Watchers
By yan
Sun, 12 Sep 2004
- 1130 reads
A skelleton leaf on damp moss and the afterbirth of spring. A curious leveret sniffs a dying fawn and sways to the ceasless parutrition of the earth. The ice laiden horn of a motherless calf kicks its leg and bows to the waters edge. The forest so alive with the infinite fade of the ages of lore.
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