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If you, weary traveller, ever find yourself in Helovia; if you wander through the quiet woods of the Threshold and set your course west; if you stray neither north to the thundering rivers of the Hidden Falls, nor south to the lush canopy of the Green Labyrinth, you will come to a forest. If the dense foliage and dark shadow do not deter you; if you continue on despite the hanging vines and clinging cobwebs and disembodied chittering (along with countless other little red flags—you know the type); if you are incredibly fearless or exceptionally foolish, you, traveller, will have entered the Deep Forest. The Beast was hunting. The fawn’s damp nostrils quivered as it limped along, leaving a coppery stain in its wake. The rotting leaves underfoot were slick and red with blood—a telltale trail for predators. Casting a distressed glance over its shoulder, the creature whimpered. Alone, injured, defenseless…the fawn was an easy target, a tender little morsel of venison practically served up on a platter for the first hungry hunter who found it. Though the creature possessed the inherent innocent expression of any decent Bambi, it was wiser to the world than that. Even with its wobbly-kneed walk, the fawn hadn’t been born yesterday. It knew that it wouldn’t be long now. Soon the Beast would be fed. |
@Ilios
