Writing

quadraptor's picture

Healing Touch (new character story)

I don't have a name for him yet, but this is a test story of a new character

Color used is #B1FB17

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The stag was helplessly at Iugulare's mercy. He tried to fight her alone, but the stoat was too quick for him, and even so, his antlers would not damage her viral body. He wore himself out trying to track her, and when he began to stumble, she took the opportunity to strike. The stoat bounded onto him, her paws gripping his shoulders, and at once she sunk her fangs into the side of his neck. He cried out, trying to shake her off, but nothing seemed to work. The stag lost his footing and toppled to the ground, shivering and struggling as the infection began to envelop him.

Pleased, the stoat released her grip. The damage had been done, it was only a matter of time before he would become another minion. She wasted no more time with him, and ran off.

He cried out for help. He was starting to lose his focus, the black infection was seeping down his body. The wound on his neck was not very deep, but it was enough for the virus to enter into his bloodstream. He was hallucinating, his legs going into shock, his breaths short and labored.

In the corner of his eye, he saw something approach. A snake had found him, he could see the black and yellow on it's body, though it was a blur to him. He closed his eyes, already expecting death to come.

The snake flicked his tongue, tasting the infection on him. "Rest, friend. Rest...", he spoke quietly, and quickly slithered onto the stag. He lay directly onto the infection on the stag, and spoke into his ear, [=#B1FB17]"You have been badly hurt. There is something causing these attacks, I have not yet to find it, but I have helped those I have found. Some...some were too late...but you are not.
Cypher's picture

Decypher - Ashes (Mini Episode)


Ashes
(Mini Episode)
Follow the Season
Mature - May contain brief vulgar language, gruesome scenes, and sexual themes
Doctor Who Christmas Special Semi-Spoilers


(Theme Song)

FaunGrae's picture

Funeral and Baby's Breath -RP for all who wish to pay respects-

(Since it does not look good for me being able to be in-forest long enough to do a funeral properly for Bawewin, I will hold an RP right here. Anyone who wants to pay respects may post, but please be respectful enough to use proper spelling, punctuation, capitalization and grammar.)

(Thank you for the image, LanceHill)
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theano's picture

Ode to My "I Do Not Care" followed by the lyrics of an old song I know

I do not care for people who law more than love
I do not care for people that cannot accept others as they are
I do not care for people who will not listen to a different voice who is speaking reasonably and explaining
I do not care for people who do not look at all the possibilities and wonder at the diversity that life brings us
I do not care for people who cannot balance who point out everything that is wrong but can never point out everything that is right
I do not care for people who cannot have compassion for the least of these and cannot see that in any moment of time due to circumstances beyond ones control that you too can become them
I will never understand why they make it their priority to make everyone else as miserable as they are

(this is not about anyone here you all are lovely even when you are being brutally honest LOL)
An old song

I cast all my cares on you
I lay all of my burdens down at your feet
And anytime that I don’t know what else to do
I will cast all my cares upon you
GuardianGhost's picture

[At the mirror]

Comments an criticisms are welcome.
I apologize in andavantage for possible grammatical mistakes.
Warning for gruesome scenes and language.
First writing completely dedicated to my character Ariel.

Emmett's picture

[ -s t r e n g t h will l i s t e n- ]



The dazed fawn rubbed at his damp eyes, was it really a dream? It felt much too real to be just a dream. He felt like he was still falling, despite being flat on his back. Emmett narrowed his eyes as he began to adjust to the bright sun shining through the tree tops, watching birds hopped from branch to branch singing their songs while the curious red fawn stared down at him.

"Ya alright there?" He asked.
OkamiLugia's picture

II.

Resource for Artists: Ways to Reference

As an artist, chances are you’ve had the desire to draw something at some point but not known how. It’s at times like this that referencing can be a very powerful tool, vastly improving our abilities and content. However referencing incorrectly can also be a very quick way to get you into trouble.

[ I'll see you again ] vent

personal.
Seed's picture

Seed's Poetry Corner: The Forest's Ars Poetica

There are times when being a poet in the forest is hard. For those times, I return to this. "Ars Poetica" is a slightly loaded phrase; I don't think I'm the equal of Horace, but... The Art of Poetry in the forest is complicated.


The Forest's Ars Poetica

From the words that cycle
like air in a closed room
inside my head, a question:
Where to keep them?
The forest, birthing stories
like it births sunny days,
but leaving those doves no place to land.

Keep the words efforted, push
my tines against the rocks, pushing
my words into them, if they're strong
enough that I don't break against the stones?
Leave little pale scratches, lasting.

Keep the words grounded, solid
in this world with the brush
of my hooves dancing
into the cool, wet earth,
letting me see them-- so concrete --
but cleaned away by the next hoofsteps?
Leave words for all of us to walk.

Keep the words brilliant as heaven, bright
in painstakingly-made berry ink. Blue as water's
jewels, sweet as honey, written on
the pale underside of leaves,
and eventually turning to rot?

Keep the words forceful, the rush
of sense and feeling, the pain
driving from my antlers into the flesh
of trees (my secret mark, outside of territory)
where the bark will scab it over one day,
but at least they will bear my scars?
Or do I

Let the words go, out
out, into the air
where perhaps the trees
shall cradle them,
the birds preserve them in their wingbeats
The tumbling leaves carry them,
the earth drink them to bring forth flowers,
But I will never know?


((For more poetry written by Seed, however he writes them, check out Seed's Poetry Corner))
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