There had been a time where the stag had been in blackness like this. It was actually in the darkness he was born really. For the cursed dark magical realm he was had seen was very dark and filled with nasty people. And what he remembered of it, was the only time he was with someone but very afraid. As a colt people wanted to kill him for his barred marks that the God upon those cursive lands had brought upon him. To them it was a bad omen. Though Farenjer hated them so much and didn't know why they wanted to murder him. The stag knew now. They were scared. They had become less then anything ever since the time of their banishment. They didn't need bad omens anymore.

Revealing the past inside his head, he remembered the times that were of raw memory. When he hid away in darkness, and he would remain silent and in solitude. And then, the blackout came removing everyone's magic and leaving them all in despair. He was more reluctant then ever when that time came hating to be back in the darkness. But this forever night had been helpful... it showed him he needed a grip and to become a less reluctant person. Because there was hope. Hope had brought him up on his feet and his spirits rise. But who had taught him this word and its meanings? Why, his first friend did.

The stag treaded through the snow, staggering on his way. As many bumps and rocks were hidden beneath all the snow and he did not wish to scar up his body. Endless powders of snow softly drifted to the ground from the black sky. His hot breaths could be seen as he cautiously walked through the white blanket. Farenjer halted for moments to see or listen for anybody. It was so dark... so quiet. Perhaps people like this hour as resting time? He wondered but couldn't seem to find a direct answer for all of this. That had come up in the dark hour. Pacing forward in a substantial position, he felt his locks of mane falling into his eyes but before he could shake it all off. He caught the white in his eyes.

At first he thought it was just another crystal falling to the blanket of white. But the thing remained in his sight line. It was another person, and his heart longed for it to be someone he knew well. And it was, he stooped forward, shaking his head for the locks to fall behind his ears, and his heart leaped for joy when he recognized the long mane and tail that fell to the floor. Antlers and colour. It is her. He began walking over to her, and until he was near her he halted and questioned "Arah is that you?" He felt the powder of snow drift and whirl onto his face and entangling into his tail and mane. But he kept his attention on her, silence remained on his face. Inside he was eager to have found her finally after this darkness had spread.