He wasn't a young deer no more. Time had molded his simple frame into that of a well worn traveler. He never settled, always moving, always trying to find his way back to the only place he knew as home.

The forest never beckoned to him. It left no markers of it's existence on the gray world he had stepped into. No secret doors, no hidden stairwells, no paths lined with golden flowers by the Gods.

And this was his task. Simple enough as it was. He alone would have to find the forest. If he could convince the magic that slept beyond the veils of reason then his hooves might once again grace the ageless grass he yearned for. He would never know what he did to please them. He would never understand why he left. He knew of home. He knew of signs and symbols. He knew of masked deer and frolicking fawns. Flower crowns and whispering reeds.

One day he found his long way home.

He found The Endless Forest.