Perfected :: Her Body :: Greek Necessity :: Deep Throats :: Scrolls

Little Deer For the Montparnsse diaryring Tiny red dots of blood begin to speckle her skin before her mind has time to register the sharp wooden spikes. There was a moment before the searing pain tingled along her nerve endings where she watched the crimson trickles dripping across her soft fur and thought how pretty they looked. Then sharp searing pain shot through her, first once, then a second time, then one moment of agony for each of the nine arrows until the coalesced into one throbbing hurt. Her strong legs begin to splay, sinking closer and closer to the dank green earth that came up to meet her, claiming her, welcoming her back. Her antlers score a deep line down the mossy tree trunk as she slipped down. Her hooves dig into the ground, displacing soil and dead leaves as her sinewy body swayed and shuddered. The jagged points had ripped deep into her flesh, now each is surrounded by a blooming flower of red, seeping and staining across her pelt. Her lifeblood trickles out onto the earth, binding her to it. If the end came, and came now, she welcomes it as the forest grows darker, the shade of Hades obscuring noonday sunlight. She stares out defiantly, though her vision is starting to cloud hiding the hunter beneath the veil of death. With her last snorting breaths that hang like mist in the cold, sharp air, she denounces him as a coward. The artist of her destruction. His ugly weapons pierce her flesh, but she is beautiful in death in a way he is not in life. Once rigor mortis sets in, the strange smile on her face will stay frozen, a photograph of her last moments. ______________________________ we have come so far :: it is over

Accomplishment :: The Moon :: Toga :: Night Flower