

The Fawn
“Tell me a story, grandpa,” Whispered Charlotte. The air was cold, colder than the first frost, perhaps even colder than winter itself. But that did not stop an upbeat fawn from prancing across the cold winter landscape. Her eyes were bright with wonder, welcoming the still, picturesque world that unraveled before her. Ivory trees swayed to the soft melody of the forest and conserved their remaining energy for the nighttime. Sleep clouded her bright eyes as the forest embrace