April 28, 2011 - 1:41am — BluedeerLegend18
Yes. I decided to write a story. Enjoy!
-----------
"What?" The peacock stag stomped on the ground as the mini doe stepped back. "I have a son?"
"And he's been around for quite a while," The mini doe said. She dodged away from one of the stag's angry blows.
"What's....his name..." The stag grunted.
"I don't know, Zvi. All I know is that he has a peacock pelt, just like you. I think the meaning of his name is rock..."
"That's not enough!"
"Well, I know his pictogram." The mini doe said. She blinked as the stag stomped the ground, sending dust all over her face.
"Zvi-"
"WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE?"
The doe sighed. Using her hoof, she drew a rectangle leaning to the left, drew a squiggly line on the top, and then an X in the middle. The stag grunted. He stared at the picto for a moment, studying it as if he had to remember it. But the doe had to remember it.
"Millie," He ordered in a deep voice that made her shiver in fear, "Find that stag."
The doe nodded and zoomed away.
Your such a good writer!
this is interesting
Chapter 2 Meanwhile a
Meanwhile a peacock stag with huge antlers stared at his reflection at the pond. He saw little ripples in the water. Is it starting to rain, or...? He looked up to the sky. No, it was his tears.
He sighed and looked back at his reflection, throwing his mask off. It landed in the water, creating big ripples that disappeared eventually.
"I know you're under there," he muttered. "waiting for me..."
"What did you say?" The stag turned around. Another buck was staring at him, tilting his head in confusion. "Inow Yor Uther zere, wutig flor meeh." The stag replied. The young buck was staring at him as if he had just grown a third antler. "It's in another language. It means, "There are many fish under there"." The stag explained. Of course this was a lie. The stag did not know any other languages. The buck just nodded and said, "What language is it?" The stag didn't answer right away because it was a language he had completely made up. Then he said,"It's called Mebmorish." The stag just blurted out a random name.
"Seems like an interesting language. Where is this place, Mebmor?" The young buck said. The stag almost groaned. Just leave! Already! Don't you see I want to be alone?
"Mebmor is a country, far away from here. I was born there and so Mebmorish is my language." The stag explained. He was amusing himself with all these hilarious lies.
"You are a very interesting stag. I'm Awinita. What's yours?" Replied the buck. "I'm... Peirce."
"Is that Mebmorish?" "Um... yes, it is." Peirce couldn't help but giggle.
"What? What's so funny?" Awinita asked.
"Oh, nothing, just something about my fawnhood." Peirce lied.
"What happened?"
Peirce knew he couldn't make a fake story without laughing. "You know, I don't have that much time for stories. I might tell you sometime." He said.
Awinita nodded. "Ok. Bye!" He bowed and ran off, leaving Peirce in the pond. He was finally alone.
He looked in the pond... knowing the monster was waiting for him there....