Writing under the cut.
***
The sound of rain invaded the world around her with a constant "hush." The doe did not know what to think about it so she cried out against the noise, only to be hushed again. The threat of drowning those who did not respect the command was apparent with each passing droplet of water. The ground grew soggy, sucking at her hooves, tasting her before it decided if it were going to swallow her whole. The mud felt like the pond's bottom, threatening to pull her beneath and never release anything other than the last bubbles of air. The forest floor seemed less slippery as she moved through it, though still millions of puddles began to form. The children of the pond would take over the forest and the fear of the pond breaking its banks to come and collect its children would be apparent...
though this seemed to be a normal occurrence, known as the Spring Flood.
The Idol grew jealous of the sky, who could cry more tears than it. Little did the Idol know that it was he alone who could cry so constantly. It was he alone who could keep the forest's creatures alive by filling the bowl of the pond. The rain was normal, but the tears of the Idol could mingle with the magical soil of the forest to create an eternal basin of water capable of recycling the forest's magic. The rain? It was only a minion of the Idol's tears, being a minion to the Idol herself. Yet here the great stone goddess sat, trying her hardest to cry more than the sky.
The sky's waters cleansed the white marble statue atop the hill, washing away all of the kisses that had been placed upon it and by that it would wash the prayers in rivulets to the pond, collecting the offerings of others to recycle them in to the forest's eternal magic. For the mind was magic and the faith was magic and the forest grew strong through these things. The rain washed clean the statue of those who had caused the rain, cleansing the forest of all of the accumulated magic and allowing a moment's rest for those who did not wish to think. For the rain lulled most in to a comfortable and close-quartered nap in the great humming tree.
The Oak welcomed her children warmly as they sought shelter inside her great and open womb. The steadiness of her welcomes and farewells created a hum that never faded while one stayed close to it. She greets her children by name, you know, offering them shelter and escape from the downpour outside beneath both branch and trunk. Though her many children had tried, they could not match her in showing such compassion to the forest. She would always be the best at giving shelter from the elements.
On the hill the metal-and-brick spring burbled happily in the rain. Many animals still flocked there, and the magic was still so thick that the rain could never wash it all away to the pond. Instead, it fed the giant Birch around it. Surely you didn't think that they just grew that size, did you? The magic of the burbling fountain is washed by the rain to feed every large tree in the Birch. And gratefully they shelter this place for those who wish to come and visit it.
As the forest lay awash in magic and rain, the doe lay beneath her tree and watched the leaves of nearby plants bounce with each drop they released and each that struck them. No longer did she truly hear the forest saying "Hush" but she did hear the calm that invaded the forest itself, lulling her to sleep.
***
Thats was quite
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Yet another reason to love
.
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