It was a usual routine for Rou to wake up to the sound of birdsong and the glint of the sun through the treetops. Though she was excited about what she and Farron would do when she found him, she realized that the usual joy she felt at the sight and sound of the beautiful summer day was no longer there. There was no use worrying about it now, so Rou just stood with one foreleg lifted and her ears up, alert as she listened for the familiar pictograph of the buck she had become close with. She didn't know how long she stood there, near the Drinkplaats where she had fallen asleep, but it was long enough to make her hooves itch to move.

That's exactly what the young doe did, running through the forest, passing the Ruins, the Oak, the Twin Statues and sliding to a halt near the Pond. She knew Farron well enough to know he liked spending time near the Crying Idol where the Pond began. After she arrived at the Crying Idol, Rou stood listening once again, trying to pinpoint Farron's location so she could join him wherever he was. But to her disappointment, Farron's pictograph wasn't appearing anywhere, so she laid down beside the Crying Idol for a while, unaware that Farron was just behind her. It wasn't until later that the young doe caught a familiar scent riding the wind that blew toward her. She recognized it and decided to investigate. Sure enough, Rou found Farron laying in a patch of sun, curled up and asleep. At first, Rou had laid down beside him but after a while of just lying there, Rou stood and turned to another fawn that had decided to investigate Farron and herself.

Rou tried to get the fawn to join into a dance party with her until Farron woke, but the fawn just scampered off, leaving Rou there to wait by Farron's side. Finally, growing tired of just standing around waiting for Farron to wake up, Rou settled down beside him and within five minutes, the young doe was asleep, nestled beside the buck.

It was a beautiful sunny day, as it always was. Rou was running through the forest with one of her friends until they stopped near a group of other deer. One of them had a zombie pelt complete with zombie antlers and a skull deer face. This deer intimidated her at first, though the buck made no move toward her. It wasn't until her friend left that she decided to approach the Zombie Deer. As unafraid as she could, Rou bowed in respect to the buck, who returned the gesture with a lot of grace and friendliness. Before long, Rou warmed up to this strange buck, whose name was Farron. Each time Rou and Farron found one another in the forest, usually in different locations, they bounced around and danced some before they began to run around the forest, stopping at different areas to rest, or play around.

One day, Rou had been listening for pictographs she recognzied only to find a deer she thought was interesting. After trying to tag along with the deer, he turned and began to bully her, making her afraid. As she backed away from the buck, she scented a very familiar scent, though her mind was too scared at the moment to register it at first. When she stepped closer to the buck behind her, she immediately recognized him as Farron, the zombie pelted deer she had become close with. As soon as she recognzied him, Rou stepped to his side, her movement immediately telling him what he needed to know. Farron stepped forward, protecting the young doe from the bully. With a firm, slightly angered look, Farron sent the bully packing. As soon as she saw the other deer run away, Rou approached Farron and they began to romp around, like they always would whenever they found one another in the forest. The simple act of Farron protecting Rou against the bully deer made her feel safe while she was around him and she enjoyed his company.

She awoke in a strange place, a deep, black cavern where a pulsing sound was heard in the distance. Her sight slowly came, she began to see more and more of the cavern. The doe began to walk in this musty place, occasional drips of water were heard as they splat on the rocky floor. She could not see stalactites lining the top of the place, like sharp needles ready to fall on her, and passed the occasional stalagmite that protected her. The sound was louder now, a pulsing sound much like a fast heartbeat.

She now walked into a much more well lit place, and before her was a barren black tree. The light shone on it, the tree slick and black, dripping ooze, the loud pulse now coming from the tree.

"What...is this...?", Zerg questioned.

A voice spoke to her. She never knew who it was or where it came from, but it was like a whisper on the wind, perhaps even the tree itself speaking:

"Before you is the World Tree. It has grown here in the center of all things for a long time, but now it is dying. It cannot handle the evils of the world any longer, and is nearing it's last moments...once the World Tree dies, life on Earth will cease."

"What? No! This--", Zerg began, hesitating, "This can't be the end of it all." She approached the big pulsing tree, but the black ooze lashed out at her, and she was shoved away.

"What can I do? How can I stop this?", she begged for an answer.

The voice spoke once more:

"Only the purest light from the purest heart can destroy all evil."

She didn't understand at first, but then saw a bright beam of light from a hole in the ceiling. It shone in a small spot, and once Zerg stood in the light, it reflected off of her and struck the tree. The beam was strong, and the ooze began to fizzle, but the evil fought back, now reforming to reflect the light off of it.

I started reading Nelson Mandela's Favorite African Folktales today, and was inspired to write my own folktale. I loved how the folktales explain how things are the way they are, and after a drive today I came up with this. I hope you guys enjoy a modern folktale.


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Sycamore Wings

A Doe was walking through the forest one day when she heard quite a commotion. As she rounded a hill, she noticed several sycamore trees arguing with one another. The Doe tilted her head and asked, "What is the matter?"

The oldest of the Sycamores was the first to speak, "All I have ever wanted was some space, but my sons and daughters chose to grow too close to me. Now they take all the water and nutrients from the soil and leave me none!"

One of the younger Sycamores spoke here, "It wasn't our fault! When we dropped from our mother we had no where else to go but right here. There was no wind to carry us farther away, nor were there birds or animals to bury us far from here."

The Doe thought about this, and then said, "I will help, but I do not want any more arguing from you!", and she left for a moment. The doe went deep into the forest where she found an old pond. Here lived Dragonfly, who was buzzing and skirting the pond happily. "Hello there, Dragonfly, may I speak with you?"

The Dragonfly flew to her and landed on her nose. "Hello there Doe! It has been years since we've spoken. How have you been?", Dragonfly asked. The Doe sighed, "I am fine, but I feel bad for the Sycamore trees. They cannot fly far and fast as you do, and argue with one another all their lives."

Dragonfly thought about this, "I see, I see. Let me come with you to see these Sycamore trees.