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Awakeness welled up like blood from a wound. It took the beast in its flood, replacing the warm comfort of sleep with the stinging uncomfortable hum of forest magic flowing over, around, and through the warped form. A low rumble rushed through the beast's chest and neck, out a warped mouth and whistling through avian nostrils... simultaneous with the opening of a pair of semi-avian eyes. A mewl escaped the being's awkward mouth as she raised her blue-shimmer head to peer around.



Over the tops of the swaying grasses the being's head appeared, her antlers raising like two twisted wooden spears, then her blue feather-furred forehead and scalp rimmed by two yellow-filled ears, followed by a gray beak and a pair of foggy green eyes. A humanoid lower jaw was the last to be seen, golden plump lip shimmering as she licked it moist.



The difficulty standing became apparent as the doe did so, her body rocking from forth to back and forth again as she juggled herself to her feet... three of them. Her forth -the right forehoof- was a dull gray, streaked with blood and pus that had dribbled from a necrotic wound at her ankle. The swelling had migrated to the doe's knee, and the flesh looked angry in some spots, dead in others. One thing for sure, it wasn't going to last long.



A hobble-hopping walk later, the doe was at the top of the highest hill in the Birch. A spring gurgled happily, coming forth from a formed-metal spout which grew from a brick-and-mortar square pillar. The water splashed over a rock base, a bowl that never seemed to become full even though there was a visible bottom. 'The magic of the forest at work' seemed to be a proper explanation for this phenomenon. All the doe saw was a fountain of magic, clouds of it surrounding the little glade atop the hill where the fount rested.



The doe gathered up her courage to go through the mist, and found that it seemed cool on her skin... but as she drew closer to the fountain, it grew colder and colder. The Gods did not favor her, and seemed to be warning her away from the healing magic waters... with cold.

Her breath turned to steam, but her eyes still seemed trained on the healing waters. Frost formed on her fur as she reached the stone bowl and pedestal; she still went on. The water was freezing as she stretched her tensed and injured leg to put it underneath. The doe cried out, the distinct "MAIAO!" of a Peacock cutting the frozen air through a cloud of breath. The doe's eyes welled with tears as the magic stripped the dying flesh from her bones, leaving raw skin, then white bone, then nothing.

Shaking, Jupiter left the circle of magic, collapsing on the ground and falling in to deep sleep as she shivered in the sun.

Her right foreleg was gone, up to the knee.



****