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Description

Featuring Daeron
                                                Autumn, Year 768 of the New Age
                                                  Glenmore, Royal Glades

Most days the grullo stag kept his mind busy with work, whether it be spars or just his usual rounds he makes for the herd. His mind is always preoccupied with something other than the thoughts that still try to haunt him when left alone.
Today was not one of those days.
He had almost made it, the last rosy hues of daylight giving way to the blue satin waves rolling over the sky to signal the beginning of the night. As he watched those rays of sun vanish his heart was chilled with the serene yet lonesome solitude of his father’s glade. The icy grip crept its way around him, encasing his very existence in a sullen shell that could not be penetrated to liberate the trapped creature inside that so desperately begged for freedom.

It came crashing down on him. Its bitter cold flooded over him, pounding and battering against him like a monstrous wave ready to sweep his increasingly unsteady hooves out from under him and drag him down to the darkest of depths it could reach. His tines felt like lead, heavy and weighing his head down as his muscular neck gave way and allowed his head to hang. Tears began to roll down his scarred cheeks, his chocolate eyes slamming shut as he let the emotions finally flood over him.
“Father.. I need your guidance..”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Daeron has some pretty bad spells every once in a while ;~; he does his best to keep hidden from view when they do hit. Little does he know, he isn't completely alone this time around. Not in spirit, at least.

I wanted it to look a lot better than this but I lost lot of inspiration for it so ;~; here you go.
character and art (c) me

Description

Featuring Daeron
                                                Autumn, Year 768 of the New Age
                                                  Glenmore, Royal Glades

Most days the grullo stag kept his mind busy with work, whether it be spars or just his usual rounds he makes for the herd. His mind is always preoccupied with something other than the thoughts that still try to haunt him when left alone.
Today was not one of those days.
He had almost made it, the last rosy hues of daylight giving way to the blue satin waves rolling over the sky to signal the beginning of the night. As he watched those rays of sun vanish his heart was chilled with the serene yet lonesome solitude of his father’s glade. The icy grip crept its way around him, encasing his very existence in a sullen shell that could not be penetrated to liberate the trapped creature inside that so desperately begged for freedom.

It came crashing down on him. Its bitter cold flooded over him, pounding and battering against him like a monstrous wave ready to sweep his increasingly unsteady hooves out from under him and drag him down to the darkest of depths it could reach. His tines felt like lead, heavy and weighing his head down as his muscular neck gave way and allowed his head to hang. Tears began to roll down his scarred cheeks, his chocolate eyes slamming shut as he let the emotions finally flood over him.
“Father.. I need your guidance..”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Daeron has some pretty bad spells every once in a while ;~; he does his best to keep hidden from view when they do hit. Little does he know, he isn't completely alone this time around. Not in spirit, at least.

I wanted it to look a lot better than this but I lost lot of inspiration for it so ;~; here you go.
character and art (c) me