[=10](For maximum effect, please play music before beginning)

I haven't seen a soul dressed like this since I was born. Why is that skull thing such a big fad? Why isn't it this big tribal mask, the one that stands up and yells, Look at me?

The forest, being where it was, had already grown warm with the promise of summer. The cicadas once more took their place in the long grass, quite a few already launching into their droning hum. A black-and-white doe lay on the muddier terrain, breathing deeply in sleep over the rippling water of the river. The area was quiet, and peaceful. Until, however, a stag’s deep belling echoed over the expanse, and her ears pricked, followed by her neck craning upward to look about.

It’s so hot.



She shook her head to clear it, sending feathers shaking wildly, and hauled herself to her feet with difficulty. The sun beamed down on her ash-toned back, spotting it in light and radiating warmth throughout her body. The doe smiled under her mask. These were the glory days of the forest – while some wished desperately for weather changes, that brought variety and so-called ‘enjoyment’, it was when the temperature was that of a fire’s glow that she found herself most content.

But then there was the matter of her fur. Caked in dried mud and quite disagreeable. The creek was too narrow here to wade in – testing her leg shortly and finding it mostly fine, the long-legged hind took off at a canter, taking her time to feel the breeze wind over her skin.

The water’ll be cold.

Slowing within a short time, she snorted appreciatively as the crystal blue of the Pond came into view behind the willow trees.

[=9]If you know my writings well, you may notice a slight change in style. I was inspired by "An Occurance at Owl Creek Bridge" and attempted my own interpretation of realistic literature. I hope you enjoy it, this is one my few slightly silly stories. I also played heavily with words in here, especially with alliteration.




The first hungry thunder bellow of the year. A vivid blue ear flicked in retaliation, and the stump of the other remained in woeful slumber. In a larger aspect, there was a gradual awakening of feather, characterized with periodic yawns and groans. She drug her long limble limbs beneath her form. In sharp contrast to the event of gaining conciousness, the sky howled at her to rise. She complied with a skittering, tinkering tangle of limb that quickly found her standing startled in the soil.

On her rise, the sky rejoiced. Snow-laden eyes observed this plainly; little figures of lighting cavorting across the night and tossing happy sparks in celebration. However, the moment they ceased thier romping, the black beast of cloud thundered commands that the celebration continued. It made her lethargic lapse of thought cease its waves for a moment to bring about a suggestion of uselessness. Perhaps the sky didn't need her after all. But one could not be down watching the lighting dance daintly in the late winter sky.

Something stirred beside her, but did not rise. The lump of careless flesh hauled itself over onto its side to peer curiously into her wide-eyed visage. He stared solemnly; an amber concocture of weariness and concern. She broke the silence by purposely letting her color drained eyes search into his soul. Darcy looked uncomfortable under her stare, but she blamed him not. Her eyes, as previously noted, had lost every tinge of color and blazed an angry white. Vision hindered not but mind rendered hollow.

"I...im so sorry... Fawn, do not fear my presence... I merely hate to see a fawn naked and alone. Did you not wonder why I granted you a spotted pelt? Did you not wonder why I sat near you? ...The stag... the nameless... the titleless. He made me fear for you, fawn, I am sorry... please, nameless, leave the fawn be.

I have no pelts to grant you, no masks to place upon your maskless face, no antlers to store upon thy skull. Please, nameless, leave the fawn be. If you wish, chase me, spear me with your antlers, slash me with your hooves! But please, leave the fawn be. Please."

If you're the fawns player, feel free to post here! xD.

Yeah, Vinny cares alot about fawns. He encountered several of them, sleeping alone. He dispises to see them alone, like that. He often wonders were their mothers have wondered off to.

"little black dog little black cat little black susie and her little black hat~!"

Whistling, scraping deep voice.
Resonating through the trees, small flakes of dark dried blood flaking in small granules from his pelt, drifting down to taint the pure forest floor, replaced by dark sanguine drops from the pulsing hearts impaled upon his tines.

Rivers flowed down over his back, down his slim legs, bloodied hoof prints upon the grass.
His metallic eyes remained blank, as if not really seeing anything at all.