April 13, 2009
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The dappled stag sat atop the hill, almost motionless. Leaves fell around him. Squirrels scurried past his feet. A few birds chirped and quarreled and hopped among the branches of his antlers. A faint breeze blew the grass in gentle waves.

But he didn’t move.



After the incident at the pond, the fawn had run into the Birch Forest, the place he was most fond of. He had hid among the tall grass. He had leaned against a tree. And he had cried. Some deer came to comfort him at first, but he would always run from them.

He would always run from them.

Eventually, deer began to leave the strange little fawn alone. And that was perfectly fine, the fawn did not want to see their pitiful faces. He had always been stubborn, and he was determined to hold to his promise. His promise to never see another deer again.



Sometimes a particular cold and rainy night would come, and the fawn would spend it huddling beneath the sparse branches of the birch trees. Little birds, with their feathers all fluffed up to shelter themselves from the cold wind, would come and try to take shelter beside him. They were his only company. He loved the birds.

Sometimes it would snow, and once again he would huddle with only the trees as protection. And once again he would share what little warmth he had with the birds.

He hated Winter. He hated cold.

He hated water. And he hated the pond.



He couldn’t even bear to look at the pond. It hurt him to be near it. It’s water had held him back from the bird. Other deer loved the pond. They danced there.

When deer approached him, all he could see and hear were splashes and hooves and dancing. And laughing. All around him. Surrounding him. They wanted to dance on the little dead bird.



And so he ran.

He grew into a big strong stag. But still he ran.

He loved fawns, for they represented that time in his life when all was innocent and new. Before he realized that deer could kill and laugh it off.

One day he sheltered a little fawn named Ialu. For a month, the fawn called him “Big Brother.” So they became brothers. But as the fawn grew into a stag like him… they grew apart. Chenaniah just couldn’t deal with adult deer.



So he ran.

For two years he had run and hid. And look what it had done to him.



Chenaniah remained, frozen on the hill. He wasn’t sure what to think now. He had always been stubborn, and wanted to remain true to his promise to stay away from other deer. But he also longed to break such an idiotic promise.

Now, after two years of running and hiding and dwelling on that one dead and drowned and trampled little bird, could he do it?

Could he really break that promise?



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CAN HE DO IT? TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING STORY. |D

Actually… yeah, that’s all I kinda’ sorta’ had planned. :/ The end?

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Also, sorry I keep bumping this. I keep finding errors in it. >.<