The one liking of red
Loving the poppies
Fur the colour of blood
Red runs through everything

Genderless, yet female. She loves things of red, the flowers of rememberance of the fallen, upon the fields of war. Remembered on the day of silencing guns. The flowers adorn her, and match the fur of hers. The fur of blood red colour.

Enjoying the glittering lights, turning her from deer to squirrel, to bat, and to all other creatures that the spells of the green forest turn her. She returns to the form of the deer. Her fur of blood, her mask of skeleton.

Is she inside out? does she signify death? Neither is true, for she is rather kind and caring. She does not like to see the others shed tears of sorrow, nor does she like to see them sitting alone and by themselves. The feeling of being ignored by others, she detests this, and as such she makes sure no othe must feel it, in the hopes that she does not have to feel it.

The red does though sometimes end, and she turns to the colour of blue, with the feathers of green. The blood fur returns to fur, yet only for a short while. Soon enough the doe looking genderless one returns to the red.

Poppies, flowers of rememberance of the dead, the skull, shown only by the dead, fur the colour of blood. So much death,could be there, yet there is nothing so deathly within her. She is full of light, of impish delight.

Nothing angry, nothing bad, mostly good, rarely bad. Outwardly, looking like death, inwardly, she is full of life. That deer with the fur the colour of blood, and a love of flowers of rememberance.



*Dedicated to Spyrre*