Daisies colored the ground until sunflowers took over, and falling leaves left no room in the subsequent take over. With dwindling sunlight hours, water jasmines reigned now. The swamp was quiet and calm, gearing up for winter festivities that would follow. Look-See held herself together tight, her tail wrapping around as to not get caught on spindly bare branches. The shushing of soft snow blanketed her steps until she found her path once more. Grace under fire, her eyesight sought a sparkling walking galaxy in the form of a spry, rotund doe. And she was stuck.
Lodestar cursed the stars that betrayed her. Divination wasn't a strong suit and it did not take a genius to figure out what would happen if a fun tumble occurred. With winter covering the land food was scarce, she was always hungry, the nights long, but she the extra bulk warmed her and sleep was a good way to pass the time. But here she was, stuck in the mud like the proverbial stick. She was a creature of habit and life was ironic like that. The further she struggled the deeper she sank. And with that followed understanding a feeling of despair. This wasn't mud and somehow nature did not run its proper course and there was a pit of sinking sand during winter in the middle of a freaking swamp. She was a guiding star no more. Stuck, sinking and pretty much dead, she flailed, counterproductive to the end.
Look-See heard the call of distress like any would be hero and what were Mares and Stags but envoys of the Crane? Coming to assistance of the doe, Look-See peered to the point of sticking her face a hairbreath away from Lodestar. Ascension did many things to change Look-See's body but her eyesight still faltered with calming regularity. The doe was stuck. Rearing back to gently detangle herself from further grainy encroachment, Look-See sat back on her haunches to think. Safe from any imminent danger, she started to dole out instructions.
A half hour later found both does sweating for different reasons. The air was scented with frustration and latent murderous intent. Rolling to a graceful upright position, Look-See continued her journey and with passing brevity granted the long suffering doe a blessing: May your brood have a better sense of direction than you.