HOME | DD

Description
...And seven and a half hours before the New Year, a miracle happens.
An old wooden sleigh is brought into the yard and someone's skillful hands carefully shake off the dust and debris. Garlands and tinsel are hung around the house with the speed of a flying owl, the decorated Christmas tree starts flashing blue lights. Laughter, pre-holiday noise and merriment are all part and parcel of the preparations. But the feeling of someone else's absence bothers me in a very tangible way.

The fragrant smell of gingerbread, tangerines and pomegranate juice tickles my nostrils pleasantly. Laughing after another joke, I complain about the lack of fresh air, and on that pretext I decide to leave our shelter temporarily.
Quietly snatching an apple from the table, I slip out of the house through the ajar door, pulling my hat over my ears as I go. The clamor and music fade as I step onto the lantern-lit path.

Snowflakes swirl in a slow, frosty waltz. It's pitch black upstairs, no matter how much you peer between the roof and the tops of the pine trees. Heavy clouds having covered the sky in the afternoon, giving the mood a somewhat uncertain tone.
- Hey, kid, I see you've got a little problem, huh? - Salem's cheerful voice was unmistakable. I shrug and turn off the path, fumbling for an apple in my jacket pocket.

The black boots don't look like skis at all.

I realize this quite accurately when I fall into the snowdrifts about knee-deep, scooping up snow and waving my arms absurdly. Slowly exhale a small cloud of steam and slowly round the corner of the house, trying not to give in to the urge to turn back.

- You didn't even remove the... Lergo, are you going swimming in the ice hole?

The cat's laughter gives me goosebumps and chills down my legs, but the picture that opened up was indeed noteworthy.

- ...? I see a beautiful deer in front of me, and I'm a little perplexed.

- Neither do I. But, you know. Maybe he's had enough reindeer oats! - Salem laughs at her own assumption, - Like, "Don't drink from a puddle, you'll become a goat"... That sort of thing.

I look thoughtfully at the newly minted horned one, omitting the comment about the lack of "deer oats" in nature. Horses like oats, that's understandable, but what do deer eat?
Or would Lergo in the guise of a deer eat all the same things he normally would?
Is it possible to consciously give up cabbage, being a goat named Ivanushka? Wrong question.
The silence of the deer and the snorting of the cat is such an answer.

Fresh snow crunches under his hooves, and Lergo twists his head around, trying to see those prickly but unusual antlers. He pokes his wet nose in my face like a cat, shoves it in his pockets, and snorts, mimicking Salem.
Things are slowly falling into place in my head.

I'm smiling.

Snow crunches underfoot, an apple crunches in the deer's mouth.
The bells on the harness ring quietly.

(Sorry for the mistakes, i'm using a translator)
Art and story with my OCs (2023)

Description
...And seven and a half hours before the New Year, a miracle happens.
An old wooden sleigh is brought into the yard and someone's skillful hands carefully shake off the dust and debris. Garlands and tinsel are hung around the house with the speed of a flying owl, the decorated Christmas tree starts flashing blue lights. Laughter, pre-holiday noise and merriment are all part and parcel of the preparations. But the feeling of someone else's absence bothers me in a very tangible way.

The fragrant smell of gingerbread, tangerines and pomegranate juice tickles my nostrils pleasantly. Laughing after another joke, I complain about the lack of fresh air, and on that pretext I decide to leave our shelter temporarily.
Quietly snatching an apple from the table, I slip out of the house through the ajar door, pulling my hat over my ears as I go. The clamor and music fade as I step onto the lantern-lit path.

Snowflakes swirl in a slow, frosty waltz. It's pitch black upstairs, no matter how much you peer between the roof and the tops of the pine trees. Heavy clouds having covered the sky in the afternoon, giving the mood a somewhat uncertain tone.
- Hey, kid, I see you've got a little problem, huh? - Salem's cheerful voice was unmistakable. I shrug and turn off the path, fumbling for an apple in my jacket pocket.

The black boots don't look like skis at all.

I realize this quite accurately when I fall into the snowdrifts about knee-deep, scooping up snow and waving my arms absurdly. Slowly exhale a small cloud of steam and slowly round the corner of the house, trying not to give in to the urge to turn back.

- You didn't even remove the... Lergo, are you going swimming in the ice hole?

The cat's laughter gives me goosebumps and chills down my legs, but the picture that opened up was indeed noteworthy.

- ...? I see a beautiful deer in front of me, and I'm a little perplexed.

- Neither do I. But, you know. Maybe he's had enough reindeer oats! - Salem laughs at her own assumption, - Like, "Don't drink from a puddle, you'll become a goat"... That sort of thing.

I look thoughtfully at the newly minted horned one, omitting the comment about the lack of "deer oats" in nature. Horses like oats, that's understandable, but what do deer eat?
Or would Lergo in the guise of a deer eat all the same things he normally would?
Is it possible to consciously give up cabbage, being a goat named Ivanushka? Wrong question.
The silence of the deer and the snorting of the cat is such an answer.

Fresh snow crunches under his hooves, and Lergo twists his head around, trying to see those prickly but unusual antlers. He pokes his wet nose in my face like a cat, shoves it in his pockets, and snorts, mimicking Salem.
Things are slowly falling into place in my head.

I'm smiling.

Snow crunches underfoot, an apple crunches in the deer's mouth.
The bells on the harness ring quietly.

(Sorry for the mistakes, i'm using a translator)
Art and story with my OCs (2023)