It is here where we are born, in the mists of the wood. The air is thick, heavy, and visions are blurred. All around us our shadows, enigmas who wrap around their newest affectionately. In the distance the sounds of water crashing into an ancient creek bed can be heard, ears afloat to all that they can capture. However, it is that sound that becomes the memorable tune that reminds us that we could just as easily been drowned beneath its waters. Though we never do drown, do we? All these forces keep us away from any death. Even in the depths of the darkness we succumb to as we slumber we live, never knowing why the flames never snuff out.

I knew such a birth for a moment. I awoke to strange sensations, sensations I knew when I first experienced life as one of them, but today I was not young. My legs were stout and my antlers long. I could feel the magic grasp onto me, always making this place aware of my presence. Things were not the same, though. My antlers no longer flickered with the flames of candles, my face no longer was hidden by the thickened callous of a skull, and my pelt could blow in the breeze as the wind whipped between the trees. Things were not right, and I was panicked.

With each leap I tried to get away from this strange body, and each time I fell with my hooves sinking deeper into the ground to remind me that escape was not so easy. It was through a shake of my head as I fought that I caught the glimmer of an ethereal stone. I could hear its trickle, and I remembered such sounds meaning water. Perhaps it was the solution to changing me back. As I crept forward I found the waters shallow, too shallow to throw myself into. As I looked down into it, I could see reflections of the sky…and of myself. It was the image of a sickening creature, one I had chosen to forget. In that reflection I was nothing. There was not even a feature to define me from the ghosts that often swept through the forest.

I came down to mourn, as if begging was my only way out. Sadly my face was not what it once was, and as I lowered down to pray I found my lips kissing the water lightly. I shot up, snorting and licking my lips to get it off. It was then I used a paw to swipe it away from my nose. Except I did not normally have paws, and I was not as white as snow. I could feel wetness and cold, and as I looked down I realized that I was nothing more than a bunny. I could not be fearsome as such a creature! What was I to do? Nibble at the heels of a ripe turnip? Oh yes, I would have vegetation cowering at my wet paws. Perhaps one day I could be king of the pine cones, as a bunny had nothing much more to aspire to.

It was humiliating, and I did not care to see humility in that moment. This place was cursed and I wished to get away. So I ran, crossing the threshold. There I changed back, the smoke of the transformation magic rising up behind me. Still, I was not normal. My body was now right, but my face and antlers were all wrong. I could not feel heat from candles, nor was there room for my face. It was being crushed beneath something I could attribute more to a baboon. The forest mocked me this day, and again I ran…back into the fountain’s ring. There I was nothing again. I was trapped. Outside I was hideous, and inside I was potentially able to turn into a bunny. My options were then limited at this point. For all I knew the pond carried such an evil trap. I was meant to curl up and die this day.

It was coming, I could feel it. The heaviness of death was unique. Unlike the darkness, the magic did not swirl about and lull me away. No, this held me down and shot through my body like a thousand daggers. Life here was a lie, and I could do nothing to tell anyone about it. Then nothing. I could not see, feel, or hear a thing. I was caught in a limbo that I could not comprehend. There was nothing that could be done to escape, and I conceded defeat much quicker than I would readily admit.

Then, as if by some sort of miracle, I could hear something. Water…water cascading down into a creek bed. I could feel myself curled up now, and my vision was blurry again. As I creakily rose, I felt a warm familiarity. It was me. I was me again! My cries of joy were hollow and empty, and as I shook my head hot wax tossed to and fro overhead. I was no longer a nothing, and especially no longer a bunny. As I dashed back to the ruins, my eyes did not keep themselves fixed ahead. Instead I kept an eye out for something that was only a dream. No fountain trickled near or far in this wood.

As I came to rest beside the mossy statue, I laid my head against it, feeling the cool softness atop my head. What strange comfort it always had brought to me. Here was my only everlasting friend of the forest, always waiting for me to return.

So long as you will wait for me, I will come. So long as you will wait for me, I will live.