


It is raining. The sound of the drops is so relaxing. The scent of the wet deers is floating in the whole forest. Yzen walks quietly on the wet ground, soften by the wet fallen leaves.
He first goes pray the Gods, bowing his head to the floor. His muzzle softly touches the ground: humid and cold. Then, he walks to the pond. The rain makes music in the water, tip tip tip.
Frogs are jumping all around the pond and there are some deers who are laying under the trees. Yzen is now laying with them.
No one is making noise. They all listen to the sound of the rain on the pond. Only the frogs dare to disturb this quiet moment.
Yzen finally walks to the playground. The rain's sound is different here, on the rocks of the playground. He listens carefully to this music, to remember it well. He wants to be alone for a moment. The forest is opening its places to him. He walks slowly between the trees, letting the rain on his body.
It's not a good day to cast magic. It's a lazy day, to listen to the magic of the forest. Just listen.



Yzen is walking through the forest. So wonderful. Suddendly, he hears some hooves striking the ground, tagada, tagada, tagada. A black and white deer emerges from the forest, running in the sunshine. Tagada, tagada. His hooves make him flying, he runs fast, he runs well, and Yzen doesn't know where he is going so fast.
Yzen begins to run too. He runs, following the running deer. Woaw, this speed... They run together, through the forest, without any goal. Trees, leaves, trees again... They jump over the river, running around the pond. An other deer, a brown one, with a mask, comes and runs with them. They go through the forest, jumping over the playground. Hey lazy people! Come and run!
Even the fawn with he was playing, a few minutes ago, starts to run. They are now four to run without goals, but just to hear the sound of their hooves over the floor. Trees and landscapes slide fast all around them. This freedom... It's so great! They want to run and run and run again, to the sky!
Nothing to stop them, nothing to end the race against... the race against anything i suppose. Or maybe the race against lazyness, against being tied, against the time which makes us old. They areyoung, they are free and they run through the forest.