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[e]: AAaaa, this is great, Aivilo;;

Aw, shucks

tracking

"Your favorite small forest creature"
:3
P.S. random doe

click

And thank you too for the donation.

My dream came true. I can't still believe that I can support The Endless Forest.

I have painted this, but I'm not really sure if it counts since I have painted it a couple of months ago. It does, hovewer, caputure the weather I love and my love for the Forest alone none the less.

♥

I love this omg

This is such a neat idea! I will definitely contribute, thanks for doing this. <3

this is awesome! tracking, i really want to come up with something.

Saving this cause contribute I will. And I just love the prompts c: <3

Gon' track. :j

Tracking! Will definitely write something later ^^

Stalking this for later.

The creation of Ben ! o3o

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa oh my gosh starling i'm freaking out here! that is so so incredible! the blocky style you chose to paint in somehow fits the forest spirit so so well, and the body shapes of the Gods and how their antlers join together in a glowing light to create new life, and then you make it ben's picto, ahhh ;_;
Gosh I cannot express my joy about this enough. Thank you so so much Starling! It's extremely beautiful, and extremely fitting for this event.

Ah this is a really good idea, love what's been made so far, will be watching this! ^^

All these Drawings are wonderful !

I am glad you like it so much! c: I've been wanting to draw these two in a while, then saw this post and thought... 'Why not?'
Again, I'm glad you like this picture so much. May the art keep coming.

"waiting out the rain as i look to the sun" < most joyful moment

t.

Quote: "The Creation of Deer and other forest life, or The Forest (or part of it) itself."

This one is rather long, sorry about that. I`m apparently incapable of making things short. |D
---

If one cares to lay still for a moment after they awaken, there will come a slight whisper of sorts, brushed up from the sun-spotted soil itself. Through the arcing, soft blades of grass shall this rudiment of a voice proceed, suspended in the air for a brief moment before falling delicately back into the ground.

Many dismiss this as a mere folly of the mind, something sprouted from the dulled imagination of half-lucidity. Yet not everyone is so quick to disregard the voices which flow through the greens-and if one has the patience to listen, than they will find that their fellow herdmates are not the only ones with stories to tell.

Indeed, the whispers and soft lipped echos which thrive within the earth belong to creatures of a different time-one that predates even the creation of the Forest itself. Though it is hard for many-especially the young and jovially naive-to fathom a time before the existence of the Forest, there did in fact exist a time when even it lived only as a melancholic and longing thought.

In this time, the land was not covered in soft grassy beds, nor shielded from the harsh sunlight by arcing and leafy trees. Instead, the land was covered by masses of rock and weeds, which stretched on for an unfathomable distance. The sun beat down upon this land all day, turning it into a unpleasant and foreboding place. Grass existed only in small patches, with water being even rarer. Indeed, the earth itself was an unwelcoming place, and the creatures that roamed it were forced to throw away everything in order to survive.

Among those that walked upon this earth were a herd of deer. They were rather different from those that roam the Forest today; indeed, they all bore the same look, with the only difference being that males bore antlers while females did not. While they may not have looked as diverse as those living in today`s Forest, they certainly acted in a similar fashion to them-each one had hopes and dreams, as well as families and friends whom they wished to protect. All of them were united by a singular goal-to survive, and find a place where they could thrive in peace.

Indeed, there did exist small pockets of shelter and reprieve in this world-or so the elders of the herd said. Whenever one cared to listen, they would sprout forth stories of lands of endless greens and eternally running water, where the thought of starvation never crossed one`s mind. The creatures of these realms were different as well, they claimed-kind and soft-hearted, so unlike the hardened creatures of this wretched land. They were pure of heart, perhaps made so by the work of the tranquil oasis's they thrived in.

Despite the hope that the tales of the elders brought, many of the fawns who listened to them were discouraged from believing them, especially by their parents. They were told that the stories of the elders were nothing more than make-believe, and that to survive, they would need to find a suitable place themselves. There was no use daydreaming about fairy-tale lands, they said; the only thing that they should concentrate on was helping the herd survive.

Not all of the fawns forgot about the elders tales, however-indeed, two fawns in particular clung to them even as they aged. One grew into a stag; the other, a doe. United by the hopes and dreams that the stories of their childhood had brought, they spoke often, retelling those stories between them when the rest of the herd was not listening. Again and again they heard the others dismiss the tales, telling the fawns to forget about them-yet they themselves clung to it, resolving to discover a land like the ones described someday. Eventually, their shared fascination with these stories blossomed into love, and they soon became mates.

Now, at this time, the herd was going through a number of exceptionally great difficulties; food was especially scare, and nearly all of the rivers had been reduced to trickling wisps of liquid that could barely be called streams. The herd`s numbers had been reduced, with only the strongest and most resolute able to survive. Among these were the mates mentioned before, spurred on by the dreams they had carried since fawnhood. Still, even their hope was hampered by the suffering of their
fellow herdmates-and eventually, it became unbearable to them.

Indeed, the pair found it impossible watch their herd succumb to hunger, thirst, and despair. Soon they began to plan between themselves, and eventually resolved to leave the herd, journeying far and wide in an attempt to find the lands that they still believed existed. It would be difficult, of course-in fact, they may not ever find the herd again-but it was the best plan they could come up with. Anything would be better then their current state, and the two would have soon left if there had not popped up some unexpected news: They were expecting a fawn.

The news came just a few days before they planned to leave, and with it came a major setback. The two knew that they could not bring a young fawn with them on their journey. The only feasible option left was to leave the fawn with the herd, and journey by themselves. The very idea of it broke their hearts-if they did not come back, they might never see their child again. They had, however, accepted long ago that life in this land was full of difficult choices.

The following months were long and harsh-but the pair managed to get through it, even as the expectant mother`s pregnancy began to weaken her. It was on a quiet night under the watchful eyes of her mate that she gave birth to a single, male fawn. While overjoyed at the arrival of their child, both parents were weighed down by the looming prospect of their departure. Indeed, they stayed only until their fawn was strong enough to get by on its own, and left with tearful goodbyes. After a few days, the herd assumed they had died, and their son was raised with little memory of them.

Unbeknownst to the little fawn, his parents were alive and well-or, at least, as well as one could get in a world such as this. They made sure to travel parallel to the herd, sometimes far from it, sometimes nearer. Driven on by their desire to find a place for their herd-and especially, their young fawn- to settle in, they traveled unfathomable distances, trekking endlessly through the scorching days and the frigid nights. On and on they traveled, their determination and willpower being perhaps the only thing that drove them on.

Over time, however, even this resilience proved to be ineffective in spurring the pair on. Indeed, there came a time where they tired to the extent in which it was difficult to walk. Though they managed to carry on for a bit-perhaps due to this same, sheer willpower alone-the trials that the land had laid upon them eventually proved to be too much. At this time, they were not extremely far from the herd, perhaps close enough to be heard if they screamed at the top of their lungs. Both of them had collapsed by now, and were curled up next to each other, each gazing at the other with mournful eyes.

Yet, was all hope truly lost? A multitude of thoughts were running through the minds of each; their herd, their fawn, the days spent traveling, the stories of old. Yes; those stories. The very stories that had defined the entirety of their lives, even now. The stories that they had mulled over as fawns, the wide-eyed and unspeakably bright excitement that it had brought them. The promises made in the tranquility of the night; they would find the promised land, they would find a place for their herd to thrive, they would find a place for their child to live. Even as their bodies began to still and their breathing labored, these thoughts raced through their head at exceptional speeds. They would find a place, find a place for...

They would find a place to be happy.

At that instant, the very earth itself seemed to explode, a bright flash rippling for miles and miles. An outburst of life had coincided with the deaths of a few, sprung up and flung from the crevices of the earth by what seemed to be a divine force. Centering around the limpid, peaceful bodies of the two were masses and masses of green, which soon began to spread, over the rocks, over the barren plains, around the craters which once held water. And the trees!-with a series of massive cracks, the bark was welded together, which sprouted forth branches which sprouted forth leaves. The fissures which once held rivers were filled again once more, with liquid streaming and splashing over the side in what could be described as an elated frenzy. Within a few mere moments, the land had been completely recreated, with the dying wish of a few having manifested itself in what seemed to be a new era of life.

And as the two themselves? Their bodies remained untouched for a moment or two, lying peacefully in this untouched paradise. It seemed almost cruel had they had sacrificed their own lives in order to make their dream come true-unfair indeed. And as the legends go, anyone knows that the pure of heart are never truly forgotten. And they would not be-for indeed, there was a new, different type of life emerging around them-small, intelligible sprites whose origin no one could guess at. Slowly they rose, surrounding the bodies of the two, a power slowly building up to immense proportions. In another instant, they entered through their mouths, glowing with an unspeakably beautiful light, enveloping them in sheens of pearly white, priceless gold, glowing greens. And thus, new life was breathed into the two,and they arose-not as mortals, but as gods.

Indeed, the mortal bodies of the two soon disappeared, exploding into an array of orbs and colors. Leaving only a vague imprint of their presence on the earth within the pressed grasses, they flowed throughout the new land until they reached a point atop a hill. Now the orbs compressed, melting into another until they formed a double monolith, a wonderfully mysterious structure that could not have been made by mortal hands.

Now then, what of the herd that the two had once belonged to? Well, as previously mentioned, they had been traveling only a short distance away from where this outburst of life had occurred. Fascinated by the sight, they had set out for it immediately-and, as expected, were utterly shocked by what they discovered. For a time they could do nothing but gaze in wonder at the lush and picturesque forest that now encased them, stretching on to such lengths that they would have called it endless had they not come from the world outside.

Among the herd, of course, stood the child of those that had given their lives to create their new home. He too was engrossed by the wonders that this place had to offer, and immediately set out to explore it. From the top of the hill, the new gods spotted him, and were overjoyed to see that he was indeed alright. From the top of the hill they began to whisper to him, and as their voices trailed through the soft green grasses, the child looked up in confusion. Who did these voices belong to? It took him a moment to realize who they were-and initially, the child became filled with excitement. His parents-the ones he scarcely remembered-were here, and he would finally get to meet them. Yet alas, the child did not know of their ultimate fate, and his searches around the forest yielded nothing.

Confused and saddened, the little fawn sat down and began to cry. Upon seeing this, his parents atop the hill became distressed as well. They had meant to welcome him to his new home, rather than upset him-so soon they began to whisper again, comforting the little child and assuring him they would always watch over him. The child was greatly surprised to hear this-and soon, his tears turned from those to grief to that of joy. Indeed, this strangely tearful joy was enough to drive furrows though the earth, carving up a path through which water flowed. Finally at peace, the little fawn laid down to rest.

And life continued on- the herd settled within the forest permanently, and their descendants still live there today. Over time, a multitude of different creatures arrived there-whether by chance, or by the hands-or hooves, rather-of the twin gods that are still said to watch over this place, for they are known to accept the many rather than the few. As for the little fawn, he lived a long and prosperous life until he died peacefully of old age, in which he was then encased in a mass of stone. That same stone structure is said to still stand there today, with the tears that flow through it providing life to the forest`s inhabitants.

So now you the know the story of the forest, and how it came to be. Perhaps the semi-lucid sensation of whispers through the grass are not such folly after all. Indeed, perhaps it would not be such a bad idea to listen to them every once in a while-for they have their own story to tell, one of an earth changed from a hopeless wasteland to a lush and enigmatic place, where the sacrifices of the hopeful still echo throughout the grass lined earth.

What a beautiful Story , Poppy
So touching and lovely !!

I working on my 2nd piece. So hopefully we can!

I have a question though, what category would you consider art of 'Velocity' falling under?

You can put him under "Your favorite small forest creature". I'm sure he'd appreciate that.

Velocity can have his own special category. The drawing doesn't have to fit my prompts exactly as long as it fits the "spirit" of the event so to speak.


[e]: acer you ninja. gonna read asap