I awoke with the intention of making myself scarcely seen. I tripped carefully through the forest, my ears pointed alertly in all directions, attempting to find a place where I would not be bothered. I moved along the circumference of the pond – a pathetic choice in hiding places, and an obvious sign that I was sorely needing companionship, since the pond was always the most popular hangout – and yet, I was astonished to find it eerily abandoned. I listened more intently, and discovered the reason quite quickly – there was a rather large din being made some distance off; more violence. With a sigh, I found myself meandering in the direction of the clustered deer, wondering why I found myself so increasingly drawn to fights and scuffles, this way. Perhaps it is the mother in me, making me wait like a vulture for some injured fool to come stumbling out of the fray, so that I might rush in and nurse the poor dear to health and comfort his wounds. I hope it is this – I pray – and not some sinister part awakening, some lust for blood making it’s unwanted appearance.

I found first a little miniature deer – only a small amount shorter than I – who seemed absolutely disheartened at the sight before him. I inquired as to what in the world all of the noise was about, but my new companion was of little aid: and so I set about, instead, attempting to lift his spirits and encourage him to ignore the disturbance in the distance. We made a little party among ourselves, and were quickly joined by a quirky nameless deer, who seemed eager to be painted with the lavish pelt spells, but would only grow frustrated when they wore off.

After some time, I was startled and amazed to find my recently-made friend, the Hat Lady. I bounded toward her, my glee unsurpassed; and was started to find that she shrank fearfully from my good-natured greeting. Issuing a curt bow, the little doe sniffed me a bit, and then seemed to recognize me with a start. Still, she seemed in a low mood, and having brightened the mood of the little miniature, I decided to set about trying to cheer the Hat Lady, as well. It went well enough, until Hat Lady’s curiosity seemed to get the best of her. I felt that we began moving closer and closer to the wolfish snarls of the battling deer – but I did nothing to stop her from getting too close. My curiosity was nearly as strong as hers, at this point.

Eventually, we wandered close enough for me to make out a few familiar scents, and I wrinkled my brow in further confusion, wondering what in the world had gone wrong in the forest, as I slept.

And it was there that I found Enigma – tender, fragile Enigma – being tormented by two stags. Had the circumstances been different, I would have smiled affectionately and maternally, having found him in such a miserable predicament once again. I was not one to make judgements: perhaps Enigma had done something truly terrible to deserve such cruelty; but nor was I one to sit back and wait for the little trembling leaf to be impaled by the antlers of some cocky brute. Though the stag was too timid for me to have any sort of knowledge about him, I felt some sort of motherly affection for him – ever since freeing him from Walter’s torment, one day, I have harbored an adoring curiosity for the young one.

I broke into a swift run, aiming to place myself between my cowering companion and his curiously ferocious foes. I motioned for him to follow me, and stepped carefully out of the fray. Either picking up on my meaning, or having already formulated the same idea on his own, Enigma moved slowly and carefully after me, his limbs still quivering with excitement and fear. There I attempted to comfort him – but his nerves were sadly shot, and he was in no mood for comforting, no matter how motherly and gentle a countenance I attempted to put on. Enigma took flight, unconsoled, and I reluctantly left the Hat Lady – who had, mean time, become entangled in the brawl – in order to pursue the poor stag.

There are few deer who are able to outrun me – I am small, but nimble. Yet Enigma was expert at not only outpacing me a good deal, but also throwing me off of his trail via a variety of loops and swerves. After some time, I managed, panting, to locate him near the ruins. He stood, trembling, and shooed me anxiously away. I merely smiled in that nervous way of mine, and promised to let him alone. It was there that Hat Lady found me, nearly as breathless and flushed as I.

She seemed doubly depressed, and I found my heart sinking at the idea; knowing that I should have persuaded her away from the boiling mass of angry deer, in order to keep her spirits up. I tried to tell her not to worry, that it was just a silly mess which would be over in a very short time – but she cared little for my words of condolence; probably noticing with added fear, the doubt in my voice. We wandered a short distance; both being tired from our recent sprints, we could walk no further than the poppy field. There we sat for some time, before Hat Lady decided to say a sweet goodbye, and was gone.

And there I sat, alone. Another failed attempt at brightening the forest with my good intentions gone awry; and as I reflected on this, I began to drown further into my deplorable mood.