The Writers' Circle

(Just in case your wondering, Vesper Nebulae means evengstar mists in Latin)

On the western edge of Braxton, near the running Dover Rivers, and nestled among the many snow-laden mountains, lay the mysterious Felton Forests. The forest seemed to shrink away from the dark and foreboding shadows of the powerful, gleaming mountains that surrounded them. The leaves upon the trees were beginning to change into shades of red and gold and as the wind blew threw them, they rustled as though they were anxious to be free of the tree's branches. A bird landed on a rock on the edge of the forest, whistling an unknown song until a young fawn approached, making a slight noise underfoot and causing the bird to take flight. The deer calmly grazed among the southern border of the forest, savoring the last of the sweet, juicy summer grass. Indulged in consuming its meal, the fawn unknowingly treaded deeper and deeper into the forest, paying no heed as to where it was headed. As the young deer descended  into the Felton Forest's depths, the light became more and more scarce, until she was finally blanketed by darkness. Mists swirled about the grounds, seeming to dance to a silent song. An eerie quiet enveloped the area as animals dared not to venture into the forests depths, and those who did stayed quiet, hoping not to stir up an unknown enemy. Among the darkness in the distance, a twig snapped, piercing the quiet of the forest and causing the young fawn to suddenly look up and inspect her surroundings. In fear, she looked about her, realizing she was desperately lost. Jumping to and fro among the arched trees, the deer looked about her, hoping against hope to find her way out of the suffocating darkness. As she frantically looked about her, a well-crafted arrow penetrated the air, breaking the silence of the forest, and found its way straight to the young fawn's heart. The entire forest seemed to hold its breath as from among the mists an immense shadow fell upon the dead fawn. Immerging from amongst the old trees, a beast of a man silently walked towards the carcass, seeming to take in the slightest amount of activity in the forest. Hanging his weapon upon the nearest tree, the beast bent over the deer and effortlessly slung it over his broad shoulders. His eyes darted towards every corner of the forest, inspecting his surroundings like an attack was expected at any moment, and then slowly turned and grabbed his bow and arrows from the gnarled branch of the old oak. Appearing to float across the ground, the man-beast turned back to where he had come from and descended into forest. In fearful silence, the few squirrels among the branches of the trees watched the man as he walked among the darkness of the forest. The beast carrying the carcass disappeared before their very eyes as he entered the mists; as the haze thinned, the little animals strained to catch another glimpse of the man who had killed their companion, but were dismayed and astounded when the only thing that met their gaze were the trees and darkness in which they had learned to live. 

	Still nothing; not a single bite. 
It was a crisp fall afternoon and a frustrated, fifteen-year-old Caiden Whimbell sat on a decaying log among the tall grass surrounding Gunnar's Pond. Having been out all morning running errands in town for his parents, he and his horse had been riding down the dirt road leading to his home when they had passed by the muddy pond. His horse was frisky from the brisk fall weather, and he himself did not feel like sitting inside an old barn when he had a chance to stay outside in the beautiful weather. After a short debate with himself, he had decided to stop and do some fishing, hoping that if he brought home a couple big, fresh fish his parents would find the heart to forgive him for being so late. 
	He had been sitting there for nearly an hour and still he had caught nothing. Gunnar's Pond was not known for its abundance of fish, but more for its muddy, dark water and moldy surface. Some had caught a few good-sized fish, but most who took the time to fish from this pond were sorely disappointed with the results. He had hoped he would be among the few to have a catch, but so far, his hopes had not been satisfied. Overall, he was content on just sitting there and basking in the sun's rays, though he was frustrated that he would have no peace offering to offer his parents to avoid their wrath. 
	He grunted as he changed his position so that he was sitting upon the cool grass and reclining against the old log. He looked about him, taking in the cloudless blue sky, red and orange trees, and a monarch butterfly flitting over the surface of the water in a single glance. He leaned his head upon the squishy, rough surface of the log and closed his eyes as a gentle breeze swept across his left cheek and played with the strands of his short, dark brown hair. 
	He forced himself to open his eyes as he heard Nugget whinny as though he sensed someone near. He glanced at the golden-colored horse, observing him prancing about and snorting in a nervous fashion. Nugget had been given to him as a birthday present from his father when he was only five. At the time, Nugget was but a foal and taking care of a horse at the age of five had been more responsibility than he had been ready for; but his father patiently instructed him until he died a year later. The horse's smooth coat was a deep, golden color; his mane and tale a creamy, glowing white. 
	Caiden looked at their surroundings, pondering why his horse was so agitated. When Nugget glued his attention towards the forests in the distance, Caiden turned about and stared intently into the darkness of the Felton Forest, continuing to wonder what his sensed. As he watched and listened, he became aware of a slight rustling among the underbrush, and, as he looked closer, thought he saw a huge body descending into the depths of the dreaded forest. 
	Nugget seemed to calm and begin to chew at the green grass at his feet as the form of the man disappeared from sight, but Caiden continued to look at the forest. Strange stories had always been placed around the forest and had become a place of nightmares for the citizens of Braxton, despite the fact that many of them had never step foot into the forest. A chilling darkness surrounded the perimeters of the forest and mists drifted out from among the trees, apperaing like an invisible fire consumed them. 
	A curiosity suddenly consumed Caiden as he thought of all the mysterious tales and appearance of the Felton Forests. He suddenly longed to know just what the forest was, why it was feared. He slowly stood and brushed the dust from his overalls. He glanced at his fishing pole, wondering if he should leave it; but then shook his head acknowledging the fact that he was not going to have a catch today. 
	He slowly and cautiously made his way towards the edge of the forest, deliberately placing his feet softly and silently upon the ground. He had covered half the distance that had been separating him from the forest when a squirrel scampered out of the forest and ran towards him. He looked down upon the squirrel, wondering if it was trying to tell him something as it swished its tail and scratched his nose. He decided against it and continued treading towards the forest until he reached its edge. He looked up at the tall, gnarled trees that made up the edge of the forest and gazed into its depth at the utter darkness and swirling mists. He tried his best to ignore the apprehension that was beginning to eat at him as he took a step into the Felton Forest. He began to grow confidence as he continued into the forest and nothing threatening had yet revealed itself. He made his way deeper in the forest, keeping his eye on where he had come from to make sure he could find his way out. He glanced to his right and saw a faint light emitting from among the trees, highlighting the soft haze that covered the forest floor. He made his way towards the light, becoming more cautious as he neared the clearing. He paused and listened into the opening; when he heard nothing, he breathed deeply and proceeded into the dim-lighted opening. Pushing the branches of a willow tree aside, his breath caught in his throat as he stepped inside. A familiarity swept over him although he had never before seen the place with his own eyes; he had only imagined a similar scene while he listened to his grandfather's stories of knights, princesses, and castles. An old willow tree stood to the far right, its branches extending so that it roofed the entire clearing and completely enclosed it like a protective covering. A tree stump, nearly as wide as he was tall, was sitting across from the willow. To Caiden, the stump seemed contented and relaxed as it laid there and took in the bit of warmth it could from the few soft rays of sunlight filtering in. New, brown mushrooms surrounded the old stump and a large boulder that stood a few feet away from him. Gray and white pebbles scattered the earthen floor like a cobblestone street; courageous blades of grass and bright daisies pushing their way through the hard surface. A few rays of sunlight had found its way through the dense branches of the tall trees and cast gentle spotlights throughout the clearing. Then the mists; there was a thin mist, of a white- gray color, that drifted silently across the haven. It would curl and sway, fascinatingly dancing as it slowly drifted through; it lazily moved about, giving the area a mysterious and magical feeling and adding further beauty to the scene. Caiden moved forward, continuing to allow his gaze to sweep around him, drinking the scenery in and trying to engrave into his mind the beautiful area that surrounded him. He moved towards the willow tree and sat upon a small rock that sat next to it. He lay back upon the old tree, shifting himself so that the trunk supported all of his weight. He closed his eyes and intently listened to those around him; enjoying the melodic chattering of the birds and slowly smiling when he heard some near-by squirrels passionately fighting for an acorn. A chilling wind blew through the clearing, hitting Caiden upon the cheek like particles of ice. He quickly sat up and looked around him, rubbing himself in an effort to warm up. He noticed nothing new except for a dragonfly resting upon the large boulder at the edge of the clearing.....