It took her a while to finally come out of the water, but even the Pond was too cold for her. Tropa came up from the depths, dripping with cold water and shaking uncontrolably. She shook off most of the water, although her long hair still remained soaked. She. Was. Miserable.

All those other deer? They had fur. They had warmth. Tropa? No, she only had some smooth, green, spotted skin. The only hair she had was on her head. In fact, she was one of the few deer with hair like that. But the other deer with head hair also had fur, which made her feel even more out of place. Her green and white skin quivered and tightened, revealing a rare few goosebumps.

It was winter. The snow had started to fall, the ground was becoming harder, the plants were quickly withering away. Well, some of them anyway. The Twin Gods had a liking for most of the plants, and always kept them alive no matter what. That didn't help much for Tropa. She couldn't even eat plants! Which was the root of her next problem.

It was bad enough that she was cold, but she was also starving. All the insects had gone for the snow. All the butterflies, dragonflies, any other insect she could come across. The butterflies were abundant on a regular day. Purple flowers were everywhere, all the butterflies were drawn to them. The dragonflies were always at the Pond in their regular spot. Although, dragonflies were saved for a rare occasion since there were a few deer who had something to say about eating them. That didn't agree with her at all, back in the old days, dragonflies were her favorite.

But no. The snow had fallen, the cold winds blew in, all the butterflies were gone. But not every insect disappeared. The flies at the Ruins were still buzzing about their business. Tropa didn't really like flies. They were small, and they didn't taste incredible. She would have to eat a lot to fill her stomach.

Tropa stood there in the water, her hooves freezing from the icy water. It had snowed long enough for the water to frost over. The lilypads had little ice formations on their edges. Even the lotus looked shiny. She stepped out onto dry land, shaking off the water, still shivering. She was cold, she was hungry, and she didn't see anyone to warm her up. Serpentine was off with some friends. She thought he needed a little space, she had been hanging around him a lot lately.

The frog doe sighed, wandering over to Serpentine's willow. She sat down, cuddling up as best she could to the trunk. Her stomach grumbled loudly, it felt like it was twisting around inside her. An icy wind blew, fluttering the willow's leaves and blustering Tropa once more. She started to sob a little, a few tears running down her pale face. The willow lowered her branches and blanketed the doe next to her, covering her in warming leaves. A soft sigh was heard, Tropa felt a leaf wiping away her tears.

Tropa smiled, snuggling closer to the willow. "Thank you..."

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"Father?"

A tan stag rose his head, peering at his son with pale, milky eyes.

"Where has Mother gone?" The peacock pelted teen tilted his head, letting one ear flop.

Vessel scribbled something into the ground.

Chanse looked, squinting, "She has... gone to meet some...... friends?"

Vessel nodded, smiling. Chanse was still beginning to read. Although he looked fairly older in his appearance, he was no younger than a young teen. He did learn how to read quite well already, but it still needed practice. For some reason his education in that area had been put off.

"When will she be back? Do you know?"

Again, Vessel wrote. I do not know, Chanse. It is best to wait, perhaps we can go for a walk to pass the time?

After a few minutes, Chanse smiled softly. "Of course!"

Vessel nodded once, lifting his small frame up. Chanse rose after him, his body being only a little smaller than his father's. His antlers were coming in beautifully, they were about halfway grown, and the ends were already starting to curve and round. His pelt was shiny and healthy, showing brilliant blues and greens, just like his mother's. Vessel was to the right of him, so he had to turn his head a bit before knowing exactly where he was. His right eye was partially blind, only telling when light was bright and when it was dark.

Chanse pawed over to the side of his father, and the two set off. For a long while, all was silent. The two stags just walked and enjoyed the beauty of the forest. Of course, they were exploring the Birch Forest, a much less explored area, with much more secrets to reveal.

But after a while, Chanse wondered. He wondered about something that was on his mind for a long time. He asked his mother once, when he was fairly young, but back then he wouldn't understand. He would probably understand now, although he wasn't sure how much his father would help. No harm in asking anyway.

"Father... Why won't you speak?..."

Vessel stopped, causing Chanse to stop. Vessel hoped his son would never ask him this when he was still so young. Everything about Vessel was so hard to explain, especially to someone who could barely read. He turned his blank eyes downward, his sight undetectable by the other. For all Chanse knew, he was looking right at him.

"Won't you tell me?..."

Vessel let out a quiet sigh, and shrugged, writing in a patch of dirt with no grass. You should ask Mother. She would be better at explaining it to you.

Chanse furrowed his brow at the sentence, "But..." His father gave him a stern, but slightly sorrowful look. His ears lowered slightly, and he looked down. "Yes, Father..."

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hmmm yeah... i dunno, this is just my page when i wanna dump something outta my head. ill most likely write something else when the urge comes, but this is about it for now. hope you enjoy my random crap XD