Artemisnat walked slowly through the Taurai woods.
She carried her Bow around her shoulder, and her arrows in a quiver on her back. The canopy of the trees above, though not completely overbearing, gave a moderate shade to the region. The light that did peak through was bright enough to allow sight in the opening hours of dawn. Though you could not see it from here, a beautiful sunrise was taking place in the region above the trees, bathing the treetops and grasslands in golden sunrays.

It was in this early hour that the nocturnal predators of the night were slowly falling in to slumber, and Artemisnat had already feasted on a delicious breakfast of wild boar. Having a full stomach, now she was just looking for a source of water, so she could bathe and wash the blood of of herself and her garbs and arrows. Unforunately she had lost quite a few arrowheads to the tough hide of the boar, but at least it meant she had less arrows to clean. It was odd, cleaning arrows, but she felt that it was more respectful to the next animal killed if their blood was not mixed with another. It was a sort of ritualistic superstition for her.

The dead leaves of the forest floor shuffled under Artemisnat's feet rather than crunching, due to the fact that her feet were bare. The moisture in the air seemed to alert Artemisnat's skin to the fact that there was indeed water nearby. The question was where exactly it was.

It was then she saw a frog jump out from behind a tree. It was a frog, an amphibian, that meant it couldn't be out of water for too long. She would follow the frog to the source of water. She waited util the frog had hopped a little further, and began following in it's wake. It only took about 5 minutes of trailing before Artemisnat saw the clear sight of a stream up ahead. She broke in to a run, and passed the benefactor who had led her to the water.

Artemisnat laid her bow and quiver down on the bank of the stream. Then she kneeled down in front of the stream and put her hands in the flowing water. She watched as the blood that was still fresh on her hands was washed gently downstream. She wiped them on her loin hide, and cupped her hands in the stream, bringing them up to nourish herself with the refreshing drink.

When she was done drinking, she proceeded to remove her hides, and dove in to the water. It was refreshing, the chill water. This early in the morning it revitalised the senses that may be weary from work. She splashed around a bit before she felt some sort of presence. Someone was watching her, and it didn't seem to be an ordinary animal. She looked around, trying to find the source of the uneasiness.

The forest was bustling with life, everything content in its small world. The birds, coloured hues from autumn's brown leaf to the spring's pure green filled the air with song, their musical lyrics inspiring other animals into a fervored dance. Squirrels, drenched in thick fur and bright eyes, chased one another up trees and across the forest floor, some daring enough to leap the gaps between trees. Even those massive watchmen, the proud trees, seemed to move in the wind. Their bark was strong, their torsos wide, built healthy and sturdy from pure soil and the absence of man. The air whispering past their branches spoke of tales long forgotten by most, and yet every animal listened just as closely to the elders as they did the entrancing birds.

Soft earth indented with every step of a certain buck, the rich black soil condensing under the hard hooves. Every step left a characteristic hoof mark, marking the trail of the deer clearly. There was no weight to him though, and his presence did not disturb the festivities of nature. Indeed, the stag may have frolicked and pranced along with the others if a certain scent hadn't touched him. Smell was a powerful thing in this hidden kingdom. It marked territory, warned of danger. Though what he smelt wasn't as strong as any creature laying laylines, it was enough to keep his ears and tail perfectly erect. What the buck followed a trail previously laid before him, softer indents still on the earth. The padding of a human, perhaps?

Humans. Humans were death. Destruction. Sin. They slaughtered the woods and listened not to the cries, taking greedily and offering nothing in return. So quick they were to praise their own, and yet so eager to drop blood of animals. Animals. Animals were... safe. They were pure. Innocent. No, no. Not right. Not right. The wargs. The wargs are bad. Mean wargs. Then, what were the animals? The deer paused in its trail, a ripe patch of dandelions catching its view. It moved over gracefully, like liquid given a corporeal form. Bending its neck, it let its lips slowly enclose the once delicious meal.

Bleck! The animal startled, leaping back. His limbs bent inwards, able to force him into a leap if need be. Twitching and spitting, he tried to rid himself of the foul taste. The plants, once one of the sacred lovers of the stag, had fallen ill. No longer did they nourish and comfort him; now they were bad. Poison? No, not poison. But bleck. Very bleck. And he didn't like the way they tasted at all, now. Ever since that day with the filthy humans. Human. Not humans. One. Only one. What were many deer called? Deers? No, that didn't sound right. He thought that might be wrong.

Still, the fact remained. The human came. He stepped on the precious grass. He shot at the precious dwellers. He came and hurt him. Did he hurt him? He didn't remember being hurt. But he must have been! That human must have poisoned the forest. But other animals were okay! Maybe he poisoned only Gaeras? Mean old human! Poisoning poor Gaeras. He probably would have tasted good fried with berries! Or... even without berries. Or being fried. No. No! Must be fried! Can't chew the meat. Too hard! Too hard! The musky smell of the forest, so filling and pure, died away, allowing the deer its fantasy of the flesh.

So good it would have been! Yes! Delicious! But maybe poison? Yes. Poison. Probably poison. Bad for Gaeras, not good. The animal shook its head, slender ears quivering as it did so. It needed to pay attention. A stranger was in the forest. Something had been stepping here. Not hard; no, very softly. Gently. Father Earth thanked them, kissed their toes. He never kissed his feet, though. They were too heavy. They bruised the face, made the grass fight harder. But this stranger. It was not an animal, was it? Too light to be the fur-men. Those ones called 'apes', with their thick fur and loud voices. Gaeras hadn't seen them in a long time. Why? Why had he not seen them in a long time? Did they go away? Were they poisoned too?

The soft noise of water upon earth made the deer pause, and it shied from entering the clearing entirely. This was where the trail lead, but... what if it was a trap? A trick? Perhaps some more poison human was on the other end? A ferocious growl from his stomach reminded him that poison human tasted good. He had been hungry for some time now, anyways... He should go out, see what was there. Gaeras was the swiftest in the land! No. Not swiftest. The human. The human was faster. Wasn't he? The animal didn't frown; it didn't have the capacity to do so. Its ears twitched faintly however, and the coupling of hunger and curiosity nudged it forwards.

Slowly, an elegant buck's head revealed itself from between the trees. The antlers rose from the head gracefully, built in symmetrical perfection. The white fur was unblemished, from the fur along its muzzle to the feathering over its dark hooves. Its eyes were large, with wide pupils and soft blue around it. The animal looked infinitely curious. Slowly a single leg emerged, daintily placed on the earth before it to reveal the slim musculature it had. Once that was done and the stag had not yet been killed, it mimicked the action with the other elegant limb. Then, slowly, it pressed out from the trees and stood in the clearing.

It smelt nothing. Only the moving water, and a pile of clothing. Near the clothing was a stick with a string on it though, and with its original quarry lost the stag moved over to investigate. Again it bowed its head, slender head reaching out to lay a wet nose inches above the surface of the item. Its nose twitched as it inhaled, not quite comprehending what such a thing was for. The animal's tail twitched, a single hoof pawing at the ground in a gentle question. As usual, the earth had nothing to say in reply. The silent thanks that it did not tear up grass from its mooring was not lost on the near-radiant beast; ironic, considering it missed the presence of the female entirely.

Artemisnat froze, as the rustling of bushes caused a sense of alarm in her. She looked to the direction where the sound had come from. What if it was an enemy, a fierce predator , maybe even an armed fighter. And here she was naked with no weapon, an easy kill, if they could catch her that is.

Slowly, a figure head appeared in the bushes, what was it? It put a leg forward, and then another, and Artemisnat realised that it was not a predator or an armed combatant. It was a buck. . A simple deer was all it was, or so it appeared. But Artemisnat had a feeling that the deer had followed her here. And only an idiot would let their guard down completely.

The buck moved over to Art's bow, and began to sniff it. What was it doing? Just curious obviously. Artemisnat was interested in the buck, and so slowly began to wade out of the water towards it. She moved slow, so as not to startle the creature. It was a magnificent looking beast, with a fine coat and majestic looking antlers on it's head. Though it was a fine looking coat, it was a bit strange. Artemisnat couldn't remember ever seeing a white stag before. It caused uneasiness and hypnotisation at the same time.

She was now right next to the buck. "Hello deer. What bring you here?" she asked the buck. It seemed friendly enough, and if worse came to worse she could always grab an arrow and gouge out it's eyes. This didn't seem like a dangerous being, just odd.

"It not nice to sneak up on people you know." She said to the buck. She looked down at the bow he was sniffing.
"Best not go near that, you might hurt yourself." It was too bad she couldn't talk to the buck, she was sure he must have interesting things to say. She could talk to it about nature. What better being to talk to about nature than an animal itself. She would also then be able to figure out if the deer in question had found her by accident or not...

She walked forward towards the buck in an attempt to pet it.

The bow smelled of the Grand Ones. Those sturdy trees who offered shelter and home. The wood was smooth, with a distinct colour that matched those still living. Gaeras was disappointed to find that it neither breathed nor whispered. Both pristine ears were tilted, trying to listen for the murmur of the forest. The bow had no response. Snorting softly, the creature sniffled at the string. Maybe it was for moving things? It could probably pull a small mouse, or--

"Hello deer."

The stag leapt backwards immediately, hooves crushing precious life as it bound away from the noise. Wide eyes stared up at the nude female, its haunches low. It was ready to leap away at a moment's notice, clearly not fond of the presence. Though there was a distinction about her that didn't quite displace her in these setting, she still wasn't any animal from these parts. Maybe its a humans... Gaeras shook his head, shaking loose any fleas or bugs that might have taken root in his coat. It wasn't likely, but it was an important task all the same.

Carefully the buck leaned forward, curious to the presence of the other. Already the trail had been forgotten, the relatively short attention span of the animal lost. Still, there were more important things. Like what that odd item was, and where the humans* came from. The rumbling in its stomach was temporarily ignored in favor of staring unsurely at the thing. It looked a little bit like a tree; tall, with long branches sticking out of its trunk. This tree could move, though. And what was more, it had eyes. Eyes that moved, had colour. It had a few holes near the top, (a snout? No... that wasn't what it was called), no doubt from the woodpeckers in the area. There were long tendrils of moss as well, like that of a weeping willow. Not from everywhere, mind, just the very top.

What an odd tree! He* must have been feeling silly that day!

The tree spoke again, and Gaeras lowered its head in question. A soft breeze was blowing, letting him drink in the taste of the stream and the wild. Specks of dust, feathers, and all manner of minuscule items danced with the breeze, enjoying themselves. The stag ignored them, swishing his small tail back and forth. Hurt himself? On the puller? Why would he become injured on that silly little thing? The buck pawed the ground lightly, lifting the paw sharply at the end of each movement. It was attempting to commune with the tree, though that apparently was failing.

Then the tree stepped forth once more, and again he lunged back. This time something caught his attention, though. Be it the smell of pork blood still hanging in places, or just the voyeuristic wind, a scent touched the twitching black nose. The smell of food. Dark eyes glanced about, unable to see any such meal, before it looked back up at the tree. Snorting, it turned its head and lunged away, into the bushes. It still stood high enough to watch her, and its eyes seemed beckoningy. Asking the tree to come out and play with it.

Most of the forest animals knew better than to play with the Stag. In that time he had grown desperately lonely, having to rely on the foolish intruders for fun. But this? This he could do! A moving, talking tree! He would best it, and then question it, and keep it all to himself. It would be his secret tree.

It twitched its ears in anticipation, fluffy white tail held erect, yet bobbing in the breeze all the same.


(( Gaeras does not appreciate plural vs. singular in reference to humans. Though he's thinking 'humans', he's only referring to Artemis. He* refers to Curin, who he instinctively knows rules nature if not firsthand. Finally, he's encountered male hunters before but rarely female ones (never mind one Art's!).))

Artemisnat stopped moving and stood perfectly still as the stag jumped backwards. She knew better than to make sudden movements around a wild animal, unless of course it was a killing blow. Of course this was not her prey, this was a magnificent looking beast that she had taken an interest in.

She stood there quietly as the stag examined her, wondering silently to herself what the animal was thinking. A stag such as this must be very wise, yet she would never know, since animals, to her knowledge, could not talk.

The stag ran a small distance in to the bushes, and stood there, waiting. It looked at Artemisnat, and it was obvious to her that the stag wanted her to follow him. "Hold on Deer. I gather my stuff.." she said. She took her eyes off of the stag, trusting it for the moment. She picked up torso hide and slipped it over her head, looking reminiscient of a prehistoric tube top, and she shimmied in to her lower hide, which was in effect a loin cloth. She looked quite like a cavewoman, from the early days of Arda's lore.

Now She picked up the quiver of arrows and strapped it to her back, and picked up her bow, hanging it off of her shoulder. She woud have left her weapons there, but Artemisnat felt that it was best to be prepared in case of an animal attack, on either her or this stag. It wasn't every day that one encountered something quite like this stag, though Artemisnat could not quite put her finger on why. Sure it was albino, but there was something else about it that made it unique.

When she was all set and ready, she approached the Stag again, slower this time. "Lead on mighty deer. Show me what it is you must." Artemisnat's earlier impression of possible danger from this beast seemed to have sunken quite low in her mind. The threat from this beast did not seem imminent, and so there was no harm in following it. Who knew, perhaps she would learn something.

Taragael swiveled his head unsurely, cocking it quickly from left to right as both white ears twitched. The had bent over, and started using those... those things! As if it knew what they were! Within moment the tree had pulled on its true hide, and upon seeing the leopard's spots it recognized it. Food!

The resemblance was unmistakable! On its back was that odd singing thing, along with those flying branches. He'd seen them before, felt them before, as they attempted to lodge within his pelt. Usually the nimble creature had been capable of dodging such projectiles, but some of the hunters who had visited came with hands dipped in the other planes. Planes that whispered into ears the foul secrets of the Ea-Bound, words to crash mountains to their knees and summon life to do their bidding.

Something on his side stung, like a phantom flame licking against his side. It was no more than a ghost memory, but the thought still made his tail quiver. Where the Taragael had felt this before it knew not, and it was only hazily it knew this to be a memory. Shifting uncomfortably, it drew one of the hooves along the earth, disturbing the peaceful life there. Then it gave a snort, the power of which made its head bobble again.

The food spoke once more, and the meaning was not lost on the stag. Quickly the Snow King dashed off, powerful body leaping fallen logs and thorny bristles. It moved fast, like the sound of thunder or the promises of a lifetime, and also like them it remained furiously out of grasp. It would drive its form on until it looked merely like a bowing birch, then twitch its ears and await the prey to catch up. When she was in a suitable distance it would dash off again, legs moving in perfect unison.

The crazed animal gave off a certain air of respect, even though it lacked and deservance of it. It's strides, so precise and calculated, indeed implied that it was following a path. It certainly never circled around. However, it was in fact luring the Huntress to the deeper areas of the woods, where bears and wolves suffered ravenous hungers and even the moon was afraid to grace its shy light. Many twisted trees and fallen weapons were around here, as if it were some crude burial site for warriors. Fitting, given how like a ghost the Stag appeared.

But there was a more sinister game afoot. In these parts was a den; the very one he called home. These lands were his feeding grounds, and terribly careful he was to ensure that all beasts within these lands knew it. This was no play area, and the very trees seemed darker and more knit together, perverted by the sweet taste of blood and the soil of flesh. The Taragael was leading Artemisnat to nothing less than a trap, one of which it would use to spring at the foreigner and devour it whole.

The stag entered the area slowly, muscles and bones defining themselves as its pace slowed to a mere stalk. It pressed to the center of it, where the pure white bones, picked clean long ago, matched its hide perfectly. It snorted softly as it stood amongst it, shaking its head once more and letting both ears twitch. Its large dark eyes watched for the meal, pawing at the ground lightly and with the same innocence a child utilizes. Like the wolverine, it had learned to rely on other methods of hunting.

Artemisnat trotted behind the great white stag, doing her best to keep up with it's pace. It was a speedy animal, being able to outrun her with ease. Every so often though, it would stop and the elf would gain distance on the animal. As she continually ran, beads of sweat broke out on her skin, the intensity and length of the run beginning to toll on her.

The woods seemed to be getting darker, and not just by sunlight standards. Artemisnat noticed that the direction the Stag was leading her in was increasingly morbid. Body's of travelers appeared every so often, half rotted by the base of some tree. This was the area where bears and wolves lurked, among scarier things. Artemisnat's own wolf, Garaphadon, would probably be around this part of the forest. She had sent the white beast out to hunt for it's food, trusting in the animal's loyalty to return. If something really bad happened, she could simply whistle and call his name, and the beast would be by her side in a minute. It was a close bond, far transcending that of a master and a pet.

Without her wolf by her side, Artemisnat felt somewhat vulnerable. She was armed with only a bow. She had no sidearm, though she could always jab with an arrow if need be. Who knew what kind of animal might try to harm her or the great white stag.

Her pace grew to a fast walk now, her body finally demanding that she slow down. Still, the White Stag would wait there patiently for her, twitching it's nose and pawing at the ground. The animal certainly had a majestic presence. It looked as if it had seen the many thing the world had to offer. It was fleet footed, and very cautious, perhaps resulting from unfortunate encounters with enemies. Overall, it was a very strange creature, and worthy of study, and trust, even as it led Artemisnat deeper in to a gloomy and macabre terrain. It was almost as if the creature had put a sort of enchantment on her, bewitching her to follow it.

As Artemisnat slowly walked towards the Stag again, she noticed that as she got closer, the animal did not start to move again. There was a pile at it's feet of something white. Was it snow? No... As Artemisnat got closer, she noticed a pile of fleshless bones resting at the feet of the snow white beast. It was eery, the close likeness of color between the bones and beast, yet Artemisnat was as of yet unaware of why.

The elf slowly approached the stag. She looked from the bones, back to the eyes of the stag.
"Beast, why you bring me here? You need protection? Want me to help you kill what make these bones? What it you want?" The elf was tense, the location, and general atmosphere, giving her goosebumps. It was unusual for the elf to be in such a state. Very rarely did she break out in a cold sweat, fear gripping her mind.

The animal backed slowly from her presence, as if an unseen barrier existed between them. Still it kept its eyes near her, though the wide eyes were quick to fall shyly to the ground. The Taragael's ears twitched faintly, subtle suggestions as it examined its environment, or perhaps swatted at a gnat drawn too close. When the Foreign One spoke the stag had already moved deeper within the boneyard, examining her from afar. Here did the remains change, no longer including the mere bodies of fallen humans but also of other deer, bear, and even the skull of some large cat. A few frames were indistinguishable, either through their own decrepit mess or because the skeletal frame of rare breeds like the mermaids were rarely to be seen, even in water.

Here too the earth seemed to wither, its hue the same as a dead carcass's flesh. It was a deep gray, which folded upon itself like a blanket and smoothly bulged in others. In some places the dreary shade had been pressed upon many times, leaving it a darker shade than the rest. In other places it rose high, like mock sand, and was instead a soft gray -- like a blind man's eyes, perhaps, or a rain cloud on a sunny day. The trees, knotted and gnarled as they were, left no semblance of their life, but rather a despairing feel of abandonment. As if the very breath within them had been revoked, leaving them as nothing but lifeless shadows.

Such a lack of colour was not pleasant in a place such as this, nor did it illicit an especially safe feeling. T'were it not the Taragael's feeding ground, it would have strayed from this chilling land as well. For now, though, it could focus on only one simple fact; food. Like one of the proud Four-Paw Hunters, his stomach gave a growl of bestial warning. The stag's tail twitched quickly from side to side, and it stroked one of its hooves over one of the white-washed skulls that sat just above the grimed earth. It was a gentle gesture, and the motion was painfully slow to ensure it didn't hurt the item. It would be cruel to break anything planted in His lands, dangerous even. What if He sought vengeance, and devoured the stag whole?

The animal gave a balk, leaping back and shaking its head. Then it crouched low, joints bent and head almost low enough to kiss the ground with its chin. Both ears flopped back and forth as it watched its prey, deciding on how best to kill it. It had seen the Foreign One in the waters; knew it was strong in a lake. Did it know that this was once a lake? Would it be able to move just as swiftly; with just as much power? There was no longer any water, but moisture still hung in the air, suspended. The grey muck was not uncommon of a near-toxic riverbed, either. The Taragael knew that the water had clearly been drunk by the greedy trees and blossoming Flesh-Trees, even if the only growth they showed were white skulls, and constantly he had to uproot them to make sure they didn't squirm away.

Both ears once more twitched, before being pressed tight against the small animal's skull. It gave an unsure noise, a timid sort of note that wasn't justified in any pitch or tone. Then it snarled, lunging at the Foreign One. However, not even part way through the crossing it transformed into a hideous beast. The momentum allowed it to carry the lunge through, though it wasn't nearly as nimble as it was before. No, now it was truly a twisted monster; befitting this grayed death-land and snow white skulls. Instead it looked more like the Foreign One, though twisted by some cruel joke and made into a horrendous sight indeed.

Its flesh was visibly receded in patches, revealing the top of Its back bone and entire right arm -- including the shoulder. The pitch white was perfect for this skull-land, though patches of muck dyed crevices within the bone to a black shade, sullying the pure bones. The only thing keeping Its left arm attached appeared to be pink sinew, the musculature gone from it as well. The hand looked distinctly human, with long nimble finger bones and three knuckles. From the way it was hanging limply, it was unlikely the beast had any feeling or movement capabilities with the arm whatsoever. The only reason it could move now was because of the momentum, as it free swung like a dead weight.

The right arm was completely different. Thick white fur matted with grease and mud soaked the arm, with powerful muscles that looked more akin to that of a bear or cougar. The hand was entirely bestial, with twin cloven claws and a thick thumb. The fur here was receded, though it looked to be natural; or as natural as such a grotesque sight might be called. With its recession was the revelation of thick and long black claws extending from the beast's digits. It was not likely it had lost sensation in this arm as well. The legs were in a similar bearing, with the left lower leg tapering into the thin and graceful length of a deer's, and the right a muscular form that fell into a human looking foot. It undoubtedly suffered a limp, the smaller left leg incapable of maintaining the bulky weight.

Besides that was of course its large head, which was entirely a skull. The working of throat muscles could be seen where the hair line receded at its neck. The beast's skull - now swinging wildly in an attempt to gore its prey -- was hardly the same as the lithe animal from before. It looked more akin to the elk's skull, with strong definition in the skull and a long muzzle. The eyes and nose holes were entirely empty orifices, and yet something about its mannerisms implied it wasn't wholly unaware of its surroundings. Small diamond shaped teeth seemed to inhabit the upper jaw at first glance, although upon further study it appeared rocks had actually been hammered in. Its lower jaw had smaller teeth and hung open, likely used solely as a means to tear at prey it could get its head over.

Over all, it was quite the gruesome sight; befitting this land. It was bulky, which would no doubt come as an advantage in the oncoming fight. Yes, fight. After all, it was rather clear the creature had all intents and purposes to devour the Foreign One and add its bones to Arasharoth's collection. The Taragael was unaware its pretty trees came from this brute, but likewise the creature knew not the Taragael tended to them as living things. They were merely there as viewfinder's for Arasharoth; after all, the rapid movement would undoubtedly lead the crushing of bones and skulls; they were littered too heavily to be greatly avoided. Through that sound the massive predator would be able to pinpoint its prey, and attack full force.

For now, however, the Food had a fast-approaching monster charging straight at her.