Embertrail Buck

A mature buck approaches a scrape at last light, locked onto you while the sky burns orange and purple through the bare trees behind him. He's frozen mid-step, ears forward, caught between working the licking branch and figuring out if you're a threat. The trail cuts through a carpet of fallen leaves, all copper and rust, the kind of path deer have worn into the woods over generations. That golden backlight turns his outline into something almost mythic, a buck caught between day and dark. It's peak rut behavior—a good buck checking his signpost when he thinks no one's watching.