As I returned to my idol, the poppy flowers brushing across my body, tickling my nose, touching my soul, I realize that the smell of this world is different from before. My eyes have opened to a place I barely remember, a place where scarcity has grown into a plentiful bounty. Fawns have become deer, and deer have become older deer. I have become older. As I stare out at the horizon I realize that there is one thing that has not changed. The view ahead of me is still lonely, still cold. To find warmth in this place is hard, and I am lucky to have found it in the idol. I curl around it like a cat curls by the fire, finding comfort in what never changes or goes away. It will always be here for me, and I for it.
As I looked to the empty horizon, I found my gaze shifting, changing away from the distances they were so used to focusing on. A world up close to me became clear, the fuzzy blobs of colors forming into trees, animals, and one other deer. I had been asleep in the dark world for so long that I had forgotten the contact of others. My approach was awkward, legs fumbling and hooves clicking as they overreached. My mask that always felt to firmly placed on felt as if it were slipping. The blurry background spun around me, making my path like that of an erratic bee. Then, like a drop upon water, my world was interrupted and all fell clear. I bowed, head tilted in a wonder for this deer. Dare it accept that which still smells like the stench of darkness?
