In the cold and the quiet, with the cicada song humming in the air, there is a doe. She is cold and quiet too, but there is something like gentleness on her face, something like compassion in her eyes. Head tipped forward, her eyes seem to be focused far away, glowing from beneath a sweep of hair. Perhaps, out in the distance, she sees a fond memory, something glimpsed from behind a veil of hazy dust and honey light.But here beneath a floral tree that smells sweet and distant, of the old and the melancholy, she stands and high above the stars are winking.
hybridic
Sorry I never responded to you! I meant to get this to you right away~ Q___Q
Hopefully this is okay!
Hopefully this is okay!
