The Birch was silent in its commotion. You did not hear the birds fly, nor the squirrels scurry through the underbrush. You hear the birdsong, but muffled and distant, as if on an old radio spilling static along with music in to puddles on the floor.

The doe moved much the same way as birdsong, with a muffled silence. Her eyes scanned the clearing for any rushing beings, before dampened footfalls hit the moss and shoved the grass aside like a person on the sidewalks of a bustling city with somewhere to be. Her eyes darted back and forth as she stopped to sniff the air around her. Evening, as the sun cooled down, could mean deer rushing by to their beds or out in to the twilight world.

He had taught her that.

The doe smiled inwardly, mostly because she could hardly make such an expression outwardly with her new face. She had not seen Him since she became as he was, with a real face as his was. But now was not the time to be nostalgic, mostly due to the fact that she should be watching around her.

She pricked her ears and held them high, two fans on her head acting as satelite dishes to capture sound. Squirrel, mouse, dove, crow,nothing out of the ordinary. Another step brought only the scent of the moss compressed under her hooves. The doe bent forward, tasting the soft greenery. Finding it palatable to her new tongue, she nipped bite after bite. Water from the mosses quenched her dry throat as she chewed it from the moss before swallowing the saturated lump of plant matter.

Stomach satiated, the doe raised her neck abruptly to scan the golden world around her. She swiveled her ears this way and that to catch sound, closing her big eyes in an attempt to heighten her hearing and scenting senses. It was quite difficult to catch His scent, when he smelled so much like this forest in which He lived.