...across the sky.

Stars screaming and squealing, simpering a song soaked in sin. Bylah liked to pretend that he knew, that he cared for their stories, their loves and losses, the way people pity pathetic pictures of attention-grubbing whoredom.

Bylah didn't care about such things. He had no need to stoop and scrape for a scapegoat.

He watched them prance, preen, posture and put themselves on display. To him, it was pointless and petty, pretty sad, a state of affairs he never started to begin with.

What was the point of an affair when you had everything you wanted at home, honest and begging for one's attention and love, lust and lazing about on Sundays?

No, Bylah wanted to watch them waste, watch them writhe.

He wanted to watch them suffer.

Today was not a beautiful as it was the day before, or before that. Urro looks up at the hazy, dark sky and realizes it isn't going to be the perfect week to play, or search for berries, which was his most favorite thing to do in the whole forest. Urro has taken shelter in a beaver den. The river was no longer there though, it was dried up by the drought the forest had long ago, the river never did recover. But later on, as the years went by, the rainy season had brought a new river. He didn't like that river as much because all of the young fawns would play there, they would bug him. So he always went to the big pond instead, it was peaceful there. That was where Urro found the berries long ago and came across a very dangerous buck. His mother had always warned him not to go into the forest by himself during rutt season. To the larger bucks, he was a competition. As Urro thought about this, he layed his head down resting his eyes, the weather had exhausted him. He was gloomy just like it was. As the rainy day went by, the sun started to peek from behind the clouds. Urro rose up from his resting place and stuck one foot out to feel the grass, he quickly pulls away. Too wet. He decides to wait a little longer for the sun to dry up the grass. As he waits, he paws at the soft dirt waiting for the minutes to go by, maybe hours. Urro gets restless and decides to head out anyway, he can't bare the boredom any longer. One foot out, and then the other. He stretches way out past the beaver den feeling the dry grass on his legs. Wait... it's dry! This excites Urro and he dicides to leap and play in the fields just once, but first he must find his mother. "Baa!" He waits. "Baaaaaaa!" Far off in the distance he hears his mother's call. He follows her scent leaping over fallen branches and dodging low tree limbs. And there she is, waiting for him. Urro frollics over to her nuzzling her soft, warm fur. He missed her. She was worried about him, especially during the storm.

Hello. Can all of you please tell me what you like AND dislike about my stories so I can improve and write more based on the comments. All you have to do is reply to one of my messages (especially this one) and just inform ME of my OWN stories. It's kind of fun actually. You do not have to do this, but it would help me tremendously with my stories. Oh, and one more thing, you can now request stories for me to write, they will be posted under writing on my blog (ForestOrb). I will not be able to write on all of the requests, but I will choose the ones I like best. And if you have ANY questions, please ask! Thanks to all of you! -ForestOrb

got a tattoo of their artwork?

Okay I don't even know where I'm going with this...

ONE TWO THREE FOUR

BASICS
Name: CrossBones
Identification: At gun point
Gender: Male
Set: Crying Idol Mask, Dotd Pelt, Real Deer Antlers
Voice: x (at 0:08)

PERSONALITY
Personality: Vivacious, Curious, Observer, Inquisitive, Friendly, Lazy, Calm, Patient, Hot tempered, Can be intimidating, Powerful

RELATIONS

ART
By me: x(uncolored human appearance)
x

Minori stared up into the darkening sky, the far western horizon blazed red as a golden sun sank bellow. The sky was cloudless yet diamond tears fell, spattering the stones all around. Rust red hair, a mere shade lighter than the blood-wet pool he laid in, fell away from his face. A band of boyish freckles played across the bridge of his nose, enhancing the green of his eyes. Blood bubbled in the corner of his mouth to spill down his cheek. Opening his pale lips a fraction, Minori dragged a painful breath into his lunges. Long ragged cuts had been crossed down the breast of his once white shirt, now stained with his own scarlet. His eyelids fluttered closed as he drew another rasping breath. “Why Aki...? Why...?”


The night sky burned bright with a thousand dancing lights as a crescent moon cast a silver curtain over the darkened world, like a lamp-post lighting the old streets of London. A young boy with rust red hair ran past a doorway, his voice piping as he was not yet of age. “I'm late! Why do I always have to take a leak just when it's lights out? And why does the loo have t'close down at early dark? Man I hate it!” slowing to look behind him, the boy scratched his chin. “Man the Barrack-master's gonna have my hide if I don't hurry!” Taking off at top speed, skidded around the corner of a building; only to run straight into something.
OOOPPH!!!
“Ow... what on earth...?” he began, rubbing the back of his head. Then stopped, for sitting right in front of him, was someone else. Someone he had never seen before.
“Would you watch where your going?! Geez! What is with you?!” The kid snapped, his voice squeaking.
Pulling up his courage, he answered as bravely as he could. “Getting back to the barracks, I don't wanna get in trouble. And sorry to have run into you. I didn't know you were here.”
“Well look closer next time... wait.