A place for dreams.

The Hunter and the Hunt.  The wind rolls down the mountain and stirs the ancient trees of the forest, gracefully moving through the leaves in unseen patterns. It dips and rises, carrying with it a multitude of scents. Moving about, almost with a purpose, it reaches a point and descends once more. Down it goes towards a figure barely visible in the underbrush. The wind swirls around him and dissipates - all is still.   The hunter takes note of the oddity that has just occurred but does not allow this to distract him as he sees his prey in the distance. Stalking silently through the forest floor, he edges closer to the animal. He comes upon it in a sunlit clearing. A great stag standing tall and proud, horns expanding out elegantly. Knocking an arrow the hunter sights the creature.  Breathing in, he pulls back the drawstring. The stag’s ears twitch, the hunter releases the arrow, a wolf howls, the stag bolts, the arrow misses. Shaking his head in frustration the hunter gets up