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Autumn, Year 736 of the New Age, Oakfern, The Warren

Finally carrying on with this! It looks like there will be two more images/stories in the series until it reaches a natural conclusion ^^

First - fav.me/d61m98e
Previous - fav.me/d64vtys
Next - fav.me/d6p2n6j

He woke slowly, his head fuzzy with memories and half-remembered dreams. Was he a river, or was he simply bathing in one? Why was he outside? He was cold, and wet…

As his mind cleared, the young stag lifted his head and cast his gaze about him. He was high above the forest on an isolated rocky ledge; he had collapsed in the middle of a gushing mountain stream and his ear burned. His tongue was sore too; as he thought of his tongue and his ear suddenly it all flooded back to him.

Almost reflexively he found he was on his feet, his muscles tensing in anticipation of an attack. He was still in Oakfern territory but he was outside the caves and he had left a trail of blood for who knew how many miles. Any predator in the forest below could probably smell him, and that left out any big cats that might have made their homes in the mountains; the river might have washed him clean but he could still feel a hot stickiness about his ear that suggested he was still bleeding, and there were gashes and scrapes all along his belly and flanks.

He had to get home.

Now he knew where he was and why he was here he could see why he had collapsed. He had no idea how to get back to Oakfern from the tunnel he had left and the slope descending from his ledge was far too perilous for him to scramble down. The only way was up, but given that he didn’t really know where he was up could lead him anywhere.

“It’s that or die here,” he muttered to himself.

He did not want to die. He wanted to get home.

It looked like the only way was up.

%Fawnlings by *Ehetere , Isk's original design by *Ehetere , art and accompanying story by =femalefred

Next - fav.me/d6p2n6j

Description
Autumn, Year 736 of the New Age, Oakfern, The Warren

Finally carrying on with this! It looks like there will be two more images/stories in the series until it reaches a natural conclusion ^^

First - fav.me/d61m98e
Previous - fav.me/d64vtys
Next - fav.me/d6p2n6j

He woke slowly, his head fuzzy with memories and half-remembered dreams. Was he a river, or was he simply bathing in one? Why was he outside? He was cold, and wet…

As his mind cleared, the young stag lifted his head and cast his gaze about him. He was high above the forest on an isolated rocky ledge; he had collapsed in the middle of a gushing mountain stream and his ear burned. His tongue was sore too; as he thought of his tongue and his ear suddenly it all flooded back to him.

Almost reflexively he found he was on his feet, his muscles tensing in anticipation of an attack. He was still in Oakfern territory but he was outside the caves and he had left a trail of blood for who knew how many miles. Any predator in the forest below could probably smell him, and that left out any big cats that might have made their homes in the mountains; the river might have washed him clean but he could still feel a hot stickiness about his ear that suggested he was still bleeding, and there were gashes and scrapes all along his belly and flanks.

He had to get home.

Now he knew where he was and why he was here he could see why he had collapsed. He had no idea how to get back to Oakfern from the tunnel he had left and the slope descending from his ledge was far too perilous for him to scramble down. The only way was up, but given that he didn’t really know where he was up could lead him anywhere.

“It’s that or die here,” he muttered to himself.

He did not want to die. He wanted to get home.

It looked like the only way was up.

%Fawnlings by *Ehetere , Isk's original design by *Ehetere , art and accompanying story by =femalefred

Next - fav.me/d6p2n6j