ooc ALL fawns and calves are welcome in this thread! There is no posting order. Fawns/calves are free to interact with one another, comment on the story Lailoken is telling, and talk. So long as they don't move around. NO MOVING. xD Lailoken's senile, remember, and he likes his little deerlings to sit in an orderly fashion. ^^ To make things super easy, just RP like you were already there. And it's NEVER NEVER too late to come on in! I'm planning on having several little story RPs overtime, and I hope they turn out loads of fun. :3
The storyteller climbed to his great throne, the setting sun telling him it was time to leave the company of the Fell Lore and go off to tell the younglings thier bedtime tales. He rose onto the grassy knoll with a certain pride that only those of his rank could possibley understand, his eyes surveying the calves that were already assimilated on the slopes. His regal head swept over the herd, counting out the little ones that were still too come, making sure that he would not start without anyone. It did take the fawns a great while sometimes, as their attention spans are about as tall as they are, and they often get carried off by some distant breeze or the flight of a butterfly.
The old stag was especially excited for this Larn, for he had prepared an old Reindeer tale for his audiance. The story was of the coming season, what with the Anlach having come to a pass and the cold winter months ahead, and the cheery events that were to come. He grinned beside himself like a young calf, not being able to contain just how happy he was. He remembered when he had been taken under the old teller's wing, given more stories than he had ever heard in his life, so as to have a wealthy bank of things to teach the youngsters of the heard. There was a time when the old man had told Lailoken of the Reindeer and of their own lore, which was so closely related to theirs it intrigued the then young stag's interests. He regreted never learning them as a calf, and would not pass up the oppurtunity for this generation to hear them.
Descending the hill somewhat, he came to a hault half way down, just before the small group that was already piled up in the usual semi-circle formation. He nodded to them and layed his tired body down to the grass, but kept his noble stance even when he was in such a submissive position. It was age only that allowed a red deer to do that, for if any young buck in the herd were to lay down, they would never be able to pull off the look of complete dominance that Lailoken wore every Larn. "I have, children," he began in an almost sing-song voice, "quite the tale to tell."
The storyteller climbed to his great throne, the setting sun telling him it was time to leave the company of the Fell Lore and go off to tell the younglings thier bedtime tales. He rose onto the grassy knoll with a certain pride that only those of his rank could possibley understand, his eyes surveying the calves that were already assimilated on the slopes. His regal head swept over the herd, counting out the little ones that were still too come, making sure that he would not start without anyone. It did take the fawns a great while sometimes, as their attention spans are about as tall as they are, and they often get carried off by some distant breeze or the flight of a butterfly.
The old stag was especially excited for this Larn, for he had prepared an old Reindeer tale for his audiance. The story was of the coming season, what with the Anlach having come to a pass and the cold winter months ahead, and the cheery events that were to come. He grinned beside himself like a young calf, not being able to contain just how happy he was. He remembered when he had been taken under the old teller's wing, given more stories than he had ever heard in his life, so as to have a wealthy bank of things to teach the youngsters of the heard. There was a time when the old man had told Lailoken of the Reindeer and of their own lore, which was so closely related to theirs it intrigued the then young stag's interests. He regreted never learning them as a calf, and would not pass up the oppurtunity for this generation to hear them.
Descending the hill somewhat, he came to a hault half way down, just before the small group that was already piled up in the usual semi-circle formation. He nodded to them and layed his tired body down to the grass, but kept his noble stance even when he was in such a submissive position. It was age only that allowed a red deer to do that, for if any young buck in the herd were to lay down, they would never be able to pull off the look of complete dominance that Lailoken wore every Larn. "I have, children," he began in an almost sing-song voice, "quite the tale to tell."
