Chapter Three – Resented and Rejected

Much to Jergen's protests, the old woman insisted that she be a hostess to him for the night. After washing the inch thick layers of filth off his body, the old woman had treated him to a lovely meal of rice pilaf and zucchini. During said meal, Jergens learned a bit more about the woman. Her name was Irene Whittington, and she was best known for her community service. “You ain’t the only down-and-out rascal livin’ round’ here boy. Nor are you the only who’ve I’ve invited for a night or three.” She had told him a bit more than once.

When the table had been cleared, Irene and Jergens slowly migrated over to the living room. “So…” Irene began as she plopped carelessly onto the couch. “I told ya what ya needed to know about me, now how about you?” Jergens put a hand to a forming beard on his chin, stroking it a little in thought. Could he really trust her? Hm, yes, he thought he might. He didn’t have much to lose anyway. “Where do I begin, lady?” he leaned forward a little on the couch, staring at the hardwood flooring. After a while, he began.

“Well… My parents kicked me out when I was twelve. Don’t bother asking me how old I am now. I can’t remember my birthday anymore, but by the year I can only tell that I’m either nineteen or twenty. Couldn’t tell ya which. Anyway, they kicked me out when they found that I’m a… um… well…” he faltered a bit, trying to find that right words. The old woman gave him a sharp, wise glance.

“Yer a queer, ain’t ya boy?”

Jergens was taken aback, “Well… yeah… Should I leave now?” he looked at her sadly. It had happened before; many nice families letting him stay, only to throw his ass right on out when they discovered that he was a homosexual.

The old woman crackled loudly at this, thinking of it as a great joke. “Leave?! Ho, boy, don’t you think yer special?

whine, whine, whine....



complain, complain, complain...



grumble, grumble, grumble....



Can't you all realize no one is going to be perfect and to your liking in the game. And why is that? BECAUSE THERE IS NO ONE WAY TO PLAY IT. -nosewipe-

<3

I'll just leave it at that to avoid getting tomatoes thrown at me.
-scuttlesoff-

It happened that, by a clear night, Chaman woke up and heard a voice who was calling him in the reeds: “Chaman, Chaman…” Rising on his trembling legs and winking his eyes, he left his mother’s side and got to the pond, taking care to not arouse the venerable does, the herd’s mothers, who were sleeping near the banks. And he pushed the tall shivering herbs with his muzzle, and sought who was speaking to him in such a stealth way. When he leant himself on the water, he got surprised to see the fields of the sky, and the hundred lamps of gods, seeming so near. “Chaman, Chaman…” He heard a second time, although that time the fawn was clearly convinced that the voice wasn’t coming from the place he was standing on, but from his very spirit. He almost shouted, believing he was articulating an answer, because although he was dead to humanity, he however had not forgot the language he was speaking a long time ago… But he contained himself and just glanced beside him. His muffled wail didn’t woke up to anybody, and didn’t even stop the frogs who were cawing under the big, tortuous roots of the willows.
“Here am I” thought the fawn, because his mother told him one day that the gods and the invisible beings of the Forest weren’t deaf to mute words. “Bend your legs Chaman, last born of the Farseeing Herd” answered imperiously the voice in a rustle of reeds. “Bend your legs and your neck, because you’re walking on a soil I made sacred.” Then the fawn bent on his front legs, fearful, and touched the earth with his forehead. When this was made, the voice said: “blissful be the one who humiliate himself in front of the gods, without having seen them.” And without moving or answering, Chaman waited the permission to rise, because the bank’s stones were hurting him cruelly. But the voice kept silent, and only the frogs were making heard their hoarse singing in the darkness.

okay i got some pictures of my stag: Raigho,
and i cant deside what pelt looks most like him,,
i prefer the sceleton pelt, the deer / sceleton mask and big white antlers
which is yours fav? ( u can also popose some outfits for raigho, if u think they'll look good on him ^^)

links to the pictures:
http://danny2610.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2a15cl - butterfly pelt.
http://danny2610.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2cj953 - sceleton pelt.
http://danny2610.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2nfn7q - white/black pelt.

thanks ^^

My quiet walk in the forest was interrupted by a magpie pelted mini deer and her normal sized brown spotted companion, neither was a threat to me of course though one can never be to careful in this place where some deer keep spells that will turn you into animals of all things or mess with your appearance, these spells hurt me terribly. I am not meant to shift and change like the other denizens of the forest, but I digress so back to the now. I have no interest in friends, but one day I will have to produce an heir and unfortunatly I need a female for me to be able to do that which is a most depressing state of affairs really. To have to rely on someone else, perhaps I will find a weak little doe to serve my needs...

The little mini deer was not a suitable candidate though. Not at all, prancing around the way she did. Far too hyperactive.

No.

I need a weakling.

Then the faun, the stupid little creature didn't get the hint when I bellowed at it to go away...you would think it would get the picture when I reared almost landing on the pathetic thing. It reared back, you would think its parents would have killed such a dumb creature off before it could run.

Morons.

When it didn't get the picture and bowed its stubby little head at me only the brown deer saved its life from being speared by my antlers which I've rubbed to points of course when i charged at it. I had no fight with the brown and when its mini companion joined in protecting the silly little creature I backed off. I will find a doe elsewhere...

a rainy day was born a deer call Abina not find it scared her parents, ran desperately through the forest, and there was nothing, started to take care of herself, looking for food and home. Roast the blindfolded for a week was dying but before he died I saw a deer, he began to interact with it, little by little, he has integrated groups where there was laughter and Carisio and where fed and cared for.
Abina began to grow and was not a baby but a strong deer in winter Abina came out on his own and saw the deer liked him and were always cherished the always followed her quietly but gradually let it, ah Abina it hurt a lot but every time I can do is to visit and cherish the anque not accept both. Abina alone, began a struggle in itself, ive never forget his friends who still visit them. Thanks did not die
>3
likes:
-remember that
-do not be angry with her
-to be stroked
-Accompanying
-who are kind

dislikes:
- que la molesten

true story:

Abina
>3
live in a home where she feels very comfortable educate loves to make art you would like to meet an artist of paintings and portraits where do you teach and learn wonderfulw . not afraid of anything and always aims to be successfulorks of art in the world.

(read more for details)

I was able to get Flame's set back, but I still need Ice's. Her set is:
Noh 'doe' antlers
Real deer mask
Real deer pelt(without the gold)
Her picto is like the smiley and she will be by the pond where you can get antlers.

Thanks