June 9, 2010 - 4:14am — thecapturedplanet
The sun is brilliant today.
But he does not stray from the long grass, not until his stomach cries out for food, and he is forced, with uneasy steps, out into the wood of oak and pine, staying close as he can to the birch all the same.
Hyper alert, all day long, he has not seen Brown-Stag Virgil, or Storm-Deer Ephire.
Motions are hurried, swallowing tender leaves nearly whole.
A head raises, other deer smells through the scent of roses, he is gone long before they reach his once-spot.
His belly is not full, but it is not crying so loudly anymore.
Slowly, ever alert, he makes his way through the long grasses on frail legs, settling down amongst th gold-grass and sweet-moss.
He is lonely as he curls up.
For all day long he has not even scented Brown-Stag Virgil or Storm-Deer Ephire...
I love how he double-names
Poor little guy. >: