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W+i-n+d

April 2, 2010 - 4:36am — Sonata

Mama, my kite is stuck!

Writing

The Darkness is coming...
But there is The Light.

[i] The Darkness stands at one side of the grassy plain. His eyes are bleached white, put they are mottled with grey and with silver. They have a pearly white gleam, but not of beauty but of pure hatred and of pure evil. His pelt is as black as the night sky its self, which would make sense, he was the one who created it. Then each innocent soul flew up into the Darkness of the night and scattered across it, becoming stars. His antlers are hooked and are curved. They are like the many branches of a wide oak tree. String is tied to each of those branches, and on the ends of the string? Are skulls, the many skulls torn from the bodies of dead and dieing innocent deer that have been consumed by the night.
The Darkness flicks his tail and tosses his great heavy head. His eyes are fixed on the opponent.
Who dares to stop him from murder?

The Darkness did not want to become this beast..
He had no choice.
Hatred consumed him, ate his heart and his soul. Blinded his mind with shadows and whispered him to kill.
The hatred consumed many, and now they are his slave.

The Light stands at the other end of the grassy plain. His brilliant white fur shines with magic of purity. He is the hope, he is a candle in The Darkness. The Protector. His deer face, so handsome and bold is frowning, with concentration and determination. His eyes are like fire, fire that can defeat anything in it's path. But fire will not help, it is a battle of souls and not of strength.
His pelt is like a mirror, reflecting the love, reflecting the joy and happiness. His antlers curl around the top of his head, they seem to be sheilding that Halo baring ones name.
The antlers are white like his fur and curled around those antlers are vines, they comfort him. On each vine blooms a beautiful white flower, their petals reach to the sun.

Writing

The Beast

April 2, 2010 - 3:19am — Latte

The night so cold and still,
The forest so eerie and dark,
Shrouded in mystery the secrets hidden in nature.
Shadows spill out across the moss-covered ground,
The ground and the trees are bathed in the rays of the moon.

Then, on the horizon a silouhette,
A shape of a beast.
The long and slender muzzle points to the sky,
The sky is like a wizard's cape,
Curved over the Earth sheilding it from the space beyond.

The beast with eyes like halos,
They gleam like magic the irises a golden-yellow,
They stare and they observe,
They search and they hunt,
They watch and remember.

The beast with a pelt like night,
It gleams like a rook's wing,
In the pelt, scars of the past,
Trophies of battles won and of battles lost.

The beast bares his fangs,
He is the son of the night,
He is the son of The Darkness
but he is....

The Master of Battle.

Thought I'd have a go at poetry, I don't know..

Writing

The Darkness..

April 2, 2010 - 2:59am — Latte

The doe lay on her side, her eyes were shut and her breathing was loud and slowing. There were scratches across her torso, thick red blood trickled from them, seeping across the grass like a river. The blood stained her once beautiful white pelt turning it a brown-ish colour. There was a large wound across her face that had been opened up, if she were to survive, this would leave her face scarred and deformed. Her eyes shot open, beautiful hazel eyes filled with pain and with fear. She cried out in her agony, her ears flickering about her.
A voice had entered her mind, it taunted her, whispered fears into her mind forcing the weakness and life from her. Then the shadows from the trees crept out. they moved across the ground and formed into creatures of The Darkness, their bleached white eyes gleamed with evil.
" P-please, no more! " whimpered the poor doe, her little heart pounding against her ribs.
The creatures advanced, hooked fangs and claws bared no mercy in their soul.
The darkness consumed her, tore her soul from her body, The Darkness spread....
But there in the distance a brave stag stood. A flicker of hope. A flame in the darkness.
He shone like the Sun, his eyes like fire. He threw back his head, let out his brave call.
" I have come for The Darkness. Deer of the forest, run for your lives, The Darkness is coming he will spare none. "
He put his head down, his antlers a sheild and with hooves of iron and a heart of pure gold he charged across the turf ....

The Darkness...
and
The Light...

Writing

Sparx - Missing

April 1, 2010 - 1:54pm — Latte

It was cold that morning. The grass was damp and the air smelt fresh, I was asleep though. My dreams had been different lately..they terrified me but I couldn't tell Serenity or Latte. They would worry too much. Every night as I curled up I prayed for dreams and not nightmares but that was never to be.
My nightmares are confusing..they are hard to explain. I am running through a forest but it is not this forest. Although this other forest is Endless it is not the one I am in..
All the bushes are just piles of twigs, the leaves of the trees are burnt, ash and sparks splutter from the ground in holes that have formed there. All around me, wide stretches of open plains once a forest but now burnt and broken. It's as if a wave of evil has swept through this forest and killed it completely. It is dead. Nothing can ever be more horrifying than a dead forest, and just when I think that's the worst I see shadows across the plains. Familar faces....they laugh at me.
Then I wake up.

There is a loud thud and my eyes shoot open. The forest is different. Has my nightmare come true?
I sit up and look around me. I am calm immediately, the forest is different but not like my nightmare.
The trees are just shadowed silouhettes, like black warriors standing talll and still. The air smells odd, like water. I can not see the blue sky instead their is this blanket of grey and white shoruding the whole forest. I can hardly see in it, and I doubt anyone else can. Birds chirrup high up in the trees, alarmed that they can barely see into the mist. Droplets of mist cling to their feathers, like little diamonds and when they fly the diamonds scatter everywhere, glinting in small rays of sun that have made it through the layer of cloud.
A cloud-like blanket? A wise old deer told me of this before. He said it was weather and nothing to be afraid of.

Writing

It couldn't be

April 1, 2010 - 4:36am — KittyCatKita

[center]He stood quietly, gazing out over the pond, green eyes studying, surverying, tracking. With a satisfied snort he relaxed his head, large antlers glaring brilliant red in the light that filtered down through the leaves to where he sat between the two saplings.

His jet black ears flicked forward, keeping watch before one swivelled back, hearing the softest foot falls. He did not have to look to see who it was.

Writing

[Sparx] - Latte's Past.

March 31, 2010 - 5:03pm — Latte

I haven't written about Sparx' adventures for a while. I guess I was running out of ideas and was very busy. =S If you don't really know much about Sparx this is the first of his adventures.
And the one below is the latest!
Enjoy! =)

We sat in a wide meadow of beautiful purple and pink flowers that afternoon. The aroma of their smell wafted into our nostrils, making us feel calm and contented.
We lay down on our backs, our white bellies facing up to the sky and being warmed by the sun.
Serenity was by my side and Latte on her side.
The Two Sister fawns.
Serenity: The deer who is possibly the love of my life. She has eggshell blue eyes and a little bit of a floppy blonde fringe.
Latte: Her sister. An excellent story-teller but does not speak to me much. Her pelt is honey-coloured and she has an overally long fringe covering the right side of her face and flowing down to her chest.
Her one eye showing is blue, like Serenity's.
As I thought and looked up at the sky I realised how much older Latte seemed to be compared to Serenity. Her fawn spots were already fading whilst Serenity still had hers.
I had never thought about it before, but the more I thought, the more I became interested.

I was too shy to talk, of course. So I just listened to Serenity singing. She was really happy, and I was glad. I'd brought her back from the dead, as she tried to save me.
It had only been a week since this terrible incident and we all remained eerily quiet.
Especially Me.
To save Serenity I had to journey into hell itself and bring her back, without being slaughtered by Death. And who showed me?
One of the Twin Gods. Her beautiful silver fur and long flowing mane...She called me Son.
Son...
It was weird to think of myself as one.
I had woken up in The Endless Forest with no clue as to whether I had parents or not.

Writing

Mr. Cabbage...Greetings...

March 31, 2010 - 6:50am — TheSnalf

Where is this forest I dwell?
This peaceful place seems as if from a dream.
Am I dreaming?
Is there a haunting shadow waiting ready to take me from here?
Something I need to remember...
.....But what I do not know.
I am but a young stag.
New to this world....
....Still learning....
Yet, I feel as if I've learned these ways.
I'm not alone here.
Others dwell in this wonderland.
Many..many others roam this forest.
I watch them from afar.
Learning.
Wondering.
Soon...Soon I will approach.
What will they think of me?
Will I be welcome?
Bow..Bow I must.
To show respect.
*Bow*
Greetings....
....I am Cabbage....
..Who might you be?

Bleh...I need to write more. I'm rusty.

Writing

Old Writings

March 31, 2010 - 5:49am — Sunflare

These are stories written by Sunflare the First, clumped here with their old titles and date written. The original posts have been deleted.

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Sunflare's blog
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The Light Rain Sprinkled Down on Me. (Trip!)

March 30, 2010 - 7:10pm — celticmystress

Hey Guys, so I took off early Sunday morning, and took a trip with my dad.
(I will be uploading pictures of the trip in this blog later today.

)
We went to Valley Forge (I'm a total history nut), and then after that we got a motel-- slept, and went to Straussburg Railroad, where actual steam engines run, and you can ride on them. I had an excellent time, but as we were about to leave, I had a "Half-Real" encounter with my Bones.

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[center]A Half-Real Encounter

The light rain sprinkled down on me.

To my right, she came through the mist.

Burning steel, and hissing breath of the engine shook the ground before me.

Her cane at her side, and her layers of black clothing melted out of the fog.

A small group of children was to my left. They were tucked under the cautious wings of their parents.
Careful not to let their little ones get to close to the burning, hissing beast.

As she came closer, I could see a smile form.. Her white hair combed perfectly away from her pale face.

“Ready to go?” My father asked me, and I smiled up at him. “Alright,” I said.

“Hey hun...” Her casual swagger made its way to me. “Takin' off?” She flashed her silver tooth with a smirk.

Suddenly something on the tracks caught his eye and he turned. “What is it?” I ask.

[=#4E4848][=times][=12][i]“Yeah, long drive home...” I say softly, and she lowers her gaze, and a silence falls between us.

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