I wrote a story with the rock hounds with Peirce, but Voice wants to kick some butt too.

As Voice took a glimpse at the lake's reflection, she saw that little silver circle in the sky. Some call it the "Moon". Voice galloped away from the pond and listened to the crickets singing. She could see some deer sleeping in soft patches of grass. Voice wished she could sleep right now. But she couldn't. Voice had a feeling there was trouble coming, and she couldn't sleep on a dark, dangerous, night.

Voice is a ghost. When she was alive she lived with her mother, father, and twin brother as a fawn. One day they found the father's dead body. When Voice grew up, she became more suspicious of her father's death. Then one day her brother killed her. It turned out her brother had killed her father.

Voice tried to search for what was causing her to get this feeling. The crickets' song was interrupted by a sound, like... something was hunting her. "Who's there?" she said, and when no one answered, she started assumed it was her imagination. "Run!" Suddenly, Voice felt something jump onto her back and biting deep into her throat. She screamed as she felt it being pulled off by another deer. Voice turned around and saw a deer with the real deer mask on and the peacock pelt, and he had really huge antlers. The stag was wrestling with a wolf skeleton, which had glowing yellow eyes and icky black stuff all over it. Suddenly she heard a crack, and a yellow crystal fell out of the skull's head. The crystal and the eyes went dim, and the bones scattered apart.

"What... was... th-that?" Voice whispered to the peacock stag. The stag faced her and said, "Rock Hound. A wolf skeleton. They are all after some bluebuck named Quad." he paused. "We better get out of here. Where there is one rock hound theres more." Voice nodded in agreement and they both galloped away.

Once they were sure they were far enough from the site, they searched for shelter.

Bound, grafted, wrapped, cocooned, ensnared
My wings were permanently folded, unable to spread
Well, I thought it was a permanent burden

Struggling, I try to free myself of these bonds
It was such a difficult, painful process
I cringed and cried through the agony

And that which held my wings broke and I was free
With them outstretched, I was stronger than ever
And I flew far away with my head raised high




---------------------------------------

If you are inspired by this poem, please draw what you see. I'm curious what you are inspired to draw.

there's a fizzing in my brain
that blocks my creativity
a mindless numbing pain
that draws from me my splendour

there's a sleeping man who waits
until the strike of midnight
we try to stay awake
in a ring of poisoned salt

in the witchery of nightfall
I seek a cure to end all ills
for all that came once you were mine
can never be ignored

as the shadows mark a path
through forest, river, mountain-top
the plague leaves dirty tracks
through the history of love

As soft as water, and as pretty as snow, glistening in the meadows as the moon light dances.

Not fast nor slow, and not quiet nor loud, a doe who's long fur danced with the wind trotted though the forest, as though if she went any faster the forest would fall apart. The voices of the forest souls calmed her, and the lovely trees and their leaves rattling with the wind were pretty. Not beautiful... pretty. Simple. Basic. Though wonderful. What this meant the doe didn't know. She suddenly felt something... though not as painful as anything she has ever encountered, more like... a sharp nail poking her. She ignored the pain and looked at the beauty of the forest, hoping it would shoo the pain away. But every second the pain got worse, and the doe could not enjoy the loveliness. She fell to the ground, screaming in pain, though the souls of the forest didn't answer her call. They didn't need to. The doe knew what was happening. The pain was unbearable. She thought she could not do it. She felt the little fawn trying to escape, trying to find the door to freedom. The doe needed to get her fawn out. She started pushing as horrible as it was. She screamed in pain, but she knew it would be over soon. The fawn's head popped out and he was gasping for air. The rest of the body slipped out before they knew it. A new fawn was born. He struggled to his hooves but fell, and, struggling again, got up. He walked over to his mother on wobbly legs, nearly stumbling at times. The doe nuzzled her child and watched as he sniffed a stick. "What do you have there?" she said softly. The fawn picked the stick up with his mouth and spit it out, then picked it up again. The fawn threw it and it scraped his mother's leg. Drops of blood tricked down her wound. "Ouch!" His mother yelled. She took a look at her wound then looked back to her child. He was smiling as though he wanted to hurt his mother. "You pierced me with a stick!" Then, she smiled.