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A doe, her body dark wth golden rays, walks through the Forest. Upon her head sweeping antlers, heavy with bloom, curve up to the sky. Her mask is a butterfly's voice that echoes the pain that she feels.
Plumeria comes to a patch of violets. They welcome her, and know who she is. Sun rays filter down through dense branches to illuminate soft dust motes floating about the violets. She stops and lays down within the flowers, her head on the ground, and stares into nothing.
"There was a deer," she says, speaking to no one in particular but the flowers. "A deer in the Abio. That deer looked exactly like Taint... It wasn't her but every time I looked at that deer I felt so... so... It hurt so much." She squeezes her eyes tightly. "The word 'Why' repeated itself over and over in my head..."
She lifts her head up and gently examines the petals of a violet with a delicate hoof. "Am I really nothing to her?" she asks the violets, and she tries to stop the tears but they come through anyways. "Does she care not for me? Not a thing? It can't be, can it? But her words... I... "
Large drops of sadness splash onto the violets, and they quiver from the salt. But Plumeria is oblivious as sobs rack her body.

At last, no tears are left. Feeling hollow, she gazes with half-lidded eyes at the violets. They seem to wrap around her to comfort her.
"Violets..." she whispers, "Why do I cry so much for one deer? What is this?"
Because, say the violets.
And Plumeria understands.

"Because I love her," she says, her voice surprised.
Suddenly exhausted, she lays her head down and falls asleep, lulled by the soft melodies of the violets.

~~~

A stag with a bright orange pelt wanders through the shady groves and trees of the First Forest. His face is kind, eyes bright through the eyeholes of his mask, and the poppies upon his tines are full of vigor.
He walks, and his steps carry a hint of heaviness. He walks toward the enormous, ancient tree that watches over all her sons and daughters, the Old Mother Oak. She is old, but she is proud. She hums a song of peace and life to all who live, and even to the dead.
Olive stops before the Old Mother. He bows deeply, and feels the sense of awe that he does every time before this ancient being.
"Old Mother," he whispers. "Old Mother, I have talked to the Weeper, and now I talk to you. Hear me, Old Mother..." He sighs, and pauses for a moment.
"You may know of a doe named... Nina..." he says, feeling a rush from the name.

"I... I love her."

He lays against one of the Old Mother's mighty roots, and the gentle vibrations calm him.
"I love her. That is all I can say. I would die for her. She is my life."
He closes his eyes.
"The Weeper says... the Weeper says she denies love towards me. Old Mother-" and his voice cracks.
The Old Mother listens, and waits for him to continue.
"But... but when we meet... I can feel... Oh, I do not understand... Is it false, then...? I cannot understand..." He chokes back the tears, and his poppies wilt slightly.

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