Somewhere between this world and the next, in a realm of endless darkness where the souls of the dead gather, a young whitetail buck sat alone. A frown graced his muzzle as he gazed listlessly through the fog that blanketed the dark forest.

Not far a great stag, the ruler of this realm and the guider of souls, watched the young deer from the shadows. His face bore no expression but he felt a bit melancholy, perhaps almost pitying. He wondered time and time again why the whitetail had yet to pass on, choosing, instead, to linger in this dark place. Even if the young deer had told him many times his reasons he still couldn’t quite understand.

With a snort, the stag stepped into the open and came to stand next to the young deer. “Why do you still linger, Sky?”

The young whitetail glanced up at the large stag, “I’ve already told you. I'm watching over my brother.”

“Why?”

Sky sighed, “I…I want to protect him. It’s only fair, he protected me and so I want to return the favor.”

The great stag shook his head, “You cannot protect him forever.”

“I can try.”

“You seem melancholy today.”

The whitetail looked away and heaved a sigh. “I’m just lonely. This forest is so…empty and dark. I want to escape from it, even if for a little bit.”

“You have tried?”

“Many times. Nothing has worked.”

A smile crept across the stag’s muzzle, “Perhaps you have not tried hard enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Perhaps…the conditions are not quite right yet. Wait a little and maybe you will be able to escape someday.”

Sky blinked and tilted his head a little. “Conditions?”

The stag turned and started to walk away into the fog, “You are a bright deer, Sky, you will figure it out in time.”


Sky pondered over the stag’s words then slowly, an idea began to form. “The rain is the key,” He said quietly to himself.

Distant thunder rumbled, it would not be long now…soon he would be able to escape.

~

Sky opened his eyes and squinted against the bright sunlight. He raised his head and looked about himself, the darkness and the fog that he had become accustomed to was gone. The deafening silence was replaced by the chirping of birds and distant calls of other deer. Somehow, the whitetail buck had done it. He’d escaped.

He raised his head and breathed in deeply, the scent of poppies and rain filled his nostrils. How he had missed the scents of a forest. Sky lurched to his hooves and glanced down at himself. He was surprised to see that he looked like any other deer, he’d almost half expected to be transparent. The only real difference was his lack of a scent and odd numbness to the world. Sky could not feel anything, not the brush of the wind or the cold nip in the air, nothing.

But Sky didn’t care. All that mattered to him was that he was free.