`entries (entry #22 added)

Will contain acts of violence,
graphic descriptions of dying and
a little of everything else.

C A N C E R

New Entry

It's been a while since you've been here, but you never really did leave. You're not even sure yourself how you managed to stay hidden. Maybe you crawled under the roots of some tree and just stayed there. Whatever it was, it seems the forest doesn't really remember you all that well.

You're getting used to this strange body by now, understanding how it works. The voice that rings inside your head and tugs you around has been quiet for some time. You wonder where it is since it's really the only thing that talks to you. You inhale the scent of the earth and keep your head low as you lurk in the shadows. It's twilight here, a perfect shroud for a monster like yourself.

Six eyes glance around, scanning. You stop to stare at some young ones from a distance before you carry on. The urge that was suppressed for so long in your absence is starting to gnaw at you and make your jittery. Your tail doesn't seem to stop twitching. You're anxious and you want to get rid of this anxiety. Or is it pent up energy? It's hard to tell the difference.

The voice inside whispers to you that it's dark, no one will notice a dead body unless they were standing right in front of it. Your head turns to the side as if to look away from the owner of the voice. They get a little upset, urging you on and whispering that it would all be worth it. You'd get attention and maybe praise.

Praise. That's all you've ever wanted since you were born. You wanted to be told you did something good. You wanted to be accepted. You wanted a friend.

Now the sound of getting praise makes your ears snap back. You're thinking about it, something you never really did before. Would it really be worth it?

For now, you just decide to lurk around in the shadows and think more on it. You're careful to avoid everyone or thing as you travel, you're not ready to draw attention to yourself until it's time to present the forest with yet another tragedy.

Past Entries

It's disgusting.

Eyes peel back to the blindness that momentarily strikes you, enough to make you cringe. Blink furiously. Dispel the light, become confused. Blink again, look in another direction. You lick your lips, feeling the blood and embryonic fluid flood your sensory net. Gag and sputter, cough. Lay still, take a moment to figure out where you are.

You feel tight, not tight as a rope or noose, but just tight that you feel like you can't move. That every movement you might make will make every joint pop out of socket. Every bone to fracture. Just tight in a sense that you feel like you're dying. Dying so harshly that it hurts.

Breathe, take in a deep breath. You fill your lungs and sputter out more fluids, cough harshly. Feel your esophagus constrict, feeling parched. You haven't ate yet. Looking around, you feel a curiosity yet strange lamenting. There's no one around, no one you can familiarize yourself with. No scent of mother nor father. No scent of your twin that you were so furiously intertwined with.

Blink again, look over the left, eyes hurt from the sun. Close them. Exhale with a prattling breath. Inhale again, sharply. Pang of pain in your chest. Was there a fractured rib? It sure hurts like hell to breathe altogether. There's something relatively close to your face. Move your head, just an inch. Just a little more. Oh.

There's more than one, the grass is pretty short here in the poor shade, your skin feels like it's frying. The sun is relentless, gnawing away at your fluids you were born with, the continuous flow of mucus as you struggle to breathe. There's a mushroom just a breath away, and it looks odd. It looks like it could explode, it's so heavy with water.

Lips licked again. Parched throat demands water, groan. Groan again into a choking sob. Crying. Crying hard because the pain in your throat and chest is unbearable, like you ran into a tree. Lucky to be alive, but not so lucky to be alone.

You still can't move, even if you picture yourself doing it. Lament, mourn, cry. Cry harder because moving a leg hurts more than anything else on your body. Well, not as much, but just all three combined scares you. Scares the fact that you're alone and you're hungry and you can't find a single scent or soul around.

Blink bleary eyes, blink away tears, sniffle, crying is muffled for now with whimpers.

You move your leg again, confident you can move. It doesn't work, your confidence is gone, just like the thought of you being alone gnaws at your brain. Chews at the brain stem and disconnects you from reality. Reality is overrated. Just as you close your eyes, you shiver and quickly pull your legs inward.

The fluid is cold against the hot, blazing sun and the partial cold. It felt so hot before, but now you feel chilled to the bone. You feel like you can scream, but you just sputter a coughing fit instead. Inhale, exhale. Breathe. Blink, whimper again. Move slightly, look around and crane your neck. You crane it so slightly that even that hurts your throat. Stifle a whimper, stifle a sob. Open mouth, lips close.

The mushroom tastes awful. But there's moisture trapped underneath. Start to suckle. Suckle the water, whimper again, feel the pain start to ebb away. But still, your brain is being torn apart by the simple emotion you don't even know what to call. But it's known by so many as fear.

Fear is just waiting for you to close your eyes, to which you do, still suckling the mushroom for all the moisture it has, trembling and failing to feel the warmth of the sun upon your skin. Gasp. Whimper and let go of the mushroom. Curl up, curl into yourself. The pain of your ribs expanding and contracting makes your breaths come out as whistles.

You stare. Stare out at the empty place before you. The grass is too short to hide you, but you don't seem to care. You don't want to hide, you want to be found. Maybe, maybe just closing your eyes for a few minutes would make the pain and loneliness go away. Yeah. Maybe when they open you'll see your mother smiling, or your father giving out a loud chuff. Or maybe you'll still be intertwined with your twin.

Maybe.

It's molten hot.

Your eyes refuse to peel open to feel the intense heat that's enveloping your tiny, fragile body. But once you manage to get one eye cracked, there's an interesting looking thing over you. Before you know it, you cringe as a snout presses forward, sniffing you. You don't know what you smell like, you're only breathing through your mouth. Nose plugged with God-knows-what, and you don't really want to know what it is either.

But the heat of the other is just enough to make your lids drop again. Comfortable, safe, at ease. You don't know what it's like to feel another creature's warmth, and yet, here it is. You smack your lips. You lift as much of your head as you can to smell the other, but instead, you just snort, much like a greedy piglet.

Lowering your head again, you just breathe. The breaths coming out like reed whistles and you just let out a very faint and very unnoticeable whimper. But the other is curious of you, it moves closer, stands over you, and then sits.

Without realizing it, you're being a greedy kitten with a saucer of warm milk, curling up more into the other, absorbing all the heat you can get. There's no emotion on the other, but that doesn't bother you. It showed enough to care that you're here to sit with you. And that was enough to make you safely close your eyes.

But before you do, you let out a weak little bleat and take another look at the strange thing. It's fur looked like a volcanic wasteland, a underbelly of ashen fur with burned trees, releasing spores of sparks to the bloody-mixed-milk sky. There's a tousle of black hair hiding its eyes, but you can feel the heat of the curious look it gives you.

Breathe; inhale, exhale. Curl up, sniffle. The heat just melts away your anguish and fear of being alone, and just lulls you into sleep. You're still rather hungry, but this one didn't look like it carried the food you needed. Instead, you just close your weak eyes again after one, last little look. Well, maybe just staring for a few seconds longer before those eyes drop shut.

Glued shut, the heat is such a comfort, and here, you feel better, it's like the heat was mending the fractured rib, but that was only a mask. A mask that would be lost once the heat source left.

You exhale once again, and you finally fall asleep. For however long your body wants you to, the hunger pains will wake you soon.

~~~

After a few hours, just a few, your eyes burn as they're stuck together from dried mucus. You force them open, even if it hurts. The warmth is gone, the strange creature nowhere in sight. Strange, you've already forgotten what they looked like, or smelled.

You let out a little concerned bleat, just wondering what happened. But your throat feels raw once again, and you're back to suckling that disgusting mushroom closest to you. You're starving, your body lets you know by constricting and making you whine before crying.

It's odd, you think your mind is playing tricks, but you can see so many others out there. Why don't they see you, a bloodied little disgusting thing suckling away for dear life on a mushroom? Well, they don't really seem to have caught the stench of blood or bodily fluids just yet, it appears. Even though they run right past you.

~~~

Just as you thought no-one would come and find you, someone does. You blink furiously against the light as it rebounds off a pelt of pure snow. You're not sure what's going on before there's a lowered head of pure bone and empty sockets, sniffing at you like the one prior to this one did. You cringe slightly, but they offer no threat. You aren't sure what to do, your neck is so weak you can only crane it slightly to at least attempt to smell back.

You notice that the socket's aren't empty abysses, but there's a small sky-blue planet in each of them. The fur is soft, white as snow stained with ink at the tips, like an ancient Chinese ink brush. There's a pair of paws instead of what's on your feet, the claws look sharp, but they're not being used to make you more disgusting that you already are. And the crown it wore that was twisted in an odd way, but showed pride and secrecy altogether.

Exhale in a whistle. Let out a small bleat. A few of them. And the strange thing is sitting next to you, their body warm and not as molten hot as the last one, but warm enough. You let your head swivel back to the most comfortable position you can manage and just lay there, returning to your fevered suckling of the mushroom.

It's too bad no one has actual food to sedate that hunger rising in your belly, enough to make you curl inward again and whine.

But then the world leaves your feet, and you curl your legs inward, a gasp of heavy breath as your ribs feel like they're going to burst. You're taken elsewhere and you're not sure where, but there's this color that's everywhere. Two of them. Gently set down, you curl up again, moving makes your body tremble. But there's nothing you can do about that.

You blink your bleary eyes and watch as that strange face eats or at least 'pretends' to eat those strange round objects that are suspended above the ground. You turn your head and notice there's a few on the ground, simply knocked off from passing through. It's a battle of the tongue as you try to gather at least one into your mouth, sucking it enough to make it burst with flavor.

You weren't expecting that tangy taste to flood your taste-buds and you almost spit it out. But it's making the pain in your belly go away, albeit slowly. This will have to do for now.

After eating enough to kill you, your lips part. You sigh. And finally your eyes do close and you're able to sleep without the pain of your belly, but your rib still hurts. You can't voice this, being too weak.

At least you're in a better spot with the lush leaves to prove as a nest of sorts. An upgrade from that horrid flat painful spot with the mushrooms.

Everything tastes like blood.

You sputter shortly after waking, coughing up blood and the berries you ate just the other day. You flutter your eyelids rapidly, squint hard at what's in front of you. You don't remember much of what happened other than you're now in the bowl of salad. The berries so ripe and the colors so vivid it burns your retina like you were staring at the sun for too long.

Another cough and you curl up tightly, a snake in a nest, just tense and afraid, ready to strike. You're more stronger now to move your head without too much pain, but it lingers there, waiting to squeeze your neck and make you choke. Your eyes are able to adjust much better then the previous day, but you don't know how long you were out. A few days? You must have really been tired to be out that long.

But you blink your eyes and look at your body. There's blood and bodily fluids dried and caked onto your fur. Your bones stick out in painfully awkward ways from lack of proper nutrition and care. You feel like you're a porcelain doll, made of brittle glass and if mishandled, will shatter to a million pieces. So many pieces that it would take eternity to put you back together.

You squint at your legs, they look oddly out of shape, but you never noticed. They didn't look right, they didn't look like legs should look like. But you didn't know what legs should look like, everyone had different kinds of legs. You've seen two. Hooves and paws. And a combination of both. Now that you think about it, you don't want to know what you look like.

Being well hidden in this bowl of luscious fruit, you wonder if anyone noticed you asleep here. Or did they assume you were dead from the smell of blood and crusted fluids? Let out a ragged breath. Another one. Breath in harshly, whine.

You need food, you need warmth. And most of all, you need love. A lot of love.

This time, you remain quiet. Seal your lips with wax, waiting for someone to break the seal and allow you to speak. You don't want to speak so they can find you, you want to speak so you can be heard. It's two completely different things.

For now, you just close your eyes and sleep. It's all you can do.

There's a strange prickling sensation.

It tugs on your fur and makes you feel like something's there, watching you. Your eyes peel back in a wide manner, almost as if you're seeing a ghost and are terrified of it. But slowly, surely, your eyes wander as the monochromatic world around you comes into view, your eyes a bit more clear.

There you see it, something... Strange, a deep shade of gray as it's hidden by the vegetation here. Curious, you eye it for a moment. Deep in thought. Thinking. Thinking. Finally, you decide.

...

Everything uneasy is now easy.

You're not sure what you just found, but you feel like you're meant to have it. Like it found you and wanted you to find it. You didn't see it there before, but maybe it was because you were so weak and your eyes weren't fully focused.

Funny, it looks so weird, yet you feel like you can sympathize with the strange thing. You had only enough energy to lift your head and collect it, your lethargic frame now more weaker that you spent all your energy on it. Now it's safe, nestled near your belly as you feel it there.

You hope no one will try to take it away. No one would take something from a sick and weak little ugly thing, so mangled and malnourished, with a pair of bruised or broken ribs. That would be just mean. But the world is cruel and it's bound to happen.

But the funny thing is, if it is taken, it will always find its way back to you. One way or another.

Falling back asleep from using up all your energy, you could have sworn you felt the strange oval shaped thing twist slightly, grimacing and making an inaudible sound before it was quiet and relaxed again.

It's been a few days.

A few harsh thunderstorms rolled past, although you don't understand how it could storm in this place. But then you realize, that the storms were all in your head. You exhale deeply, expel the poison from your lungs and sniffle. Your eyes are crusted shut, you've been sleeping for a long time. Lift a wrist and rub at your eyes.

It hurts to do so, feeling like they're stuck together with tape or glue. You have no idea what those are. But you just continue to rub and whimper before the seals are broken. Crack your eyes, slowly. The sun isn't too bright here, you're nestled in the grasses and the sun is blotched out by the leaves above from the massive poplar trees.

Your frame is much thinner, haven't not being fed the right foods, even though those who tried to bring your health within reason, have failed. But you had company, gentle company. Which was more than enough to have you look around tiredly.

There's no one here, nothing here either but you and your weird egg. You shift slightly, just enough to push the egg under your belly so you're lying on it. It feels a little weird, but at least no one would find it. It's your little secret and you're not going to tell anyone. Not that you can since all you can do is bleat and moan and groan. Pathetic, really.

You're just scared. It's normal to feel scared, to be scared and act scared. But the fear just makes you repeat a phrase in your mind, one spoken by so many when they're at the end of their thread.

I don't want to die.

But you're tired. You've used too much energy. You feel your lids close like lids on a jar, soon sealed close to keep the goodies inside fresh. And then you're asleep. It's not a surprise you sleep longer than most, or that you can fall asleep quicker than average.

You're just barley hanging on by a thread. But you're strung up by many threads by the egg you possess. But you doubt it can really do anything. Your first little treasure and object of fascination and your last. You just hope you'll live long enough to have many, many more interesting fascinations.

For now you sleep.

Death watches hungrily.

Death is very painful, grinding its teeth into your soul, as your liver shuts down, a puddle of urine and blood mixed into it seeps from behind, but you can't feel it. You've lost function in your bladder. Your breaths prattle as you struggle to keep your soul from spilling out past your lips. You're so heavily emaciated that it's no wonder you're dying.

Your eyes are open wide, panic. Panic grips every fiber of your being as you wheeze your last breaths of your soul away to the dew covered berries, which suck it up and become larger.

The small thing nestled under your nonexistent belly peeks out, falls over onto its side. You're not paying attention to it, you're too busy dying to notice that its features are twisting, grimacing. You have but one sentence running through your mind at this time.

I don't want to die!

A lung deflates and shuts down, you're breathing on one lung and it's a struggle as you wheeze louder, your body rocking slightly with the effort to stay alive. A kidney shuts down as does the other shortly after. You're scared. So very scared.

Although you can't speak, the small egg that is currently grimacing and whimpering can hear you loud and clear. Blood spills from it's tight eyelids and it soon snaps open, lips peeled back with a full set of teeth as it lets out a blood curdling scream that echoes though the forest to rest on willing ears.

You can hear it, ripping through your brain, but you can't flinch, you can't even let out a sound as you wheeze away the last minutes of your life. It's still screaming, and it echoes through the hollow skull of your mind. You can't see it, but you can feel it writhing against your flesh, slightly rocking back and fourth as it screams with never ending breath.

Your heart feels like it's going to explode, it's on fire and hammering against your bruised ribs, making the pain just as more unbearable.

I don't want to die!
I don't want to die!
I DON'T WANT TO DIE!
I DON'T WANT TO DIE!

But you're almost dead. Just a few more minutes to hours now, and death will heave a worthy pile of bones to gnaw on.

You're dead.

Dead as after a devastating hurricane or tsunami. Everything flung apart, torn to shreds, dismembered and gorged. Your soul is what took the most damage. But before your last breath, that egg let out a final cry before it was suddenly silent. The contorted face of agony and anguish was soon asleep and peaceful.

You're not here anymore, your eyes glazed over like wax-paper, you can't see anything. Because you're dead.

But your hooves of your soul dig into the millions of faces under them, the ground is black and they're wailing. Your ears press back, afraid as you try to find somewhere that isn't contorted, moaning faces. You're confused. Where are you? Is this hell? But... Why hell? You were innocent! Why were you sent here?

Was it because of the egg? Was it because you harbored the emotion of greed? Yes, that had to be it. The greed you had for keeping that little treasure hidden, that you wouldn't let anyone see it, let alone take it. Greed's a powerful emotion.

There are strange creatures about, and you're sure you soiled yourself in this nightmare realm. They're distorted and ugly, all screaming for a sacrifice. But they don't seem too interested in you. You're just a scrawny ugly thing and you clearly aren't a trophy kill. Which is good, because that means you won't die a second time.

Is there such a thing as second death? You think so.

Suddenly there's a clamoring whisper and the world goes silent, save for the surface of this hell which moans constantly. There's a few odd figures in front of you, eying you and giving you odd looks with odd faces. You're not sure what they want with you, but you're positive it's not good.

Do you want to make a deal?

The voices are garbled, twisted and ugly. Your ears swivel back and press against your skull. You don't like the way it sounds, like nails on a chalkboard or knife on a cheese grater. It's horrible and it echoes in your mind.

A deal?

Yes.

A deal, it seemed, the devil wanted to make a deal. Of course, you're too young and stupid not to talk to strangers, and you're curious. Your ears swivel forward, making the abominations of hell chuckle softly and smirk with their ugly lips and teeth. Then the smirk and chuckle are gone, they're dead serious now, all eyes on you.

Do you want to live?

What kind of question was that? Yes! Yes you want to live!

Do you want to see your family again?

Family? What family? Surely your mother, father and twin could care less where you were. After all, you were left behind like an abandoned broken toy in the woods, never to be found but by the ants and occasional slug.

No.

Good answer.

And your mouth is suddenly opened and one of the beings purges black sludge and toxic tar into your being, making you choke and overflow, the same liquid dribbling out of your nose like milk when you laugh too hard. You can't breathe, you can't do anything.

And you die again.

But before you die, you catch a glimpse of that odd egg just nearby.

You're alive.

Well. Somewhat. You pull yourself up from the ground, a little higher than you've ever been. And your eyes peel back to see nothing but red. You can't see color anymore. You're not even sure what color this is that you're seeing. All you know is that it's just one shade of this one color. You were colorblind before, but now you're just... Blind to every color but this one.

You blink all six eyes. Yes, six. You're baffled by how you got six. You can't remember anything that happened before this, but your stomach tightens as does the bones that are now outside instead of inside your body. Your heave up some black liquid tar and sputter, cough with new lungs.

Everything hurts. Everything hurts and it feels all too familiar. You're scared of this body, your legs aren't even connected to you! But you can move just fine, which is strange. Your mouth seems stuck together, you can't open it. Try as you might, but it hurts to try. Maybe one day you'll rip it open somehow.

Your body feels surprisingly light, but your body is a reminder of what happened in your past life. And along those thick red veins that spider web through your chest cavity through the thin film of skin you wear, you can see it beat. Your heart that died is alive.

Just what are you going to do now? You died, what was the point of existing here if it was just bad memories and lots of selfish beings? Save for the few that actually came along, but they've been wiped from your memory. All the good memories have been purged out of you with that black tar that vanishes.

For now, you decide to just rest, so you lay where you stand and begin to doze off in the sunlight.

You stand still, your head hung low.

You have a feeling, a feeling that had been gnawing at you since you left this place for a few weeks, only to return and feel the dread and disappointment of this new home. Your eyes flick upward just as a figure rushes past, not even paying attention to you. In a hurry, it seemed to get to where it needed to go. To be with someone.

You wish you could be with someone. That feeling is so strong in your being that your heart aches with both sadness and anger. Why were you cursed to be ignored, even from birth? All memory of those who came to your aid were gone. The demons took out everything, even your confidence. You were certain that you could never be happy, never have friends. Never be accepted.

Your eyes drift downward at the dirt, your limbs are tense, slightly shaking. Fatigue has its claws around your shoulders, making them sag. Heavy. You feel so heavy, like the burdens of life was slamming its thousands of fists upon you. Instead, you decide to drag those hooves. The strange feeling of knowing what's under your hooves, yet you aren't connected to them.

Bellows here and there, creatures laughing, rolling around. Decorating each other with inks and mud. And you're here, walking away from happiness. Happiness that would be taboo to you, so you locked it away in a Pandora's box. But you have the key and the box. But you just simply refuse to open it.

If you weren't given happiness right away as an infant, then it was seared into your mind that you weren't allowed to have it.

Your eyes close, lower yourself into the patch of warm grass. Sigh heavily, sigh so heavily it sounds like a frustrated growl. Lower your head, rest it upon the ground. The grass is soft here, but a little prickly since it's always in the sunlight. The faint smell of flowers is nearby, but you don't really much care for them.

Why should you? No one cared enough for you. Now you're this ugly, God-awful looking thing. No wonder no one would come up to you, offer a hello. It'd be hard to say hello back, you don't know how to speak, don't know what others are saying. Everything is new to you. Yet everything is familiar.

For now, you'll gaze at the blood soaked world with jealous, red eyes. Silently cursing them that it wasn't fair.

You forgot about this place. Or wished you did.

But the alluring scents and warmth of the grass draw you back with gentle fingers, combing through your matted fur. You haven't been sleeping well since you thought you were sleeping. Fatigue was like a snake slowed down by the cold. It just didn't appeal to you to dive into the pond at the very last moment and end this misery.

The egg dangles just by your left ear, quiet and much like an egg with no strange features. The blood soaked world is making white look pink and black like blood. Your gaze stiffens as you look up to see a couple of fawns, your body tense.

They seem to be having fun. Why weren't you allowed to? Why were you suddenly thrust into the world of responsibility and then died because of it? You're so angry you don't realize your hooves are digging into the dirt.

And without notice, your mind tells your body to spring forward, and it does, like an angry hornet after an intruder. Your hooves arc upwards and down with a sickening crunch and snap as the fawn's back leg is suddenly bent like a willow's branch. The scream and squeal of pure agony runs on deaf ears as your ears are pulled so far back, it hurts.

Of course there are some sounds around you that you can hear, like the beating heart pounding against the ribcage of the fawn you just attacked. The second fawn's eyes are so wide it's almost as if they would explode of their skull. Lunging for the downed fawn, you slash its pelt with dangerous hooves, spilling liquid rubies onto the ground and painting the soil with its lifeblood.

It darts away when it can and screams for help, the second fawn rams itself into your flank, making you miss your next strike. Your head snaps back, eyes wide and wild as they acquire their new target. Whirling around with such inhuman speed, you draw your hooves across its face and down its chest, making it bleat out in surprise and it collapses. Blood bubbles out of its open wound and paints the floor a lovely shade of crimson.

Your eyes dart around wildly as you lower your head, smelling along the sands the path to the first fawn you attacked, which isn't very far, limping with exhaustion. You're faster than a speeding bullet in human terms and you slam full force into the fawn, making it topple forward and squeal in sheer terror. Your jaw opens wide enough to stretch your jaw open and bellow out a frightening sound, hooves up and down they fall.

The guillotine has severed the head of the fawn, making the body make jerking movements as it tries to live without the use of its head. The head rolls slightly away from the body, looking more like it was ripped off instead of cut.

Flank heaving, front legs smeared in blood as is your face, you lower down to nudge the body, making sure it was dead-dead. Like you were once. Satisfied, you let out a rumbling growl. Who was going to see this? Would they know who did it? Yes, they would. And for sure they would come thundering, bellowing with antlers held high and ready to trample you to dust.

But for now, you'll scoop up the headless fawn, kick its head towards a hill and watch as it rolls down into the stream and floats. The dead fawn is nestled in your antlers, turning those violets ruby red with blood. The tines are pierced through the body to ensure it stays on. Hopefully now they'll realize what they've done, what they failed to do for him in his time of need.

Flanks still heaving, you turn on your hoof and make your way towards the God's Playground, tuck yourself away under the stone slab, and tremble as the effects of your high drop to normal. You have no thoughts running through your skull as you sit there, the blood of the headless fawn running down your face and touching your skeletal teeth.

The forest is a bitter and cold place. even now it's cold. You shiver like there's something in your skin and it's in a spot where you just can't reach. It's irritating and you just want to scream. But no matter what you do, you can't. Inhale, feel the air turn to ice in your lungs.

Tremble and try to bury yourself more into the foliage here. It's no use, you're just not made to stand the cold. It's just too cold here and you don't even know what true cold is. Winter? There's no such thing here. The snow vanishes the moment it gets too close to the ground. You're frustrated, it's like another special thing is just stolen from you.

For now you'll just try to stay warm, cover yourself with more foliage and hope to the otherworldly beings that you'll be OK.

It's still cold. You weren't aware that others were there to visit you, it was as if you were thrust back into the spiritual world with all the demons. Things are hazy around your vision, like you're trying to see through wax paper. Twitch, your ear twitches slightly before you lower your head down to your elbows. Eyes drop shut, heavy like anvils and you're still trembling from the cold.

Why is it so cold? Why couldn't you feel anyone that was there with you? Was there even anyone there with you? Your mind is warping around in and out of itself, questions get jumbled and now it's just static. Nothing but static.

Now you're just zoning out. There's nothing here for you and now you think this place is absolute hell.

It's been a while. Inhale, exhale. Blink blink blink. You hardly remember where you are before you realize what's around you. Ah, yes. This place. You wonder if this is your own personal hell. You're awake now, covered in roots because you decided to suddenly have a nap. The crimson egg tied to your antler shimmers dully, collected with dust. You jerk yourself out from the hands of the roots and leap out.

You're free. For now. You stretch and look around. No one's around. Typical. You're a plague, ready to kill without a thought.

But wait.

What's that?

There's... A tug? But where is it coming from? You look around, perplexed before it's suddenly painful. You move in the direction to lessen the pain, and sure enough, there's a strange sight. But it's gone.

A voice. Inside your head, sweet and melancholic, threatening. But then it's quiet. It doesn't seem to want to be known just yet. You're still confused. You'll wander around for now.

Again your body is covered in roots. Squirm, wiggle, grunt and groan with bared teeth before breaking free. Pushing yourself out and hissing with the effort. Free, the branches snap and crack as you pull yourself out from the nest you had made. The dirt is soft and moist. Must have still passed fluids while you slept.

Getting up on shaky legs, you're malnourished. Snort softly, some dirt lodged inside the crevasse of your skull. Maybe you'd best refill on food and water.

And kill something along the way as some invisible force is pulling you towards some unsuspecting, sleeping fawn or... Something. Whatever it was. You didn't care, you just felt absent from your body, like you were watching yourself move forward where this force was pulling you.

You've returned, your body feels weak. You move yourself towards a scattered field of stones, your eyes narrowed under the skull as they stare into the distance.

There's a familiar scent there, and you're sure you remember it well. It's the one that tried to kill you the first time, the one that broke every bone on your body and yet, you're here. Watching that individual.

But they're in the company of many others. So instead, you'll watch, calculating, judging from afar. You have no idea some special event is happening, but frankly, you don't really care.

---

The events of the day are boring, you met a fawn and you were tempted to push it off the rock and see what would happen, but you decided against it. You're oddly afraid of fawns, maybe because of the trauma that followed shortly after killing two. Ah yes, two fawns fell to your hooves and you didn't bat an eye.

The fawn leaves shortly afterwords and you're left sitting on the stone, staring at this odd group of creatures of all sizes, but they're all red. Different shades of red.

You're so deep in thought that you hardly noticed something sneak up beside you. You spring to your hooves, tense and ready to attack out of self defense before you realize who it was. Was this the one from before?

When it was cold? You can't remember, but those antlers look familiar. You tilt your head as they greet you before you sit back down again, slowly. Ready to spring when you can.

Today you're stalking a fawn. Not because you want to, but because the second voice in your head commands you to. You keep your distance, watch as it stumbles. The voice is urging you to keep on its trail, follow it everywhere.

Then kill it.

---

You find some and you lose track of some, but you still find one, regardless where you go. This place is bountiful and the voice inside your head tells you that you're nothing than a coward. A coward to attack something that can't fight back, but then again, it brings back memories of what you failed to have in your one and half months of life.

It commands you to keep stalking.

---

Perfect.

The fawns come up to you only because you look "cool" or "interesting". It was a perfect opportunity to sway them to like you. The voice tells you in sweet whispers of milk and honey in your ear what to do. You obey and soon they're curious about you, looking you over.

Your muscles tremble as they come closer to sniff at your fur, and that's when you strike. The first fawn fled as fast as it could, too scared to scream out for help. The second fawn fell victim to your attack, but you missed. The fawn tumbled away and let out a small startled squeak as it ran off.

Your ears fall flat as you stand there, confused as the voice scolds you. You can feel it tugging you to follow them. You hesitate before there's a hard jerk and you have to follow otherwise it hurts.

---

Instead of stalking more fawns, you just decide enough is enough and hunker down to sleep. Even though you just woke up, you're already tired. Must be from lack of activity. You'll sleep by the Twin Hill and enjoy some solitude in this calming weather.

---

The nagging, awful voice in your skull is making a racket, yelling at you to get up. You peel back your eyes and you can't see anything. Everything's a dull pink. There's fog in the forest now and you shiver, it's a little cold as well.

A hoof in front of the other as you stalk through the fog, the voice saying it was a perfect opportunity to stalk more fawns. Maybe kill one since the fog was so thick. And you'd do just that.

It doesn't take long for a fawn to spot you and trot up to you, you watch it as it displays curiosity and comes even closer to sniff you. Your body is trembling, the voice is screaming for you to kill it. You move swiftly, but the fawn is faster as it squeals and darts off. Your knees are shaking as he stare after the fawn. That was a bust, and you're angry at yourself for being unable to at least knock it down.

You'll continue stalking.

But just as you tip-toe past a sleeping adult, there's a body nestled in there. A newborn fawn. You keep moving, stunned before you stop and stare after it. Was that what you looked like as a newborn? Is that what would have happened if you had a parent?

There's so many confusing words, and the voice in your head is telling you stay and watch them. To see what happens, to fuel your rage. Maybe it'll help you do a proper job next time.

And so you sit, legs tucked firmly as he watch that little body nestled into the big one.

Your world is so heavy upon your shoulders, a bolder pressing against your back as the air is being forced out of your lungs. Your body sinks to the ground, the blood running from your nose and over your teeth, making your knees shake as you struggle to stay standing.

It's fruitless as your head suddenly dips dangerously and you stumble. Forcing yourself to sit down, your head instantly connects to the ground. Your eyes flutter, the world bloody red in your vision before your eyes slowly close.

You're so lightheaded that you just can't stay awake. You're lethargic like a cat on catnip and you just can't hold on to reality. Your body sags as you pass out, the blood flowing out of your nose, over your teeth and to the forest floor.

You figured you're in a good spot, a spot you favor and figure is safe, for now.

---

You're groggy as you open your eyes, unsure what just happened, how you got here and why there's so much blood. It's dried up and crusted by now, and you move your elbow to rub at the crusted blood. The voice in your head is surprisingly quiet. Which worries you. If only a little, but then again, you can hear everything again and it's nice.

You move to stand, only to stumble and decide to just sit for a moment so you can see in a straight line instead of a wobbling sea of red. The attempt to get rid of the blood only smeared it around your skeletal face and you sniffle.

Which hurts and you wince, so you just leave it alone. Maybe cleaning it off would be a good idea.

Maybe.

Quite frankly, you're too nervous to go anywhere. Having someone harass you the day before made you a little nervous that everyone's going to treat you that way. Even if you've had a good two or three good experiences where you were welcomed and even enjoyed. You wondered where that one went, the pretty one that snuggled up to you, leaving you stunned and confused.

But for now, you mark your tree. You'll take it easy, lurk around and see if there's anyone nearby to chance a drink at the pond or creek.

It's been... A while.

Your body is stiff, your bones creaking with each effort as you walk. Your hooves drag across the ground as your pelt is stained pink from the dried gore that once coated your body. The sun baked it and it stained, soon the sun bleached it.

Your red orbs follow across the ground as you slowly tilt your head from side to side as you look at your surroundings. You almost forgot you were here. You must have been so scared the past few months that you somehow disappeared.

Your ear flicks as the voice in your head, making you pause in mid step. You stand for what seems like an eternity, your sides rising and falling slowly as you seem numb to the core.

After the silence droned on, you slowly started your pace again, but you keep an eye out for any signs of potential threats. The red egg hanging from your tines sways as you walk, grooves being dug into the ground as you drag your legs.

You're back from your journey, where ever you vanished off to.

You move with painful, agonizing steps, your body can't bear to move any more than it has to. But you just... You can't stop. The voice inside your mind is telling you to keep moving to stay awake. Even if it kills you.

Your eyes roll back into your head as the pain blinds you, making your breaths come out in pained wheezing and puffs of hot steam as your legs tremble. Your ears are flopped, unable to spare any energy to even keep them perked and listening for potential danger.

You remember how you got this way, a playful fawn that didn't know any better thought it would be hilarious and fun to spell everyone with a spell that could be used to kill you. And kill you for good. Even the behelit wouldn't be able to save you when that time would come. Or maybe it would, it was hard to know for sure the powers the small crimson egg held as it swung by your tines with each labored step.

You pause a moment, your back legs trembling, but your front legs tremble worse. Your sides heave and your body just burns from the hot, searing pain of holy light. A demon (even though you aren't really a demon, per-say) like you was not immune to the effects it had on you. Your head lowers slightly as you feel puss and other nasty fluids run down your front and/or back legs from a popped blister from moving.

You wince, shown by the way your eyes squint and the steam passing the holes for lips. The reeking smell of burned or seared flesh is heavy on your body, slightly masked by the smell of infection. You know for sure, and by the voice within your mind, that you'd get very, very ill after this.

With one place in mind, you hope you'll make it there before you kiss the dirt. And you start to move, your destination is the pond.

*no user made fawns were harmed in the making of these entries unless specified
*this is an INTERACTION blog, meaning you are welcome to interact here if you cannot in forest

March 15, 2017 - 10:09am — niriya

-Potters happily around- Yos

—

Thank you, Tuo and Kohva!

March 16, 2017 - 4:19am — thiswilldestroyyou

The Endless Forest

-Potters happily around- Yos

yas aaaa. UPDATE: entry #22

tossing a track in here!!

track!