BurntAcorn

I once knew a man who travelled to the corners of the world... He had tales of winter and summer and spring and autumn, tales of sadness, tales of happiness, tales of joy and pride and emotion. Though the things about this mans tales, was the clarity he evoked in your head when he told the tales. He observed the smallest details of everything, the black dots of ants crawling after one another following pheromone trails, the cicadas calling for mates in the gums, the smell of wood-smoke in the twilight air. Of spiders spinning their intricate webs of mystery, off the rain-gems of sunlit water on the silk, the drooping rose lifting its head

Today, a deviant caused me some grief. They blocked me because, I watched them. Not sure if there is something I am missing, but I am relatively sure Deviantart is designed for being watched by people, and not blocking them because they like your artwork. Too bad if I was an art developer who was looking for talented artists, good thing for them, I wasn't.

Whispers of cold breath caress her face, Strands of her gold silk hair sway in the breeze, Eyes like the Aurora Borealis, mysterious and beautiful, Reflect the tendrils of creeping night. At twilight she stalks, through the ferns, The drops of evening rain on her brow, Leaves crack and smoke under her feet as she passes by, And starlight falls as she shows her face. Her prey runs wild with fear, Adrenaline in her veins, Like fury and fire in her blood she leaps, Teeth of white crack on bones. Feasting