The buck races toward something calling him. It is a gentle calling, but he hurries, as if he had been kept from answering for a long time. Birds follow him as he makes his swift path to his calling.
The calling stops as he arrives at a tree. The birds that followed him join their family in the tree branches above, filling the tree with the sweet chime of their songs. The buck comes closer to the tree, sensing the gravity of it's width, the strength of it's heartwood, and the age of it's wisdom. He draws strength from it's presence. Nine feathers from the birds above fall gently through the air, coming to rest at the buck's hooves. Each seems to contain the notes to the birds' songs, each a different tone.
The buck lays down in the warm waters and the tangle of the tree's roots.