was why she was here in the first place, and it was Calliope’s task to help her understand that. Only that there were no guidelines as to exactly how to do so, meaning she was free to approach the situation as… creatively as she wished.

“Surely, you can feel it,” the stag demanded, “the reason why this world chose you. You are special, compared to mere mortals. That has brought you here and is the only reason why you have not already been trampled underfoot, wolf. Now, before I lose my patience, stop cowering. Don’t you have any pride at all?”

tags: Kimagure Stagner
words: 327
notes: this is bambi if he became a jerk

At hearing her words, the stag reared up with a mighty bellow. “You are no fool? And yet, aren’t you lost within this unrecognizable forest? You claim to have traded your pride for intelligence, but all I see is a frightened whelp longing to burrow into her mother’s side. You may not have dignity, but you don’t have much else. In fact, if it were up to me…” Trailing off, he tossed his head irritably, antlers scything through the air in an unveiled display of aggression. Nostrils flaring, he pawed at the ground with his massive hoof, as if in preparation to charge the stranger. Lowering his head, he stood perfectly still for a tense second, the air around him charged with static. Then, instead of rushing forward, he relaxed, and raised his mighty head once more. “But, you are lucky that it is not up to me. The land has recognized you, for you are of the divine, as is any wolf that roams this world and the one beyond. All of you have been given the opportunity to be a god, for it is your birthright. But, only the strongest will succeed.”

It was a far cry from Calliope’s usually style of exposition, and she grimaced at its brutish forwardness, but it would have made no sense for such a great creature to speak in charms and riddles. Perhaps if she had generated a wily ferret instead, then she could have channeled more of her usual voice into its speech. But, in order to keep up faux appearances, some sacrifices had to be made. Besides, if she managed to trick the stranger this time – and really, was there even a chance of her failing in that endeavor? – then when she was to approach the stranger once more, she could incite a greater reaction from her.

tags: Kimagure Stagner
words: 308
notes: sorry for the wait!

The stag snorted contemptuously at the stranger’s bold words. She certainly spoke big, her voice flat without so much a stutter or any other sign of hesitation, but the whelp had yet to understand what she was really getting herself into. Well, that was why Calliope was here, and lesson stuck much better when they were experienced firsthand.

“If you are seeking information, then I do have plenty to share. But, you must earn it, whelp,” the stag rumbled, turning his head to the left so he could fix the stranger with a hard glare. “I don’t have time to waste on those who are unworthy of my attention. You say you will become one of the strongest. Prove it. If you truly have the ambition to be a god, to rise above and not waste away at the bottom of the heap, then complete this task and I will aid you. Fail, and I will never appear to you again. My name is Calliope, God of Trickery, and here is the mission I place unto you.”

Forward, the stag strode, hooves ghosting over the dirt underfoot. It was now that Calliope began to allow her illusion to fade away, content that she will have said all that she wanted the stranger to hear. If the stranger had any further questions for her once she had said her bit, then tough luck; she may have been a guide, but it wasn’t her job to babysit these mortals all the time. She had better things to attend to, such as napping in the gentle sunlight of the realm of the gods. Besides, her first task was hardly anything too difficult. If anything, it was extremely simple, a standard that all new arrivals were expected to figure out. And if the stranger had trouble with it, then Calliope would know not to bother with her anymore. A failure was a failure, no matter what pelt it wore.

The stag stopped short only a hairsbreadth away from the wolf, towering over her as it straightened up to its full height. “One cannot become a god without knowing where their powers lie. Head to the Cradle of Snowdrops, I believe there’s quite a few others like you wandering around that area at the moment. Converse with them, or not if you’re socially inept, and learn what aspect of life you control. Once you have done that, then call for me, and we will talk some more.” With those words, what remained of the illusion disappeared completely, and so did any indications that it had actually existed. As far as the stranger knew, she could have hallucinated the entire event. Satisfied with the part she played in it all, Calliope got to her feet with the intentions of returning back to the gods’ realm. But, before she could leave, she suddenly remembered one last thing. “Oh, and next time,” she summoned the stag’s deep grumble once more, and allowed it to echo through the clearing in a way that the stranger would be unable to pinpoint its source, “don’t forget to introduce yourself, whelp.”

With that, Calliope was gone. The only proof she had even been there was the slightly bent patch of grass upon which she had taken a seat. Already, the resilient plants were springing back to their original, upright positions.


tags: Kimagure Stagner
words: 558
notes: im so sorry she's trash