Introduction:
The sun shines down through the trees, dappling the ground just as pleasantly as any other day. As you wake, however you feel The Forest is more lonesome than usual, as though you have been disconnected from your fellows. A listen or short walk would confirm your isolation, but before this worries you too much you discover something far more troublesome. Something has been stolen from you, spirited away while you slept.

What will you do now?

Warning:
Some of Caravaggio's comments might be a bit PG, references to sex, or crude humor and language can be expected. Nothing graphic, of course. Feel free to use the above in your comments as well, I don't mind, just if you plan to be vulgar place a warning at the start of your comment. Thanks!

I've been feeling out of it and I would love to role play.
My current deer is Tazanna.
Human or deer it doesn't matter to me.
And if you wish to rp with a different character of mine just ask and I'll probally agree.
I would really appreciate it.

I miss having the ability to keep the devout pelt from 3.31, but I'm worried that if I uninstall 3.4 it will totally wipe out all my saved data. I don't want to try having two versions installed at once, because last time I did that I couldn't even get into the forest D: Help/Suggestions/Life-Altering Ideas?

HAH! Colors.

Contains blood and gore.

Do you find it easier to draw with a pencil or a tablet? Maybe even a mouse for some of you?

If you prefer pencil over graphic art, explain why?

you were queen of the country
and the duchess of dawn
took my hand in the garden
then left me all alone

spent all my waking moments
enraptured by you
spent all my lonely nights
fading to blue

you were a love that didn't last
another page in my book
another faded photograph
that I'd never look at

took a trip down to Wales
right to Bron-Yr-Aur
slaved my way back
with a broken-down car

you were a lover of Mozart
and a singer of songs
you gave meaning to torture
and glory to wrong

the children played in the river
and they ran between trees
came back well-exhausted
with badly-scraped knees

our wedding was quiet
and the church was run-down
you couldn't wear white
but you never did frown

you played on my weakness
as I wove through your life
and you hurt me so badly
when you thought you were right

I remember the day when
you broke me for good
and the look in your eyes as
you then understood

when I came back from work and
you weren't alone
the kids were at school and
I hadn't been home

you clutched at his shoulders
and your nails left their mark
he was wrapped 'round your finger
with your spear in his heart

then I tapped on the window
with a masquerade face
and of guilt, shame or sorrow
your eyes held no trace

I left you that evening
packed my bags and set out
back to Bron-Yr-Aur
to settle my doubts

the country was fresh and
the grass, it stayed green
but I'd never belong there
as you were its queen

I missed our children
but they'd long moved on
and every so often
the wind sang your song

I opened my book
and turned to page three
splashed tears on the pictures
of you kissing me

the queen of the country
you died on the first
the sixth decade of living
you'd done since your birth