05-04-2018, 12:28 PM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt;"]Muted hoof beats can be heard as small cloven hooves move across the soft ground is the only auditory clue to the creature’s arrival. Large, full-moon eyes the color of argentium gaze in wonder upon the sea of rolling hills, nostrils flaring as she breathes in the wonderful scent of earth and sky. Never before has she seen something so...so open. It is nothing like the cold, ancient atmosphere of the dark forest in which she was raised. Most creatures who inhabit this heavenly landscape must sport the colors of earth: browns and blacks, perhaps even greys or reddish hues. It makes sense that the natives blend into the golden grasses and the lush forests. But not she. Like a ghost, she drifts through the plains. Beautiful, graceful, and utterly silent. The doe’s soft white pelt contrasts starkly with the vibrant shades of surrounding landscape. Her eyes, which would be a rich chocolate brown for most deer, are sterling grey. Even the blood, some of which spills down her otherwise untainted pelt from various superficial wounds, gleams silver instead of crimson. It is as if the color has been washed from her, leaving only the nimble figure and snowy coloring of a mannequin. Or the moon personified.
Despite her wonderment, the young girl moves with trepidation. This is an unknown place full of unknown terrors and unknown people. Before she escaped the hunters which systematically tracked down and killed all the snowy white creatures native to that magical wood, she and her people moved in groups. She is unsure if any other forest spirits managed to survive, but something tells her that it would be foolish to let down her guard. There is no reason why the hunters would have just...let her escape. She is positive that if she is not careful, they will find her. Perhaps if she can find a new group of people to live with, it will offer a form of protection which she cannot provide for herself. All she has are legs and her mind—they are only good for running, not fighting.
The beautiful creature slows to a halt, her elegant neck barely rising over the tips of the blades. The grasses tickle her nose. She sneezes. An invisible border of scent markers begins just beyond the cloven points of her hooves. Friendly travelers who helped guide her here said that these people are called the Ascendents. An astrological term? Perhaps these are people of the stars? If so, then they may not be so different from she, who was born from essence of the forest. Like the moon, her people watched over the sacred lands, guarding the magical creatures who resided there. Her father is—was—the Hart. He was revered by all; humans, animals, and the supernatural. But he is gone now. They murdered him for his skin. She shakes her head, attempting to rid herself of the thought. No reason to dwell on that now. This is her new beginning. The past can wait. ”H-hello?” calls the young doe in a shaky voice, resembling a wind chime trembling in the wind. ”I..I would like to stay here if..if that’s alright.” for all she knows, she is talking to the air. But she has traveled too far, and she is tired. The girl cannot wait much longer before she collapses.
Despite her wonderment, the young girl moves with trepidation. This is an unknown place full of unknown terrors and unknown people. Before she escaped the hunters which systematically tracked down and killed all the snowy white creatures native to that magical wood, she and her people moved in groups. She is unsure if any other forest spirits managed to survive, but something tells her that it would be foolish to let down her guard. There is no reason why the hunters would have just...let her escape. She is positive that if she is not careful, they will find her. Perhaps if she can find a new group of people to live with, it will offer a form of protection which she cannot provide for herself. All she has are legs and her mind—they are only good for running, not fighting.
The beautiful creature slows to a halt, her elegant neck barely rising over the tips of the blades. The grasses tickle her nose. She sneezes. An invisible border of scent markers begins just beyond the cloven points of her hooves. Friendly travelers who helped guide her here said that these people are called the Ascendents. An astrological term? Perhaps these are people of the stars? If so, then they may not be so different from she, who was born from essence of the forest. Like the moon, her people watched over the sacred lands, guarding the magical creatures who resided there. Her father is—was—the Hart. He was revered by all; humans, animals, and the supernatural. But he is gone now. They murdered him for his skin. She shakes her head, attempting to rid herself of the thought. No reason to dwell on that now. This is her new beginning. The past can wait. ”H-hello?” calls the young doe in a shaky voice, resembling a wind chime trembling in the wind. ”I..I would like to stay here if..if that’s alright.” for all she knows, she is talking to the air. But she has traveled too far, and she is tired. The girl cannot wait much longer before she collapses.