The White Stag

Short, descriptive "essay" written for one of my college classes.

  The heavy thud of footsteps echoes throughout the sun-drenched forest. Flesh-toned, cloven hooves sink into the earth, softened into mud by a recent rain. Silky, spiraling white fur trail from the ankles of the beast, yet somehow stay that pure shade of snow. Slender limbs support its bulk, bending and stretching gracefully with each step. Massive in size, the creature moves in a way that seems impossible, light and airy.

It passes a cluster of red flowers, stirring the sweet scent of them. It pauses, briefly, flanks twitching when a stray leaf brushes against them. Its great mass shudders as it continues on its way, stray strands of white fur floating among the golden rays of light filtering through the tall trees. A long neck with a magnificent, white mane stretches above its shoulders, surveying the forest around it. Eyes a diluted shade of blue reflect shards of yellow from the sun, which has begun to set somewhere behind the beast. Pale blonde lashes frame the large orbs in the creature's skull, casting slight shadows on its cheeks. A pink nose huffs out warm air which frosts in front of its muzzle.

The beast's antlers expand from the crown of its head, spreading like the branches of an ancient tree. It appears as though it has never once shed its antlers, with moss growing on them, hanging down in strands of green. The bones are white, with a texture reminiscent of the bark of a birch tree.

The white stag carries himself with an aura of majesty, an air of royalty. It is almost eerie, the way the beast watches over the forest around him, his domain. His size is gigantic, larger than any normal deer. It's miraculous how he can navigate the tight spaces between the trees. He seems to be magical, certainly, with an all-encompassing presence. He stops moving altogether, muscles stiff and senses alert.

And then without a sound, his omniscient gaze swings towards me.