"You have not known me, O traveler, but I pray you listen to the tales and misfortunes that befell a most curious old she-deer. Such a tale comes smooth and strong from oil-black lips, flicked away by tremendous ears. Once more however, ye olde stags with tines that thorn the heavens, and ye hinds with withered visage, come hither, and I pray you listen. This tale of a most curious old she-deer is not to be repeated, it will escape the lips of a nomad as the truth only once, and only the air shall retain its melody. The tale of a most curious old she-deer whom I never met, in which a thousand soft stares of pity could not arouse her from her dillusions. I watched her live, and I watched her die. Now; time rolls back and many suns fall, and we arrive nearly one year ago in The Endless Forest."
The First Encounter
"The first time I saw her, she never saw me. She was emersed in her activities; browsing the grass and lower branches with a syrupy-warm demeanor. Her belly was round with fawn, and now and again she lifted her head to chatter sweetly to the sleeping infant. I moved on, uninterested, clodding along to the fading maternal tune of her voice.
The evening drawled on uneventfully, and while I rested wearily in the reeds, a noise startled my rumination. From the cattails poked a most curious older hind, adorned with vivid plume and the same tasteful cheeriness. She drank deeply and noticed me not. She was not very keen on her surroundings, this one, humming with pleasure and having her fluff of a tail fly madly behind her. This old hind was more birdlike than I had given her credit; even the forest floor was draped with a magnificent train of feathers, long and glittery green.
This doe was unlike anything I had before seen, I observed, an odd feathered beauty adorned with the strangest scars on her rump and legs. Just before I could hold a parcel of speech, a koi splashed loudly and her head snapped up from the pond water, long ears moving rapidly for the source. She turned and she bolted away, round belly quivering with her gait. Despite being a nomad, I came across a revelation. This hind-hen, a chimera of species with her humanoid face and long lashes...she interested an old wanderer. It was then I knew that I would cease my travels for some time, and come to document her life."
The Second Encounter
"I came across the mysterious doe not a week later, romping with a great ugly red stag. It was safe to assume the pair did not see me, so I watched from the edges of my vision, divided only by a meadow from the two. It came to me soon that the round doe and the thick-horned red fellow were not romping; but rather fighting! I could not tell which hind and stag was on which side, but I watched the herd gather slowly and violently. A swift old doe, who looked eerily normal, a irksome young stag with a confident air, nose adorned with an 'X' shaped scar, a pure and pretty doe with a light pelt, and the rest fails my memory. So much fails this one's memory.
I wanted to intervene, to help the child of bird and deer, but she sassed them all smartly and stormed away, irked that her whelp kept her from the scuffle. I bothered not to glance back, but words of violence stung my ears as I crept after her.Fawn-killer!...It's a misunderstanding!...Stand down, Baal!...Ephra, are you hurt? Do you naught see thy violence, my species? I am shamed. I hurried on.
I found her in a thicket of blossoms, pacing and cursing and sniffling and growling. Never had I seen one's emotions so tangled, like the great mass of blue flowers she trampled. Calm thy mind doe...Such stress ought be worrisome to thy offspring!
As if on cue, she doubled over, and wailed miserably. This went on for a few drawling minutes, the whole time of which my cowardice prevented me from assisting. I swallowed up my bile and my lowly personality, and prepared to reveal myself when a great bustle stirred the foilage and I shrunk back. Henceforth leapt a monarch-stag, naught big, nor small, but determined. He came quickly to console her, and to fume and growl, but did more fuming and growling than consoling. He glanced off and bristled; angry at the forthcomers.
Suddenly the unexpected happened. As the doe's whimper's softened, the stag ran his nose to her belly brilliantly, and I was enlightened. This fiery young stag was the father. "
I like this. I like how you
I like how you write in the.. I don't know if I have the right words for this.. "old world" style.
Old English :3 And thank you!
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for some reason this
all fancy like.
Maybe it's the font...everybody's loving that font lol.
I still like reading your stuff. *reads over again*
I consider this my best work
I'm scared to continue it...because I fear it will not follow the pattern of how I like.
You read it twice? =0 MARRYME
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i was gonna ask if you were
I hope to ^^ But the rating
But the rating will spike in a few 'chapters', because some unpleasant events took place while our little doe was away.
Nothing horribly horribly bad, but I imagine a good deal of blood. (That's not to say it's all hers!)
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I'm probably one of the few
XD! I prefer story drama, not
I can't forget why I left, and because of that, Rowan isn't half as social as she used to be.
Drama hurts our poor hearts.
But anyways!
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