[=10]"[i] Dont you just love when things go wrong? When you're out with your mother, your best friend, your lover, out in the field. And then there's the crows... they fly from the forest screaming a word that could relate to another, 'man'. You know the cry im talking about? That cry, that high pitched shriek of terror from a single crow, that symphony of agonising pain from tens of woodland animals as they become swallowed by a dark hole that throws them into another world, a world were all is happy and colourful.

But, when the little creatures arrive in that world, they do not rejoice. Nor do they jump for joy! Instead they sit and hang their pretty little heads. They hang their heads and weep, because they failed. They failed to do what their mothers told them before the mother died. They failed to live, failed to reproduce, failed to help the next generation.

Because when that piercing scream made by hundreds of crows rattles throughout the forest, you do not stand and listen. No, you turn tail and run. Because, once the crows have called, there is yet another warning that you would have heard as you ran... a bark. A yipe. A yelp. A howl. A snarl. Those that come from canines, come from 'mans best friend', the dogs. Even the wolves dare not challenge these beasts. Beasts bred to destory even the largest and strongest of creatures, bears, moose, elk. All of these were fair game for them.

Out in the field you were shocked to find that a wolf had turned on one of its own. You were suprised as it sunk its fangs into the others hindleg and twisted, a sickening snap echoing through the grassblades. The larger wolf ran forward, the other left on the floor, screaming in agonising pain. Then you learned what the larger wolfs' idea was. The dogs burst from the thicket, and ran for the wolf that was screaming so loudly, that it hurt.

No.
That wasnt fair.
Then again, now the wolf had a broken leg...

(Spoken through the mind of my fawn, Kero Dai Shu.)

Who am I?
I find myself asking that question often. Too often.
It's not that I don't know my name. It's just... well, it's so complicated.

Kero Dai Shu. It means nothing, yet it means every thing. It's not in any language, yet it's so simple that it should be. My name makes me unique. Yet, that uniqueness is scary. Others hurry away from me once I start to play. Is it how I jump around and zig-zag? Or is it me? Am I the reson for my loneliness?

My line has become an endless repeat of silence. If I walk for long enough, if I roar often enough, some one comes. It's usually a fawn that comes to see me, at least that doesn't make me also feel tiny. Every fawn that I meet, we greet eachother by sniffing. This usually is fallowed by a respectful bow. I often start to hop, hoping they will play a game with me. Some times, when I'm lucky, the other fawn will hop as well. I run and hide, then zoom out again to incurage a game of tag or hide-and-go-seek. Any fawn that has not ran off by then usually shakes their head on walks away.

The older deer. The Stags. The don't bother to play with me, but I suppose that's okay. Some times I try to get them to dance with me, but they always walk away and ignore me. A few Stegs have even reared or acted angery at my efforts.

That leaves me wondering, who am I? Am I a lonely fawn looking for a friend? Am I to persistent? Am I to unique, to different? Am I just some helpless fawn that's been abandond by the other deer? Or am I just a nothing, an animal not ment to be there? Maybe I'm some thing else? Oh, how I wish I knew!

I have the habit of staying close to the pond, trying to find an answer. Will I still be there doing the same thing when I am a Steg? If I am, I will fight back my trecherouse loneliness with my antlers and win my place amongst the other deer. If I find my place when I am a Steg, I will become friends with all the other lonely fawns.

WARNING: Drug use, some bad language

Huhu, here's what's happening while Skelter's being all happy and lovey >D

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