Pictogram: Eweseye


They say that queens are born into misery, for the only way to create a queen is to kill another. There can only be one queen to a populous, after all. I... am that queen, or at least that is how I explain my current predicament...

being born without a mother.

The pearlescent creature, a walking cloud, freed herself from the tall grasses of the birch forest. She stumbled into the darkness of the pines and oaks as the last of her form appeared from behind the fiery carpet.

Of course, being born without a mother was difficult... the flock raised me well, though. They catered to my every need or want. I stayed loyal, kind... learned their language. I became one of them. I called them my family and they called me a lamb in their fold.

Shakily, on four tiny hooves, Dandelion surveyed this place she had literally stumbled upon. She was not large or foreboding. In all reality, she looked nothing like the queen her desperate mind tried to claim. She looked small and fearful, out of her element.

Quickly enough, I also began to look like one of them. My face showed hollows and my ears grew thin. My coat began to curl and my body took on the scent of them. It coated in a cottony soft down. I never grew much past the height I had as a child.

Shaking free any pollen or debris that the birch had given her, the creature stepped forward. She certainly wasn't a usual inhabitant of the Endless Forest. However, she didn't look that far off. With wool inexplicably shorn to her body, highlighting every muscle and curve, she appeared more deer than ewe... or simply deer-like enough to fit in.


My wool is longer now. It has been seven moons and eight suns I have spent here. I start to look like my namesake again, it seems. Puffing out everywhere. Mayhaps soon I will be a ball of it... wool. But for now... I am just a lamb again. Born without a mother.