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The sunlight peeks through the trees, the ground seemingly glowing in response. The butterflies dance amoungst the flowers, their movements exaggerated, welcoming the return of Spring. The breeze is gentle, lightly kissing all that it comes into contact with.

Overall, it is a fairly normal first Spring day within the forest; except...

...it isn't.

One of the butterflies flutters through the air, laying itself on top of a deer skull laying on the ground. The skull itself is nothing out of the ordinary, save for one thing; a strange marking is engraved onto the forehead. A Celtic knot, a symbol of the many tales and heritage that sleeps within it; a symbol of the being who owns it.

Suddenly, the skull moves, and the butterfly quickly takes its leave, frightened by the movement. The ground itself appears to be coming alive; a mass of moss and plants, vines and flowers, begins to move. Slowly, but surely, the mass rises, and its true form is revealed; a large stag, beautiful and ancient, stands, letting the garland in his antlers cascade to the ground, the flowers within it full in bloom.

His body is covered with the healthy green of moss, small plants and flowers blossoming, enjoying the comforts of Spring's advent. Carefully, gracefully, he stretches, his muscles creaking like trees whose branches are swaying with the wind. A rough shake of his head showers petals onto the ground, like a thrown bouquet at a wedding.

His eyes, emerald and pure, glance upwards towards the sun, as the light shines down on his tall, built form. He is a sight to behold, a figure of 300 years past - 300 years of walking, sleeping, and waking in an endless cycle of existence. He has seen and heard much, he has experienced and felt much; and yet, each Spring feels like a new life, a new chance to take in everything around him.

He sighs deeply, the sound of tired plants just waking from a Winter slumber. He looks around him, letting the sights and scents of the Forest move through him, reminding him of what is now, and what is to come.

He feels a presence nearby, and he turns his head to see a group of fawns simply standing there, their mouths hung open, not quite sure how to close. Moments before, it was just a clump of moss garden, with a deer skull attached to it. For the longest time, it had never moved, and the fawns thought nothing of it.

But now...it was a creature they had never seen before, almost godlike in his appearance.

Was he a god? they pondered. His size and stature seemed to suggest such. But before any of them could even utter a word, he began to move, slowly, deliberately, just as he always had in his life; he was in no rush for anything. Time was eternal, and that was how he liked it; slow, easy, methodical. Everything was bliss for him.

One of the fawns began to follow him, the others not too far behind. They couldn't understand what was causing them to do so; the only thing they knew was that they were walking with someone, something, that captured the true nature of magic, that captured the true nature of beauty, that captured the true nature of the Endless Forest.

Nechtan feels them following him, but he is not concerned; they are children of the Forest, precious and pure. He smiles to himself as they seem to fall in place with him, suddenly bouncing and giggling, feeling a certain air of joy that they can't place.

At last, after months of sleeping and waiting, sleeping and waiting...

...he has awakened to grace the Forest with his presence once more.