I fear I have been away longer than I usually would have. I wonder if I can place blame on the chill in the air that signals winter's arrival on my "hibernation" of sorts.
No sooner had I awakened, did I notice some familiar faces sitting amongst the poppies at the entrance of the Ruins. One of which was a well-known ghost in this Forest.

And now, it would seem most of the group recently gathered has scattered off somewhere.

And what is this I hear? Lady Kaoori is expecting a little one?
I do wonder what Darkweaver makes of the father being Wesker. There is more than a bit of bad blood between the two. I will admit my barely held tolerance towards the bone-pelted stag, for I do not understand what started this needless rivalry.
Call me hypocritical for my dislike if you will. I cannot help that the powers that be would have me befriend one before even knowing of the other.
Perhaps if I could learn the reason these quarrels started, I could somehow help cease them.
That little one should not have to be born into a world where one parent's friend is the other's bitter enemy.

But there my thoughts go as they often do. Traveling along a tangent.

I shall end this here for now.

I remain,

Bastilion

I haven't been on TEF in like two days and it was driving me crazy. I got on a good half hour ago and de stressed by running around the forest for a good ten minutes, ignoring other fawns and just flat out sprinting. I ended up at the old church where Fest had fun dancing with some pretty cool adult deer. I've found I'm spending more time in the more pine covered part of TEF just sitting quietly and enjoying the forest.

What's the moral of the story? WEll after a longe stressful week TEF was just what I needed.

The meaning of life.......Life is a very dark place of death, humility, sorrow, and greed...... But they only way to survive is..... To look toward the light.....

Driven by a force I have never seen they locked antlers. The fight lasted for hours. The looser is left bleeding. I see his breath in wisps of white against the chilled air. I cower in silence. He has seen me. I have no time to think. He is upon me. I call for mother but I know she will not come. I feel his blows and see a blur of legs as I am thrown onto the cold earth. Then I feel the ground fall away from beneath me. That does not make sense. I realize my leg is tangled in his antlers an I am hanging upside down. He jerks his great head and I fly through the air. I hear him calling into the night. I am his victory. He walks away. I am broken. Mother rushes in when she knows he is gone. She licks the blood and dirt from my fur but it is clear to us both that my leg is destroyed. Mother does not stay with me long after the rain starts to fall. She is young and can have another fawn next season. I drag myself to a sheltered area under a huge slab of stone and fall asleep. Morning brings pain. Many deer pass my hiding place but none see me. If they can smell wound on my mangled leg they ignore it. I drink from a puddle that formed over night. The pain is worse. When the sun sets my hunger is greater than the pain. I must move. I can’t use my leg correctly. It takes a long time to reach the grass. I fall and eat while lying down. It feels strange but I have no choice. I stagger back to my hiding place and fall asleep.

I don’t know how many days have passed. I have not been found by any deer but there is a rabbit grooming herself a few feet away. She joins me under my rock. I watch her. She ignores me. I wake up shivering and find that she has wedged herself between my back and the boulder behind me. I don’t mind. She is soft and warm. In the morning I watch her hop away. I am not a young fawn. I am almost fully grown. But I still wish mother would come back. I promise myself I will never leave my own fawn. Will I have my own fawn?