|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The Rules of Fine GroomingSpring, Year 758 of the New Age
The Great Oak, Glenwood, Glenmore
For the love of Óganach, Áillte give her strength! The pale doe took a deep breath as she looked at the younger princess. It seemed like the young doe didn't see the importance in the matter and now the fillys mother had turned to her, and to Fenella it seemed with a slight desperation in her eyes. The fillys mother had mention that her daughter had a mind of her own but Fenella had never really understood how true the words had been.
“Now, Princess Myrna, look here...” She pointed at the plant she had taken the young doe to “...this plant is good for many things, for example wounds but today I'm going to show you it's good for your mane and tail as well.” The older Princess nodded to herself as she searched her own memory of the plants good qualities. “You see...aloe vera boosts the growth of your mane and tail,
Pregnant Pause - Elitas PoVEarly Spring, Year 758 of the New Age
Glenwood (near the Great Oak), Glenmore
She was stubborn and strong willed. Reluctantly she bowed somewhat after his will, tradition went deep in her, but he couldn't stop her going here. Now however, even if the snow - finally - mostly had melted away she found it harder and harder to move about the closer she came to her time to foal. She felt it in every fibre of her body, not only due to how her foal moved or tried to move inside her as the room got less and less, or if it was just instinct or something else that told her this. The doe stopped, catching her breath, her wintercoat made moving about a even sweatier business. Thankfully now as the sun begun to shine with warmer rays it affected everybody and not just her. Zahir’s pale hairs mixed with her dark ones in their nest. Soon it would come off in patches and a sure sign of that the shedding was going to start was that it had started to itch. A rar
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More