Writing

as little Serena raised from the the comfort of her mothers warmth and the hollow where she was born, she wandered around but suddenly from the peaceful forest, there was a crack!

CRACK!
and again,
CRACK! as she turned to look round a fur-less being grabbed her! She struggled and let out a huge cry. her mother came as swift as the wind to rescue her,with a strong kick the fur-less being dropped Serena on the ground and ran.
"I told you not to wander,Serena!" as her mother scolded her but there was a sign of relief on her face. they went back to the hollow but from that day on her mother kept a close eye on her, a very close eye.

THE END.

well thats all I could think of!! please tell me it's a good story!

someone please tell me how good it is!

Make a never ending story!

EX

Person 1:
The black cat ran from the dog, but...

Person 2:
It got stuck in a tree. So...

Person 3:
An elderly woman was really nice and shooed the dog away. Then she saved the cat. Meanwhile...

And it goes on and on and on. I found this on another site. So I will start.

There was a house

Just a... Idon'tknwowhat x3

Little one, why are you cying?
Can you not wait until you've grown?
You will have your sprawling antlers soon,
I promise you little fawn.
If you can tell me why you want them,
I will give them here to you.
But antlers are not just yours you see...
The seven tines belong to all of us.

The first is the center that supports all the rest.
It belonged to the fawn that stood on shaking legs.
The weak thing that could stare nothing in the face,
and whose mother stayed always, close at its side

The second is the guard that rises close to the skull.
It belonged to the weaned fawn, stronger on his legs,
chasing birds and butterflies.
The foolish little figure that disobeyed its mother
and stole the shoots from under her snout.
Easy prey for the eagle.

The third is the first inward facing tine.
It belonged to the buck, leaping with all
his vigor..
He that is challenging his elders for
hierachy and strength.
His mother comes to comfort him, when the
leader hurts his pride.

After this is the second inward tine.
It belonged to the young stag.
He whose hide shone like a raven's feathers,
and whole musk covered every tree.
His mother watches him go away
Forced by the leader, by age, by time
He will not see her alive again
Entering the new world alone

The fifth is the last inward tine.
It belonged to the hearty old stag
The scars on his body tell a long tale
He searches for company
A herd that is his own
But time pushes him back on himself
He fights but gains no glory
In ceaseless battle, he wins but one
A doe much angered and confused, he has
Impatient and unmoved, she is
But there is only warmth in company here
and the winter passes smoothly

The sixth tine sprouts outward and carrys but one more.

This is the story of my deer, Peirce.

The forest was eerily quite. Only the chirping of birds can be heard. Peirce the fawn loved to play in the forest, run in the meadows, chase butterflies, and play with other fawns. This day he had been so excited to play that right when he woke up he ran deep into the forest while his mother was asleep. But after waiting for the sound of a deer running though the woods, or to see a deer run around, Peirce could not see or hear anything but birds. The fawn did not know why no deer came out today, so he sighed and headed back. He wanted to see his mother on this silent day. Peirce stopped. He thought he had heard something. For a moment the fawn stood, waiting for anymore signs of something there, but the sound didn't come again. So Peirce kept walking back, when he heard the sound of a deer's hooves pounding the ground. A deer! Which was his mother when he saw the doe run towards him. "Peirce! What are you doing? Get to safety NOW!!" The mother yelled. Peirce tilted his head in confusion.
CRACK!
"Follow me!"
CRACK!
Peirce followed his mother, unaware of what was happening. The fawn heard another crack, and saw his mother's right hind leg bleeding. "Run, Peirce! Run!"
Peirce ran as fast as he could. As he ran he heard two more cracks, no following cracks afterward. But he still ran, as his mother said so. Peirce kept running until he found a little spot surrounded with bushes, flowers and rocks.
The fawn waited for his mother.
Peirce waited for hours. Soon it started raining. Peirce usually liked the feeling of cool, wet rain droplets falling down his back, but this time he didn't. He had waited for his mother for a long time, and he rather would be rained on with his mother. And he waited... and waited...

Peirce could hear the sound of his own hooves clopping the ground. Why did a fool like him wait so long? The fawn must find his mother. Or maybe his mother was looking for him.

A man sat on the bench of a park, it was dark; about an hour or two past midnight, and clouds had hidden the moon and stars, save for a few rare patches in the sky were a few isolated stars shone with cold pinpoint light.
The grounds were empty. Completely deserted and still, as if untouchable by time.
Of course the ground were empty, it was freezing. Ice had glazed over the white snow which had fallen earlier. No grass was visible, the trees were stripped, vulnerable to the wind which whipped at their bark. You could hear them wail and cry as the wind rushed through the limbs of the trees.

On this cold wooden bench the man sat alone, he was crying.
Hot tears roll down his cheeks, they sting his eyes, they stain his face, they drip down his chin onto his lap.
Gloved fingers clutching pale blond hair.
His body heaves and shudders with his breathing.
He hunches over, cradling his head in his hands.
Why was he crying, he asked this to himself every time.
For nothing.
And absolutely everything.
Everything brought together and delivered in one upheaval of emotion. So many things at once that one single reason would not explain a fraction of it.
His lungs convulsed, and he choked as he struggled to take in air, unable to catch his breath.

It continued for a while.
It continued until he was subdued to nothing more than a few whimpers, as a few more burning tears crawled down his face, and his hands lay numbly in his lap.
His face was flushed, his eyes were drained to a dull shade.
He lifted the bottle from the ground next to him and took a few sips. He didn't have the energy to drink more, and dropped it into the crackling ice covered snow.

He turned himself to lay on his back, knees bent so he could fit on the bench. His face was towards the sky but his eyes were closed. The cold air froze against his slowly drying skin.
He was breathing.

Alright! This is my chance to be good at something in forest while I'm still a fawn! Here we go.

Day: 1 First day of practice on walking on water. I can do this no problem.. just give me a few minutes and I'll have this mastered in no time!

Try#: 122

What's a title used for..? How do you get one?

The Endless Forest

Serena's hollow.

Never Ending Story!

Children Dream - and you are of no exception

Seven Tines

So much for a new year...

The Stellar Cycle [index]

Pierce's Story

You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul

Walking on water. Day #1 Try#122

...Title?