#faunly

[shannice-bishop]

Black pool, May 17.

[shannice-bishop]

Audrey May, photographed and styled by me

[shannice-bishop]

Bed head

[shannice-bishop]

July 24, my birthday in Mindoro

[shannice-bishop]

Audrey, 📸 by me

[memoryofrose]

A Late Visit

Rose hasn't returned to her home in about a week, normally she'd be frantic about leaving a guest there on their own. The faun hardly cares at this point, she's rather sick and tired from her ordeal. Kidnapping is never fun, especially when it's smack-dab in the middle of some passive aggressive posturing over parts of the forest.

Rose looks like a mess and she doesn't even have her shawl on anymore- someone had taken it and worn it as a hat for most of the last week. The hooved creature trudges out of the forest, at least her flock has a respectable guardian looking over them. Rose wonders what Jasper's been up to since her departure, it’s nearly evening already.

[memoryofrose]

Guest

Rose hasn't been expecting any company for some time. As an immortal, many things have come to pass for her and her kind. Fauns are beings of nature, not morality. Her home has taken root in a far flung little corner near the foot of a mountain and at the edge of a great wood. Her charges have been neatly tucked away for the evening.

The forest rests in a deep darkness, the stars overhead twinkle and glimmer. Above all else, the moon sits. Fat and bright like a giant mirror in the sky, the satellite shines. A lit lantern rests in one hand, she steps delicately over the gnarled roots of a tree.

Starlight can’t reach her underneath this canopy, and she can smell the bitter tang of blood in the air before she even reaches the creature. Rose gazes into the darkness and steps close enough that the light is cast across the strange figure, bloodied and battered. The faun sets it down on the flattest part of the root she can locate and lifts up the cloak, searching for the stranger’s face among the material. “Are you alive?”