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Summer CleaningA glow almost surrounded Rosie as she walked with Bryn and Gilly toward their den. Her large belly nearly hid the marks of where her ribs were. This fawn had taken a lot of her energy, though she seemed, happier and content, able to grow more food than the previous year for herself and her children, both born and unborn.
As they neared their den, Brynmore looked over at her. “You let me take care of it, my love. Just rest while I prepare it.” He said with a nuzzle, before trotting off to take care of the den. Removing the furs one by one, shaking them out to get rid of the dust, he laid them upon a branch. The prized wolf pelt, which despite its roughness had kept her and Gilly warm through the winter, was the first to be taken out. Bryn had found the injured wolf, still snarling even at death’s door, and had finished it off, figuring out a way to skin it and preserve it from one of the other herd members. Next came the two lynx pelts, surprisingly soft, and then nume
Traders, Rubies and Thieves | Part 2Brynmore
Bellowing again, his eyes trained on the red doe as she lept through the brush, before he looked at the small aging stag. Ears pinned back, he lowered his antlers and shaking them side to side, pawing at the ground as he heard the doe crash through the forest, as he watched the old stag stand his ground.
Snorting, he charged at the small stag, his legs pounding the ground, getting ready hold his own against the stag if it became a push and shove match. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his heart racing to keep up with what was happening.
Huisha eyed the bigger stag warily- surely he would charge, it was only a matter of when. As an older stag and small to begin with Huisha didn’t fool himself about being much of a threat.
He risked a glance backwards and saw that Scarlet had, thank goodness, taken off. He’d known that one had a sensible head on her.
Huisha began dancing lightly on his feet, feining quick lunges with his rack here and there a
Unconventional tactics“Go doe, get moving!” the stranger said as he pushed and shoved against Rosie. “I know you’re from Glenmore, I remember seeing you flit about and around.” Rosie squealed as a sharp tine poked her rump, tears springing to her eyes. “Prince, please, leave me be!” she pleaded as she tried wheeling around to face him, to beg for mercy.
A voice echoed through the quiet subdued forest. “Leave her be! She is not yours, and never will be!” A tall, dark stag bounded toward them, anger seething from every fiber as he ran toward them.
Brynmore growled as he charged the gold stag, antlers driving the skinny, pompous fool away from Rosie. He’d been trying to make off with her, aggressively pushing and shoving the newly pregnant doe when Brynmore had returned from a quick romp around Blackwood with Gilraen.
The gold stag twirled around to meet Brynmore, his pointed antlers cracking against Brynmore’s sweeping ones. “How da
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More