I'm so tired. D:
Haven't been in the forest in a long while, simply because I feel too stressed to just sit back and relax.

I guess this is a point where you worry. Will try to fix this... soon...ishly.

[=10]
It was the hardest moment of his life, watching her leave. More difficult to accept than when he realised he was bound to a single tiny building for the rest of his life. More crushing than her refusal to marry him. More frightening than the notion of having a child.

A soft, broken groan slid from the man's mouth, hands gripping at carrot-coloured hair, fingers curled around the greasy strands. They tried to slide from his grasp; he held them still tighter. He gave a shudder and sucked in a breath, trying so very hard to think.

His once-love was a woman of her word, and this tension had been building for a long time now. It had only been a matter of waiting for it, the last straw to break the camel's back, the one thing that would finally make her go. Love, if she even felt it for him, if she ever really had, would not bring her back.

Crippling, to think that the woman carrying his first and now only child, might never have loved him in the first place. But she had been good, once. She had been...someone. But since she'd bound him to that place, she'd changed. Become someone else. Guilt? No. Never. She didn't feel it. What drove her was determination; power; the knowledge that she could do as she wished.

And she would not let her failed, trapped, weak 'lover' stop her from becoming what she wished to become. He knew that. He'd known that from the start, and not once had he tried to get in her way. Perhaps he'd been afraid. Did that make him a coward?

Ven was no average woman. She was cruel; she was distant; she was twisted and she was no-one else's, owned by none but herself. And he, silly and naive, had thought that she could love him. He'd sacrificed everything he had to bring her to their new home, to support them. And she repayed him by binding him to one building for eternity, and leaving him childless.

Auburn eyes watched the long blade in his hand. It was not a sword, nor a dagger; nothing so meaningful as that.

Hiii. This is a boring blog entry... Just wanted to see if anyone wanted to say hi or something P: Yeah, it's four AM, i'm working on Rannoch's bio. I think a lot of you will be surprised by his story c':

The other day I went to my local grocery store and had to pick up some deli meat. I approached the counter and asked for a pound of ham and a pound of turkey.

While I waited, I looked at all the different kinds of meat there. Turkey, chicken, beef, pork, salami, and so on.

It took me a moment to understand what I was actually looking at. Animals. I'm so used to looking at the meat in the deli and meat departments as nothing more than globs of protein that I often forget what these sources of food truly are. The same can be said any time I eat chicken nuggets or pizza with pepperoni on it.

It isn't my intention to be impolite to these creatures. I just forget. We all sometimes forget.

It simply takes a strong heart to remember.

I may never know what it is like to be an animal. I dream of it as many do, wondering what it would be like to live in an open plain where I could live off of grass and enjoy the gentle breeze. I dream of looking to the sky and wondering what clouds are, and having a moment of triumph protecting myself from a predator such as a wolf or a coyote.

I dream of life as simple, not so complex as I understand it now. I know that to some, that would be an odd request - to refuse wanting to learn vast amounts of knowledge rather than wanting to understand anything and everything. I'd rather be able to live off of instinct than knowledge.

I begin to realize how many chickens, turkeys, cows, and pigs lose their lives to feed our country. I think about all of the grocery stores, fast-food chains, and restaurants there are in America. It's impossible to even imagine.

My order of ham and turkey meat is handed to me. And as I place them in my shopping cart, I look back at the packaged globs of protein behind the glass there. I simply forgot what you were.

I may never know what it is like to be an animal, but I do think that those behind the case would prefer their bodies be used and eaten than go to waste.

Okay, well i'm having issues zooming in. I have both a desktop and a laptop, when I'm on the desktop, i can normally zoom in closer to my deer with the scroller on the mouse. How would i do that on the laptop? I've tried everything haha.

warning : swearing, ranting

AGAHGRAW BAW WAH! <3 <3 <3

THIS

(will make you so happy.)

Dag's old story blogs will be updated over the next few days, and I thought to save confusion I'll simply write here what it is I am changing as a time-saver; I don't want the old blogs to be bumped.

There are a few things that need changing, but the most important is that I am removing the element in which the Season's refer to Dag as their Son. I am changing this because I feel it makes more sense for him to simply be a charge or theirs/a servant for their purpose.

[=10]

The streets were void of life save for the odd bat that tore silently past. Blinds and curtains were closed. Doors were locked, cars were parked. The world was still.

"He'll rot there."

A quiet, sharp laugh rang from her throat, ashen hair trembling as she shook her head. Talking to herself - how silly of her. But no matter.

"I'll keep you safe."

She patted her stomach, looking down at it for several seconds, stopping in the middle of the street to do so. Slowly, a wry smile flickered onto her sharp features.

"You're almost a curse."

Her shoes clicked again as she walked, eyes straight ahead of her.

"It's not your fault. We made you, after all."

The woman fell silent, and for a long time, she kept going. Eventually, there were no streets - only tree and grass and moss. She looked around, and to her left, a tree caught her eye.

It was not a remarkable tree. There was nothing striking about it at all - it was just a tree, green-leafed and full, brown like the rest of the trees, no marks on it, no scratches, no indents. By all means it should not have caught her eye at all under ordinary circumstances.

But these were not ordinary circumstances.

A slender hand tapped on the tree's thick trunk, and, leaning in close, her full lips parted and a quiet voice came from between. "Young tree, is anybody home?" She crooned at it, sing-song, eyelashes clasped together as she rested the side of her face against the rough bark.

'The keeper does not wish to see you.'

"Oh but it's important, young tree, I promise you." Her voice had lowered to a whisper.

'The keeper does not wish to see you.'

"Would he wish to see me upon gaining the knowledge that my child will no longer have a father, and once born, no mother?"

'The keeper is listening.'

A shaky, shuddering intake of breath. She was limp against the tree now, but her hands clutched at it, pleading, desperate all of a sudden.