There's so many places in EF, But does any of the land have a specific name? There's too much of it, and it's always trees and forest. Why not a mountain or a prairie with clear blue open skies? Tell me, where are these places?

Maybe it's impolite to ask, but... can somebody draw my deer?

As my treads slowed, I was very soon to notice that I was unfollowed, that none desired to tread behind me. So be it...Anzel thought, tongue lapping at the bitter puddle waters flowing into an indent in the earth.

None follow me. Not a single fae-stag, or stag, as so chosen by the bearing of antlers (and consequently, making them feel that they are strong and masculine; not realizing that we are genderless, and cannot have intercourse)...would ever walk behind me. Only would they follow me as entertainment. The ghost fae walks alone.

As the waters of the freshwater stream meet with ocean tides, so do I flow into troubling waters at the river delta. One might not clash only if one wanders a time upstream.

And so I shall, for only is my mind able to be spoken con* after departing that which troubles it.

I wonder if the kind stag-chosen remembers me, she speaks aloud, under her breath. She stares down at the pond at her face, flawed in only ways that the seer can ever see. If only time would speak...

* con = with (in spanish, pronounced "cone")

Its finallly time to show my secret fawns 8D they grow up today.Meet Kabu

And Tec

Im still looking for perfect sets plus you can have one of them x)

Windows open and close
As in maw, is held, a rose
Clever sparrows light the way
For Walker, Dreams, to step a-doze

Wintertime brings fae and stag
Oldentimers, brute and hag
Beautiful as antique snow
Close together, fur a-sag

Creatures native not to here
Blend-in, harmlessly as deer
Voice in whistle, opera, sing
Only for attentive hear

Past the wound, the scarren garden
Lady, please, I beg your pardon;
But a fawn can hold no memoir
Of the fae, in frost, to harden

Curious to mend and play
From forest fog to forest day
The few, the wise, the foxen stags
Carve the way; they clear the way

Some are wise and some are fools
Some lack morals; some have rules
Some hate change and some evolve
Some worship; others, ghouls

Threaden spools will run out soon
Unless respun with gentle tune
But if so snipped, a new knot may
Not thread the eye of silver rune

Sunbound lovers; sunless bucks;
Choice is given; no good lucks
For the freedom, we give sanity
And lie amongst the sightless ducks

Persistence clangs against her heart;
The loves that steal pulse, depart;
Realized and so aware
Acknowledge to the source of art

Eyes cold, dusken black; afar
To clash as salt and fresh at scar
Will force one over; other near
So is the way that atoms are

The squirrels were chuckin pine cones at me again today - those pests !! Why do they always do this to me ? And Im sure they were chirpin obsenities at me and laughing.

One day a girl was being
bothered by a Natt. The Natt was buzzing around her face
and it constantly laid apon her arm and hand. Her temper
grew, and she was tired of its vexatious huming.

But little did she know that the Natt was complementing
her.. It's humming was actually constant
praise of her beauty and kindness. He constantly landed on her becuase
he was envious of her smooth and delicate skin.

But the girl could not understand his praise
and constantly spatted at him. She roared that she would rid of
him. So, she thought of a plan to kill the Natt, but being that it was so
diminutive, it would be a crafty job. But her plan was simple,
bugs love light right? Well why not get a light and once he gets close to it
smack him against it.

She soon had gathered her material which was a light buld and a peice of paper
and she waited for the fly.


She watched the Natt closely as it came closer to the light.
The Natt was consumed by it's glow but it constatly said
that the light was not as beautiful as her, but he still came closer and closer.

His body was slammed against the bulb and he tumbled to the ground.
Then he slowly said to himself in all of lifes confusions why must beauty be the most
dangerous thing? And why must it disapear? The wonderous senation is gone from it,
and now all that is left is the crisp body of a hurt and torn body.

The End

+++++++++
Random,it has nothing to deal
with anything. Just a story that came to mind.
How the heck do you spell Natt...one "t" or two?
Paragharphs look colorful....

I REALLY dont have any use for Vanity...I'm thinking about getting rid of her...Should I?

Also entitled - ' Mushrooms Big Ideas ' or ' Big ideas about mushrooms and other stuff '

I have added some new ideas [in orange].

I hope I havent stollen too many good ideas from you other deer. I try to be a bit original but prehaps some of these or something like them have come up before and I dont know what the forest powers that be have planned for the forests future. But anyway I though up some ideas since I've been playing that I will share here. If nothing else I hope that you find these ides amusing. Feel free to comment or add to these.

Ideas for Forest features / places

A place of danger / forbiden zone - An area where deer fear to tread and thus no one ever goes there. Prehaps a demon tree all crooked and twisted set within its own area that incures some kind of deer ' wrath ' is you get to close to it - loss of powers, movement or some other undesirable lasting effects that you realy wouldnt want. It is there but those who know stay well away from it. Although prehaps just its presance being there or simple curiosity could entice one unwittinly approach it and then .. BAM !! OUCH !!.. The mood and atmosphere around such a place could be erie, spooky. Bad spirits are to to roam there and young fawns have nightmares about it. Of course I heard of somethin like this writen deep within forest folklaw - deermuda ??

[=orange] Further Forest Hazards and Dangers -

i dont think ill turn this into something huge. i just needed to write. i have no inspiration for Fluttering Feathers as of yet. too many personal things going on :<

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The sun shone through a huge canopy of orange and gold. The leaves of the Eternal Autumn forest in their natural colors glimmered with fresh dew, and a little frost. Natural Autumn was right around the corner, leaving the warm Summer days behind. Few fallen leaves littered the forest floor, making an odd contrast. The reds and golds of the trees firmly digressed from the green undergrowth of the ground.

A familiar stag wondered through this forest. His blue and green pelt stood out from the dull, warm colors of the leaves. His giant red antlers awkwardly menuevered around the lower branches. He furrowed his bushy eyebrows at the familiar scents and sights. This was his home. The home of Hobward.

Of course, he never wanted anyone to call him that. Not after the tragic mishaps of his past. His one taste of true love, crashed to the ground in a bloody feast, and the massacre that happened shortly after. A massacre so taboo to his kind, he had to leave alltogether. It pained him so, to leave his family, his friends.

But of course, he could not have memory alone. An eternal crown of hatred was forever planted in his skull. Giant, towering red antlers, never to be shed, and constantly straining his neck. The thorns sticking out snagged onto low branches, often leaving him stuck for a few minutes. He thoroughly hated his antlers, but they were his curse, and his punishment.