Dare I even wake from the depths of darkness to feel a coldness that you can only feel within? Dare I even open an eye into the world that contains such a deep forceful hurt upon the heart? It is as if the gods have not made me feel enough of it. Where I feel an ounce of joy there is a ton of sorrow awaiting me. Why must it all fall upon my shoulders? Have I not done enough to take back the past? Whatever it must be, I sorely wish that I could make this sickening feeling stop.

It seemed to be a day of punishment, and I should have known when I first saw the dew accumulating on the statue beside me. Looking out into the great expanse of the world I found the fog was pouring in, great clouds of it silently leaving remainders of great foot prints in the air. Such weather I was welcoming to, as I could disappear and move as a shadow amongst the trees. As a shadow I went, my voice the only thing to announce I was there. I could hear replied off in the distance, though the change in sound from the weather threw off my senses.

At first I felt lost, calling again as if asking for another beacon to find the other by. In the haunted atmosphere there was nothing calling out. It seemed as if I were hearing things, the woods playing tricks on the deepest regions of my mind. With a heavy sigh I trudged off, once again melting into the surroundings. Now that I had no want to look for it the sound came again not too far off. I knew where this place was and stretched my hooves forward to push the earth out behind me. Company was welcomed, but I did not know that I was not.

It was like arriving to the ruins, only the great stone statues breathed and would move. One deer trudged back and forth in a shallow creek, never showing more interest in the world than that. Just a leap across there were others, yet they did not respond. It seemed to be my fate, to be amongst living ruins, their warmth cold to me and their breath a whisper of disdain. When a smaller pie-bald deer moved, I leapt across the creek with great apprehension. What was wrong with me that I could not seem to find? Yet I went anyways, giving the old respectful greeting that was ingrained in my by the older stags when I was but a fawn.

The living finally came to life to stop my advances, standing between me and a simple hello. No matter my attempts to show I meant no harm, it meant nothing. It was clear that the cold embracing around my heart was only to grow tighter here. In anger I lashed out, showing my hate, my loathing for their biting attitudes. They did not call me Dragon for nothing. I was once powerful, at least in my own mind, and I would not take such treatment. No, I would not stay around such monsters, but not without one last hiss escaping the bone white jaws of the skull.

As I took myself away I could see two more join in them, and yet they were welcomed without second thought. It was then I realized what made the gods and deer hate me so. Running away from the world seemed to easy until I came upon the statue that guarded my entry into darkness. As my body lay upon the now imprinted earth I looked up into the eyes that always looked ahead before placing my nose to its side. There was no answer, no consoling to come. What I needed most was never to be there, and I knew I would always return here to find what little blessing life gave me. For all my years I had never felt as such, and never had I found out what made them abhor me so.

It was me.