he would like to try out his newly grown antler's so if any one ethier in the rut or not would like to spare with him he'll be more then willing to this is what he look's like (his the ocra pelted one the doe next to him is his sister Leea)

his picto look's like this

Sorry I had to get off so suddenly after we started playing! I have a doctor's appointment and I'm not sure when I'll be back on, but I will be on later.
I only pawed the ground and bowed because I thought my mom just wanted me to help her with something, but then she told me about my appointment. Thanks for playing with Aleit today though! 8D

Tera,

Signed on as Seshamsut and helped you get your set back-- said I'd brb-- I accidently uninstalled TEF when I logged out. XD So I'm waiting for a bit for my mom to use "System Restore" on my computer when she gets back. What an idiot. XDDD

Sorry EEEPP.
And are you not able to keep your sets anymore is that it?

Name: Coraa
Gender: Doe
Age: 2 years
Species: White Tail deer
Status: Content

Coraa is a semi-realistic deer, and I will play her most often when the Herd assembles, or possibly during the next Rut.

She is friendly, but quiet and possibly a little reluctant to join in very energetic games. She has no extreme fear of stags but gravitates towards other does by instinct.

The half muffled, clanking sound of metal cutting into soil and stone scratches at the air near a great cathedral, within a cemetery barely a dozen meters away. Under a crescent moon, the grave keeper digs with the precision of an old artist. He was a tall specimen, a hair taller than seven feet despite his clear age. He was thin, almost to the point of looking completely malnourished, though his arms still retained the muscle of a fighter, and his eyes carried the spirit to match. His long, unkept black hair hung partially over his face, halfway hiding his red eyes and heavily scarred face, and draped carelessly over his back. He wears a suit that seems to once have been formal, though now exists in patchwork and rips, and stains from the dirt. The former feeling his suit tries to give off is further marred by the heavy metal-soled boots he wore. Below his chin and down his neck is evidence of former attempts on his life, scars that could only have come from knifepoint. Holstered in a pocket, he carries a standard pistol.

He fills the shovel with one last scoop of soil and flings it out of the six foot deep pit, then places it on the grassy earth still unturned beside him. With some difficulty only brought on by age, he pulls himself out, and sits down on the grass. With one muddied arm, he wipes the sweat off his brow and flashes a satisfied grin. "Well Mr. Smith, you'll sleep well in your grave tomorrow." he rasps, voice evidencing some damage. The wind blows his hair from his face, carrying dry brown leaves off the branches of the nearby trees. The sound of footsteps soon catches his attention. No ghost would make such a sound... but another person would. He comes to a stand, grits his teeth and unholsters his pistol, aiming toward the sound. "Who's over there? Speak up before I need to dig a second hole!" he demands, straining to see in the dark.

(ooc: Yes I'll be using humandeer Darkweaver for this one. XD)

Although born by the Ruins, the Pond would be his death bed.
There was a certain charm about the place that none could describe. No one would dare claim the pond as their own as it belonged to all the forest's children. The willows stood like sentinels and provided the deer shade and a place to play whereas the rich grass fed growing fawns and hungry deer. It was the center of forest life and all the creatures respected the enchanted water. Rut battles were waged away from the ripping water and the idol that fed it with tears. Even the mysterious stone bridge was kept free from clutter and mischievous deer. The pond was a god in its own right and was treated as such.
The willows sighed in the breeze, waving their drooping branches like banners. One of the smaller trees stood near the shallows of the pond, overlooking a fawn that stood in a bright patch of light. His face was turned towards the sun and eyes shut with ears twitching every so often. He seemed to be taking in the world that he was unfamiliar with. There was still so much to learn and soon he would be grown, sporting antlers and a deeper bellow. Did he feel rushed at all? No, not really. The fawn was calm, unusual for his age, and felt he would learn if he had patience. His opened his eyes--pale blue-grey--and blinked against the bright light. His tawny coat with white ink spots and pale belly suggested he was just another child of the forest. But as he was learning, looks could be deceiving and even deer with the darkest of pelts and scariest of masks could be as sweet as summer berries. He was an unusual forest child and hadn't a clue.

So since about Friday or so I've been trying to remember to grab some screenshots of the fun I've been having so far! Unfortunately, I forget a lot because I'm distracted by emote mashing or pretty forest noises or otherwise. STILL! I think I've done a decent job. And now, to narrate!


After marvelous misadventures in the ways of spell casting, Bell had Quamar to thank in returning to her original pelt. The stunted antlers, the old gold fur and the crack whore voice of a mask were the ingredients fit for a grand romp around the ruins. And, nothing was complete without dancing! Bell found herself playing conductor, but with so many new faces her usually bubbly self seemed overloaded. No worries, she was soon joined atop her pedestal for some help from the recently introduced!


Sometime later, days infact, Bell found herself in the midst of a rut-riddled forest (and I definitely have a short story for that, later). Seeking feminine comforts, she opted for a more rambunctious set in the hopes of attracting some stud or another, or maybe she just wanted to show off. Whatever the case, Bell was quickly immersed in her fellow peacock-flaunting fellows. They all quickly learned that the bright turquoise and gem greens looked best when paired with the stark contrast of the Devout pelt, and spell casting ensued!


Lately, Bell had seldom found herself in the comfort of old friends but on one such night, this wouldn't be the case. The original doe, if you will, was quickly discovered by a very enthusiastic Bell. She and 21 (Ephra now?! I'm behind) attracted some fawns, but Bell had to retire early.

uhh i just noticed no one knows anything about me...so yea i fixed that...you still will not know much lol because i'm mean like that..

The Rut I mean.
He was extremely interested in meeting some new deer and perhaps even getting the chance to father a fawn or two~ but at this time it just seems like he's wasting his time.
He's been sparring with all he's got ((since he didn't have time to get in epic-awesome shape this year like some other Stags)), but it never seems to be enough and so he chickens out and backs off.

Maybe I'll keep him in there for the chance that a doe might be interested in him, but I don't want him to get his hopes up and then be dropped. Eh, maybe he can just be in there to help the other stags seem more impressive and strong to the ladies. Eo has found this whole Rut event to be a lot harder than it looks. Perhaps a friend can cheer this poor boy up...?

Any opinions?