"I can see them from here..yes, that's them! That's my herd.. and my father. I'd recognize his smell after all these years, no matter what.."
The two stood there for a while, watching the herd of shika. The shika grazed, having not noticed them standing nearby. Their coats were all the same variety- shedding their winter coats and gaining their tan color with spots for the summer. Kaoori stood, enthralled. She took a step closer.
"It would be wise if you did not move closer and make your presence known, Kaoori", Wesker stated quietly. She had told him of her past, knew of her father's forced abandonment of her.
"But my mother.. I don't see her.. she's not there!" Although Kaoori's parents had both abandoned her to the Endless Forest at an early age, she still had strong feelings for them, and it was upsetting to her to not see her mother as part of the herd. She bounded off in its direction, not hearing Wesker's yell of surprise.
There were many new faces in her herd. Many of the older ones noticed her, but did not recognize her, and shied away. One brave new face stepped up to touch noses with her, and this caused an alarm from one of the elders; a stomp on the forest floor.
A hearty snort was heard from nearby and Kaoori turned to face her father. He had not changed much, age had been kind to the stag. He had grown another tine, found a few more scars in the battles to keep his females. But time was creeping up to him.
"Father...", Kaoori whispered, turning to face him. They had not seen each other since she was a small fawn. Her emotions swirled in her heart; so many things she wished to say but nothing could come about.
----
Katsutoshi rememebered this one. She'd been smaller than the rest. He'd hoped after they'd abandoned her she wouldn't make it. She somehow had.

May 1st: Asheville NC: "Big Love Fest" - "The Big Crafty"

I will be there in a booth, selling art.

If you are in the area, come check it out!

-Emily

whatamIdoingwhatamIdoingwhatamIdoing-
this is all Mattie's fault, yeah I'm talking to you lady! ♥

placeholder for what will later be the throne of Tamaki Suoh.

update:

I've noticed I draw almost all my deer with both human and deer faces...
anyway, it means he can have either, but by default he has a deer.
Tried imitating the style, failed horribly :DD

I so badly wish it! My deer is plain. I`m still working on 'magicing' others, but getting better.

He did not know where he was running. He did not care. He couldn't see anyways; the fog blinded his eyes. Tears rolled down his face and he screamed, threw off his mask and left it lying in the pond. Although he couldn't see, he heard the Old Oak's hum, and kept running, and soon the sound faded away. He stopped running and screamed at the sky, his face soaked with tears. He fell to the ground, crying, staining his fur with wetness. The fog was too cloudy for anyone to see, but he did see the shadows of deer and fawns. And he saw one...of a doe...heading towards him.

"Voice?"

The doe didn't answer, and when she stepped out of the fog, she was gone. The stag started to cry again. Then he saw a human shadow, a girl, heading towards him. The girl came out of the fog. She had long, light brown hair with beautiful blue eyes, and a scar below her left eye. She was about 11 years old.

"Who are you?" the stag said.

The girl didn't say anything for a moment. The stag was about to start crying again when she said, "I am Ella." The stag watched Ella pull a knife out of her pocket. "I am your human." The stag almost snorted. "Every deer in the forest has a human side. Some deer have the same human. Every deer has their own mind, but they need their human to help control them. Their human controls them from a different world, and they may enter the forest to help their deer."

The stag started to cry again. "Lies! LIES!" He was standing up now, bucking at nothing. "Everyone has told me LIES! Every word they say to me is a lie! I am a lie!" He roared on top of his lungs, sending echos though out the forest. Dust blew into Ella's face as the stag kicked. "I know who you are, Peirce. I am your human. I have watched your every move. I have watched your birth. I have watched your mother suffering. I have watched-"
"WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE HER!?" The stag reared, tears were falling from his face like rain, filled with both hurt and rage. "WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP ME?

Just a quick question: how do you get those little youtube play buttons to show up? I've seen them mostly in biographies, and in other areas, but never understood how you get them to show up on the forum :C

((A little fawn against a Rock Hound!?))

tactful (t?kt' f?l) adjective
Possessing the ability to point out any or all negatives, you see in a person, in a positive way. If you are good at it, the person will believe, you are giving them a compliment and ask for more. Reading this proves that in relationships, you have learned to be tactful. Otherwise, you would be taking a very long dirt nap six-foot under. Mary Page aka theano

Art and drawing is a living paradox. When a person does art in its many forms they draw from their experiences, their moods, their needs, and give it meaning and perspective according to their view of the world. As you show it to other people a relationship forms because no one is exactly like you, and no one has had the same experiences as you, and no one has a iron clad grip on the truth. We all have desires, prejudices, and preferences.

The discussion begins. What you thought you presented is interpreted differently by another. If the choice of medium is open enough the interpretations cross our walls and boundaries. It is suppose to create a conflict. It is suppose to make each side uncomfortable. It is in our uncomfortableness we finally speak our truth. In communicating through what ever form there is we begin to see the world through other eyes. There is an infallible eternal truth woven through out our experiences and world, but as humans we can approach the infinite but we never get to the end of it. Art forms in picture, music and writing make us face the multiple realities that exist in our world. We develop compassion and tolerance. We see the other point of view. We never have to agree with it, but we respect it because it is their reality and base they work, play, and speak from.

We are all born, we all suffer in this life to some degree because of our folly, we will all die. In esoteric, eternal moments art lets us transcend our truth in a container by bursting the bubble we wrap it in, and spill it out among the others.

Birthday to me...


i had birthday yesterday but was in riding camp