She was once a true love of mine. (Tuna)

(For maximum effect, please play music before beginning)

I haven't seen a soul dressed like this since I was born. Why is that skull thing such a big fad? Why isn't it this big tribal mask, the one that stands up and yells, Look at me?

The forest, being where it was, had already grown warm with the promise of summer. The cicadas once more took their place in the long grass, quite a few already launching into their droning hum. A black-and-white doe lay on the muddier terrain, breathing deeply in sleep over the rippling water of the river. The area was quiet, and peaceful. Until, however, a stag’s deep belling echoed over the expanse, and her ears pricked, followed by her neck craning upward to look about.

It’s so hot.

She shook her head to clear it, sending feathers shaking wildly, and hauled herself to her feet with difficulty. The sun beamed down on her ash-toned back, spotting it in light and radiating warmth throughout her body. The doe smiled under her mask. These were the glory days of the forest – while some wished desperately for weather changes, that brought variety and so-called ‘enjoyment’, it was when the temperature was that of a fire’s glow that she found herself most content.

But then there was the matter of her fur. Caked in dried mud and quite disagreeable. The creek was too narrow here to wade in – testing her leg shortly and finding it mostly fine, the long-legged hind took off at a canter, taking her time to feel the breeze wind over her skin.

The water’ll be cold.

Slowing within a short time, she snorted appreciatively as the crystal blue of the Pond came into view behind the willow trees. However, the narrow holes in her mask did not allow her to catch sight of the blue-furred creature that stopped just behind her. Only when she called, “Hi there!”, did Tuna turn her head and catch sight of Kaoori, smiling cheerfully with a fawn in tow.

“Hey, babe!” the first called out wryly. Kaoori’s shining pelt gleamed as she trotted over, the fawn following timidly behind her. It was the first time they had met in the forest, and Tuna bowed sweepingly, grinning under the large red mask. Kaoori followed with a daintier curtsy, then looked to the fawn, quipping “This is Tuna. She’s a friend of my friend. She’ll only bite you if you get too close.” The domino-colored female laughed loudly, and the fawn bowed, seeming slightly nervous despite their jovial nature. “Hi. I’m Amazon.”

The small infect us with their youth. It’s a good thing.

They continued their chattery journey to the pond, laughing and talking idly, Amazon running ahead to examine the tree at the water’s edge. Tuna’s heavy fur ached for the cool water, and she trotted straight to it, sloshing in until it was up to nearly her belly. Kaoori kept in the shallows, taking a sip or two, trying not to be splashed too much as the other soaked off the grime that had covered her in her sleep. When Tuna stood again, she smiled and chimed, “Much better.”

“Look, Kaoori! Magic!”

The fawn’s eyes were alight, and he bucked and leapt, overly anxious for the two does to charge from the water and meet him. It took only a few moments for an energetic game of tag to start, flashes of golden light bringing changes to all three with amused laughter.

It wasn’t long before her leg started to protest, and she excused herself with a bow, slinking up to Twin Gods Hill. A silent being was seated on one side of the monument – she took a place on the other, breathing, but making no other noise. The landscape laid out below her like an illustration in a book.

They’ve changed. But this hasn’t. That thing called time – it won’t happen here.

The cicadas sang on.