credit to @bex-dk!
Long lost were the dust and the smoke. As they moved upward on the mountain the soft breeze brought along scents of eucalyptus, wet earth and honeysuckle—a dynamic picture of the forest around them. The smells of beer and roasted garlic were soon added to the blend, along with the sound of music and lively chatter. Theo found solace in what the new mixture forecasted.
“The flying whale? What kind of name is that?” His brother asked. His sturdy build and thick beard emphasised by the flannel shirt. Kurt’s loud and borderline rude personality seemed almost stereotypical.
With no other building in kilometres around, the inn stood on the left side of the path—its base inclined to match the steepness of the mountain. All wood and rocks, the structure harmonised with the forest’s style—only the big carved whale seemed to disrupt the façade there where it lay over the guesthouse’s name. It was a local legend. Theo had read the story about the flying creature—the giant protector of those mountains. A whale many swore, over the years, they’d seen roaming the quiet lake in the middle of the forest.
“A whale in a lake? Now, a picture of that would be worth much more than one from that pale deer you’re looking for.” The older man said, laughing at his own joke shortly after.
Theo abstained from asking his brother why had he come along in that trip if he had no interest in the White Deer. The answer would be ‘because you invited me’ and Theo would be left with nothing much to say in response.
“It’s the first sighting of an albino deer in the continent.” he explained instead, suppressing an exasperated sigh. “And the university is very much interested in being the first documenting it.”
“Well, the university better be paying for tonight’s dinner then!”
They ate in the inn’s hall along with other campers and hikers. The food was accompanied by mountain-related tips from the more experienced. He took mental notes. His brother just scoffed at each recommendation. Theo elbowed his ribs—their code for ‘behave’—to no avail. He knew what was going through his brother’s head. Kurt was, after all, an experienced camper. He knew what he had to do—Keep the food out of the tent. Always carry enough water. Be careful where you set foot—all things he himself had been telling Theo on their two-day trip through the mountain before they had reached the inn. Few things annoyed the eldest of the Finnegan as being taken for a newbie. Soon, to the scoffing followed a tight jaw and clenched teeth. Theo decided they’d better call it a night.
With warm baths and soft beds, “The Flying Whale” had provided them with a good night rest, so the next morning Kurt didn’t seem as grumpy as expected. Biologist as he was, Theo began indicating the different vegetable species and chanting out scientific names. His older brother chimed in and responded to every plant and tree with its more common, earthly name. An unusual pair. A perfect match.
No deer by noon, yet Theo was so thrilled about their little game he wasn’t even upset. His disappointment came—as it had for many years—when Kurt grew tired of playing. It wasn’t his kind of game. Their level of excitement never matched, her mother had always said. They were playing soccer? Kurt wanted to go until the last sunbeam grazed the grassy field. Board games? ‘One more match please!’ was always Theo’s last plead.
“We should be right into their territory now” Kurt said when they reached the deeper woods. “Let’s have something to eat, then we can proceed more quietly, see if we get lucky”.
They were still too deep into the woods to be able to see the lake, but it was close. Even Theo could feel it. The trees were livelier, the animal traces more frequent and the wind was noticeably moister.
He was focused on the latter. The soft breeze offered him a plethora of scents, each engraving in his mind—wet soil, healthy trees, blooming flowers. Even the rottenness of dead trees and the sourness of animal depositions seemed to match everything else. All that was there belonged there.
His brother, he later found out, was distracted by his lunch. Curtis Finnegan—expert camper, always alert—surprised in the middle of the woods because of the pickles on his allegedly pickle-less sandwich.
The woods seemed to frame it. The trunks of the trees, the green from the leaves, all seemed to be there to complement the majestic creature. From antlers to hoofs—all white. Probably trusting itself safe by the distance it kept from the brothers, the White Deer seemed to study them, as if it was them the oddity in the picture.
It took Theo a few seconds to react. “Don’t move”, he whispered then as he raised his camera. Too slow. With one jump and two hops the deer disappeared from the scene.
“Come on” said his brother, now full-on camper mode as he launched himself after the animal. Theo followed right behind.
“There!” Kurt said when they reached a clearing. The deer had managed to put a small valley between them, but 175mm were enough to capture him. Enough to make everything else disappear—the mountain, his brother, the trunks and the leaves. For an instant, it was just him and the White Deer.
“Oooh, and you were excited about just one. What do you think of this little brother?”
He lowered the camera and with the mountain and the trees two more deer came into view. A female and its spawn—the latter as white as the warm milk that had accompanied his breakfast. A profanity escaped his lips, one crude enough to make his sibling let out an approving whistle.
“That a good thing?” he asked.
“Outstanding!” Theo said, feeling the excitement creep from his belly through his mouth. “Do you see what this means!?” It means the mother must have passed the gene too! Which means the mutation has been here from before we’d thought! We have to study this more carefully, bring the whole team here! This could lead us to understand the behaviour of the gene on a first generation spawn…”
He stopped talking when he felt the earth cede beneath his feet. Or maybe when he heard his brother’s yelp—the loose rock had obviously taken them both by surprise. He found himself six metres lower than he was before. Sore, but mostly unharmed. On this new position a much wider portion of the hill in front of him came into view. Six or seven more deer. Two of them also fully white. A calamity. One white deer was good news. Two white deer made for a promising research. Four white deer in a group of ten? There was no chance that was a mutation. All pointed at just another normal—if a little uncommon—species of white deer. Nothing new. No breakthrough in genetics. No biological discovery.
“Theo!” his brother yelled, coming to his aid. The rustle spooked the animals—who fled into the woods completely oblivious to his disappointment.
His brother arrived at his side in a much more controlled way than he had.
“Theo! Are you okay?” Surprisingly, he was. “You, clumsy bastard! What have I been saying about watching your steps?” Kurt said after realising Theo wasn’t too hurt. As his brother helped him onto his feet, he understood.
“Professor Finnegan, are you sure you want to do this trip yourself?” The Department Chief had asked two weeks earlier, surprised by Theo’s proposal. “We can send one of the students instead…”
He hadn’t realised then, but now he knew. It hadn’t been the thrill of the new scientific discovering. It wasn’t the sponsored trip to the mountains either. What had pushed Theodore Finnegan—who had always preferred desk-research projects over field ones—to take that assignment to photograph the White Deer was the golden opportunity that it brought to ask Kurt to come along. A trip to the mountains with his big brother. That was his goal.
They set camp by the lake that night. The warmth of the campfire spreading around them as his brother complained about the uselessness of the trip and the incompetence of scholars.
He just smiled as he playfully poked the flames, gaze drifting over the lake’s smooth surface. Maybe next year they should come again. To search for the whale.
Written as an entry to @GMuxx's art prompt writing contest! Made into something actually readable thanks to the guys at @TheWritersBlock. They're the best.