*read more*
Dawn does not creep up on the forest, it comes barreling in like an angry stag in rut. Often, nobody even noticed the night as it passed, only the little beginning of dusk and then the bright light of a new day. The light always seems a little different, and that's the only way one would know it was a new day. Well, it was now, and a certain doe needed to get up out of her wallow and go to get washed up like she always did.
An unceremonious groan burst out through the Birch's northern reach. The doe had slept in an uncomfortable position, and had to roll over to get up, causing the grasses to shake violently around her. Birds burst from their hiding places among the wheat with indignant squawking and tittering. Grumbled apologies seem to quell their fury as the doe prepares to shake off the bulk of the dust. A golden cloud seems to appear from her dull fur as a tremor wracks her body from shoulders to tail. Spasms wracked her as she coughed up that dust she had managed to breathe in. Note to self: Hold your breath when you shake off in the morning now.
Wait, why did she have to do that again? Why now?
Ears pressed to her skull, the doe bolted through the forest. If there was a more magnificently painful feeling to be felt, Poplar felt it at the moment she realized that she was still injured. That same moment the doe dove over the tall cliff that jutted out to shield the pond.
The water muffled all noise, taking all air along with it. Shoot, shoot, shoot! The thought almost formed words until the doe burst through the surface, floundering toward shore like a young fawn. Another shake later, and the doe finally did what she came to do: Look in the water. The sight made her sit down on her rear in astonishment.
Oh... Gods...
I thought that was a dream...
not yesterday... it had to have been yesterday...
I just...
I'm actually stuck here forever now.
Shivers wracked the doe's body as she heaved a sob. Tears and water drops mingled on her round cheeks, dripping into the shallows with unceremonious plopping sounds. Her sopping wet hair streamed water like the Idol's eyes as it weighed heavy over her neck and concealed her humanoid face. Iris-less eyes clamped shut as she tried to will the face to return to normal, but each time she opened them the humanoid face remained with that ugly tearful look to cry right back at her in a frame of matted, wet hair.
Soon the soaked doe could take no more staring at her new self. With a heave and a grunt she painfully rose to her tiny hooves and dragged herself on to the drier shore, collapsing in the sun with a thud. Like an unkempt shag rug the doe lay there, badly in need of a grooming now after that whole ordeal. Silently aside from the occasional heaving sigh or sob, Poplar stared off into nothingness.
If you are going to RP with me here please read the following. They are my rules.Please use proper spelling. Keep mistakes to a minimum and spell your words out. No "u" for you, etcetera.
Please use proper grammar.
Please use proper punctuation. I don't want super run-on sentences.
And please, PLEASE put in effort. It is not beyond your abilities to type at least 3 sentences in an organized RP like this.
If these rules are not followed, I WILL ignore your post. It is that simple. Sure, call me a rude snob. I've done it before and will do so again.
I apologize now for my rather
_____________________________________________________________________
It wasn't the sound of the gargantuan crash into the pond that drew the stag near, no, certainly not that. But it also wasn't the sobbing he heard through the forest, he doesn't care much for tears and certainly isn't much of a sympathizer to those he hardly knows. Regardless, something had drawn the stag near to the pond and when he caught sight of the familiar doe, he decided to make his way towards her rather than leave her to sob alone.
Swiftly he leaped over the mouth of the river, his maroon hooves hitting the ground with a ground shaking THUD. Bending his long neck down, the King stepped beside the doe so that his skull hover effortlessly adjacent her new humanoid face.
"My dear, please do tell. What causes you to weep so?" He lay down beside her, bits of long emerald fur from his neck and chest floating off in the air as he settled himself.
(No subject)
______________________
The small doe bit her lip, all noise ceased as she realized a great skull hovered right near her face. A sniffle later, she had risen and spun to face him. A shaking bow was hastily given, and the doe professed apologies.
"I... am sorry if I disturbed you! Ahmm..."
Fur as green as a pine but twice the vibrancy shone in her mirror-like eyes.
"...Sir."
A flicker of recognition crossed those iris-less eyes and the doe again sat, gingerly this time so as not to flick any water on the giant King of Dragons she now faced. Her long wet hair still made slapping sounds as it decided to stick to the front of her and cover her cheeks in its web. What was the beast she knew as "Sir" doing here? Curious of her? Well, as per last time, it wasn't much of a surprise. Poplar was not thinking well right now, though.
"Well, ahm... as you can see, I am in a little bit of a predicament here. You could say I'm ahm... mourning." The doe again bit her lip, though this time to stop it from quivering.
He released a small chuckle
"Mourning, hmm? Well that is a very reasonable cause for tears to be shed then. And I apologize for disregarding you during out last conversation. My name is Cadaver. You may call me that or any other nickname you fancy, I really do not mind." Quickly a pink tongue slithered from his open throat and licked over the teeth of his skull, then sunk back into its hole.
"And no, you did not disturb me. It was my own decision to come to you. Though I am merely a stranger, would you care to tell me what it is exactly that burdens you? Or if you need you may weep upon my shoulder, it is unhealthy to hold in sadness."
His low-toned words, no
"I mean no insult... but I think I would like to call you "Sir" instead. Calling you after a deceased seems disrespectful." She was blunt yet. "I am not free to come and go anymore. The Gods decided to take that away, as well as my face to remind me of it. It's because I am not the best being in the forest, I think. First, I am killed. Then I come back without my memory. Then my past comes back to haunt me while I am confused. I asked the Gods for memories and they only gave me some, painting the very one who keeps me from being close to my only friend in the forest in the most positive light. It is quite difficult to tell if the memories are real. And why the Gods would give me only those. Yet... ugh... I am relaying too much. You must feel a little creeped out by my regaling of my life's-story... I blather too much." Poplar's cheeks reddened beneath the fur that covered them and the hair that stuck to that. Yet the doe did not yet realize what a mess she was outside, and was overly-obsessed with the mess she was inside.
"Tsk tsk, such a young
"My name was given to me by the English speakers, if you wish to call me anything other than that name here-- I would prefer my birth given name as it has been passed down through my destiny. Ptoma. It also means cadaver but it is a title, for slaying my mother, father and unhatched siblings before I could be slain. It is a title of dignity, not disrespect. I have yet to know your name, doe." He was growing restless with the doe's exterior condition, seeing as she seemed a doe of a casual class and not this mangled mess she appeared as.
"Wait, before you continue-- let us get you cleaned up. You will feel a slight bit better after drying and untangling that new hair of yours. And perhaps some affection and cuddles, for my sake. Hmm? He offered, tilting his skull slightly, attempting to look a bit less frightening as he often appeared.
The doe could do naught but
"Well then, Ptoma, I'm Poplar. Though it is not something worth telling others you know, considering many know me and do find upset at my name, it being synonymous with Nikodim. It is... well... my name carries a death sentence for me if spoken to the wrong people. Just goes to show how my life has wound up." A babbled warning to the dragon. Her name was definitely not the most famous, but infamy it had.
Poplar could not help but giggle when the stag spoke of her rather ratty appearance. Her knee raised to push the hair out of her face. She looked rather like a waif. "Even as much as a breath on my side would be a treat. I would not mind those lovely invitations in the least, if it did not trouble you." A genuine, yet demure smile crept to her lips and pulled up their corners. She had not had anyone be so generous to her... well... ever, it seemed.
(XD Poplar gets soooo happy when she is groomed... watch out, Cadaver!)
I'll reply as soon as
The King was pleased to so
"Come then," He said warmly, "I know a wonderful shampoo recipe which should clean and untangle your hair instantly." A booming laugh escaped him then, realizing how silly that must have seemed to hear coming from a ferocious Dragon Lord. "After so many thousands of years of life, you pick up random bits of information."
(I figured because this was a moving scene, I should leave it short, that way you can reply and blah blah blah. Cadaver's cosmetics! Woo!)