You make a case for considering your place in the forest, the world, and your own life, but the deer wants to hear nothing of it. It tells you that your place in life is to be a thing that is born and then dies and rots. That is all there is to anything.

Birth.

Trying not to die.

Death.

That is all.

Convincing yourself that you have a place anywhere in the world outside of that sequence of events is foolish and a complete waste of time. The deer laughs. You think you see smoke come out of its ears, but you are imagining things. It asks you what you are staring at.

You choose to…

• …ignore the deer.
• …tell the deer there is more to life.