Fawn of spring, graced with innocence. Coral flowers blooming on your budding horns
A beginning to a new life.
Lush viridian grass feed on the blood of the young. The deer are dead; Their lifeless bodies lay on the ground
Inviting Lady Death herself, She softly embraces their carcasses
As such is their fate.
Glee of a hunter, a predator ready to drag his prey
To the cabin from where he came as to him, the fawn was just another feast
A prey to death and to the eyes that stalk from afar, little fawn run for they know where you are.
Stick close to the herd as once you separate, you'll be lead astray onto a path of ash where only the claws of Lady Death exist.
Her scythe, sharp and can pierce through any skin, yet she simply gazes from afar
For even she pities your fate.
The hunters are far worse than any creature, life, or death, for they show no mercy, especially to a fawn so naive and young.
