Writing

Tolkien in the forest...

Voiceless it cries,
Wingless flutters,
Toothless bites,
Mouthless mutters.

Troubles

Standing out among the ole oak trees in the glade I spied the two deer wobbling full speed ahead toward the cave tree. Peeking just past the trunk the neck cuddling had begun but one belonged to another and though such entanglements happen frequently in the forest it is with blessing. One sometimes has promises to keep and though the cuddling engaging, the rutting season shall become most fierce due to such brokenness. I moved to the side of the tree. Across the way within my field of vision another deer who had often played with the original pair with full blessing pounced out in a French swag coat moving in a way that told all others this was her show, her drama to manipulate. Suddenly four fawns burst out of the cave tree and went straight for the madam deer. Her making gestures that all was well and just a new friendship. The reaction of the deer who was taken said it all. Startled the deer plunged into the cave pulling her new friend inside. The madam deer surrounded by fawns who believed her gesture and calmed down slowly strolled to the cave tree with fawns following. In a few moments the madam deer and the deer who was taken exchanged communications much like a madam instructing one in the finer arts of manipulation. The deer who was taken began to cry uncontrollable, madam deer comforted in that special way that goes from comfort to acquisition. Now owned the deer calmed down and began the head chortling as the madam deer made loving foreplay. Once charmed and engaged the madam deer gave a new assignment the deer taken went back into the cave tree. Moving over to the pond I hung around with the dragon flies and played with frog and when twilight fell the deer taken came out with two fawns. Instead of the lovely bounce of playfulness the full wrath of some offense oozed out every cell of their being and spilled throughout the forest glade.
Lucian's picture

Dragon's Soul

An ever-enveloping shroud of fear, intimidating yet excruciatingly warm. With ill-motived wings and spikes of a dragon, came the suspiciously soft-hearted values the very being possessed. Inhumanely, their soul was none but that of a dragon encased in a snare of the putrid vessel of a fleshy human. An essence so proud, unlike any beast of their kind, it was pure yet unbearably looming. Those of faux leathery wings, no nothing of this dragon nor can they understand the morals that come with. This gentle monster withholds the diluted meaning of longing for their kind again yet with rough intentions. They search until a suspect, a value, a treasure or precious gem is found and flourish for the truth. Once their wings have been raised, you will be covered in nothing but space of sweet sub rosa. A veil of false menace once you're concealed in their wings is all that remains.
Lie to the dragon and you shall be punished.
Show weakness to the creature and you shall be forgotten.
To exist before him is to become the ambrosia he so needs.



( Not deer related but, thought about posting it here since I haven't done anything in awhile. Inspired by a dear friend I quarreled with the other day. )

Demented Deer Musings Final Episode --would not want to impede the magic

My deer gal did not fully think out what rabbiting would do long term. I have already got my rabbit gal trained to bring me a pine cone for nibbling and one of those purple dragonflies from the pond for smoking. The psychoactive experience makes the rabbiting worth it. Rabbit gal now shoots pellets on the ground well like a rabbit. She almost has that squat thing timed just so that she leaves a trail of dots instead of a skittle pile.

But like I always told my rabbit gal you can't do it all in one day. I feel kind of lonesome without my old deer gal but she just wouldn't leave that French deer alone. My rabbit gal is faithful though eccentric. I am still learning how to hop on her back and do coordinated double decker hops. Getting on top the mother crying idol and dropping on rabbit gals helps just have to learn where to put my hooves. Well I guess I better quit. The other deer keep luring rabbit gal away for advice on snatching French swag.

P.S. Does anyone want a couple of rabbit gal kits, I think she is pregnant she has that look and that bulge. As we say in or deer and rabbit gal home now happy pellet trails to you...just follow the dots.............................................................................................................
Zergarikiaka's picture

Unusual Magic

The moonlight cut silver lines through endlessly thickened fog, only to create a bleak grey glow on the surface of the pond’s unbroken, glassy surface. The ghostly wisps of unseasonal fog that entrenched the landscape that night muted out nearly all color from the forest, and rendered visibility into a functional minimum. Even the astute nocturnal creatures of the forest were resigned to their dens and nests, lest the imagined threats and beasts of the fog manifest their selves from nightmares into reality. It was the right conditions needed for just a bit of magic.

Three bulls stood just beyond the pond’s shore, speaking among one another quietly to avoid gaining the attention of any nearby denizens of the forest. Two of the three were of particularly large build, with massive horns, and extra sets of domineering crimson eyes, while the third was of medium build and seemed to somehow attract the moon’s pale light to himself by simply standing there, resembling a blue ghost in the fog.

“I doubt we’ll have another chance like this any time soon. If any of the ingredients are wrong, or if our timing is wrong we’ll need to wait until next autumn for another chance for nature’s events to align properly again.”
“Now is not the time to start concerning yourself about ingredients. You divined their need yourself, and your experience is unquestionable. Have a little more confidence in yourself, necromancer.”
”Right, right. Call it caster’s jitters.”

As the more vocal, monotonous duo spoke among one another, they had begun a process in using a special collection of herbs and crushed runes, intermixed with dried potentially hallucinogenic substances the pale blue bull opted out of identifying, to carefully construct a series of symbols across the ground; a Veve, depicting the voodoo lwa ‘Gran Bwa’, at the center of the Celtic tree of life.

Demented Deer Musings Part 4

Evening fell upon us and the twilight grayed the forest and spell cutter deer with his Frenching had done on my gal passed. We went to the bluebonnet aspen tree glade just past the crying mother idol. Settled in for a nap. As dawn came my deer gal groaned and moaned about the day before. She so desired to do the bunny hop again as free and uninhibited as she did with cutter deer. Not one to stop the fun of it and thrill, always allowing my deer gal total experimentation even if I did not understand it I knew I had to do something so we could endlessly continue bantering and banging, frolicking and flying, snuggling and sleeping. If anyone had the solution it would be the ancient deer who laid on the playground watching wanderings of the deer.

I rustle up my deer gal and we pranced to the playground. There in all in magnificance of red spread vein like antlers, majestic head and unusual pelt he sat on the large rock with several others holding council. I go up to the fella deer and explain the situation. His ancient wisdom spilled out with the waving of his head. He beckoned my deer gal over. Standing up in his full glory like some kind of deer god he sidled up to my deer gal, shook his body and horns in a figure 8 pattern almost concentric at times with a bit of entropy behind it and with a super Z he hypnotized my deer gal.

With a thrust of his might loins my deer gal hunched, now she thinks she is the rabbit.

Demented Deer Musings Part 3

See "Writings" for Part 1 and 2 deer chose a different garden path and letting it flourish, more the merrier)

French Deer Shop (specialized pelts with the mardi gras mask and then end up the spotted sexy swag coat)
About 3:39 am in the morning the cutter deer was obviously inebriated from deplantis Vodka. Cutter deer got mixed up and thought my deer was a French deer with those ways, long lashes and dewy eyes.(My deer has that but not French) So cutter deer stomps his hooves and rears up. When he comes down in his antlers was a mushroom he retrieved from a trunk (the kind with psychoactive ingredients). Cutter deer slings his neck just so and out flies the mushroom chunk. As it whizzed passed my nostrils it had been soaked in deplantis Vodka. My girl deer just hung that silly joker tongue of hers out(see concept for pic of joker deer) and lerped it up and swallowed it whole. I have to admit I had the mushrooms too and all I could do was stand there and watch. Cutter deer moves up next to my girl deer. Instead of the loving starting he hops fully up on her fur back wanting a walking ride right in front of me. It is not rutting season or the games at the graveyard. My girl deer instead of walking starts acting like a deplantis bunny (small pond with facet on brick). She starts hopping around. I thought that looked becoming and stood there fascinated watching the deer bunny hop progress.

Ponderings of the Progeny 1

Is it better to die in pieces or all at once? I watch as mother and father deer get reports from doctor deer down by the pond of being healthy. Yet things are not the same. For years a deer progresses upward, refines a skill, flies a bit farther... then one day not so far, not as fast still good but something drifted away never to be retrieved. At first no big deer deal since plenty more after a life time of romping around, diving in the water or flying in the air.

Slowly despite the healthy reports mother and father deer give up some favorite activities small things at first then bigger things. Long trips become less frequent and roaming starts being only at the favorite spot. Realization that nothing can be done to make it better other than make it comfortable.

Should the mother and father deer find a fire spot and rage, rage at the dying of the light inside? Or do you just let it slowly envelope till no reason more to do or think? At that point what does progeny deer say.


A deer life well lead cannot go on forever so how do you exit ancient wise deer. What do you save and what do you let go. No dreaded deer disease, no dramatic heart attack no intense pain, just a very slow fading. Those deer together so long have long since merged into one so how does one become single again after so long paired? Lovely healthy gray parent deer enjoying simple sunbeams, the taste of food, the feel of a large velvet brown glade to nap in and the trickle of water.

Progeny protecting against the ill intents.
Serpulalacrymans's picture

Autumn Fire

The air is cold against my face
The leaves crisp beneath my hooves
The sweet smell of decay on the air
Laced with the warming scent of smoke.

Beautiful orange streaks dancing
Destructive yet loving to life
The flames wash over the forest
What was once warm now burned fiercely.

Spring has come, snow melting away
The burnt forest still remains
However the forest is blessed with ash
New life sprouts and deer are thriving.

Something so beautiful, yet dangerous
Destruction leads to creation after all
Life is sacrificed to birth a new beginning
May deer young and old never grow hungry

Demented Deer Musings Part2

The Deer and I were drinking a little bit. Well to be exact, one case of de plantis Vodka, 5 cases of pond beer for chasers and a case of creek gin. WE didn't drink all of that of course. There was a half a bottle of creek gin left that someone had dropped behind the twin gods. There was 12 deer there___five boy stags and 7 lucious ewes. This one stag was known as a cutter, cut in line, cut in the air, cut through pond just cut and he owned a French Deer Shop (specialized pelts with the mardi gras mask and then end up the spotted sexy swag coat). About 3:39 am in the morning ( see Other and he is there he woke me up)
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