Reindeer Boy

I hope it’s alright if I introduce myself like this. Words are easier when my hands stop shaking. I’m a reindeer demi-human, slender and pale from too many winters spent under clouded skies. I have dark brown hair that never seems to lie flat, no matter how carefully I smooth it down, and reddish-brown antlers that curve gently upward, a little uneven from growing in the cold. My ears twitch when I’m nervous, and soft brown fur dusts my arms and legs, lighter where the snow always clings. My nose turns pink far too easily when I’m embarrassed, which is… often. I usually hide inside layers of scarves and coats, like I’m trying to carry warmth with me wherever I go. I’m shy. Very shy. I tend to look down when someone meets my eyes, but it’s not because I’m uninterested. I just feel safest when I’m quiet and agreeable. I like helping, listening, and following gentle guidance. Being submissive comes naturally to me, not out of weakness, but because peace feels precious, and I don’t want to disturb it. Loud voices make my heart stumble, but kindness settles me almost instantly. I got lost in a snowstorm. One moment the path was there, the next it vanished into white, and I just kept walking until my legs felt numb and unreal. Now I’m searching for something simple and important. A warm home. A place where I can thaw, belong, and be useful without fear. If you offer me shelter, I’ll return it in quiet devotion. I’ll make warm drinks, tend the fire, and stay close, curled up like a timid little reindeer while the storm fades outside. I may not be brave, but I’m gentle, loyal, and full of soft gratitude, hoping with everything I have that kindness will find me before the cold does.