[Sorry if I don't get the Collector's personality exactly right, but this is worth a shot]
A year has passed, and he had learned so little. Blixt still walked around, looking for something,
anything, to spark his memory. He had restless nights, his head was always cluttered, and he was starting to hate the looks that other deer gave him.
He sat by one of the willow trees near the pond, looking down at his own reflection in the water. "Why can't I remember?", he constantly asked himself. Why couldn't he remember the doe he loved,
the fight with his rival, the fall that nearly killed him...those memories were so distant in his mind, and yet he had the slightest clue about them. He
knew he had a past, but couldn't seem to
remember...
"The beginnings of the decent to madness...", someone spoke nearby, "...a beautiful sight to see firsthand."
Blixt was startled and stood as a creature stared at him, several faces hanging from his antlers. A skull of a head stared back at him, the eyeholes were as dark and deep as the moonless night. Blixt mustered his confidence, but deep down, the Collector had awoken some primal fear.
"I'm not going insane if that's what you're suggesting.", Blixt said as calmly as possible (though the Collector could tell by his voice that he was frightened).
"Oh? Then why do you linger here?", the Collector asked.
Blixt relaxed a little, "I...", he tried to say, but fell deep into his own thoughts. He wasn't even sure himself. He stared at his own face in the pond, no answers coming to him.
"Foolish one, the answer you seek is right before you.", the Collector said, approaching the water and looking at his own reflection. "Perhaps you should look at your true face."
Blixt shook his head, "This is my true face.
