The small deer trundled through the forest, unaware of anything besides his own discomfort, and the giant rock that awaited him. His sister was not present, and she was worrying him. If he could not find her soon, it would not be fun for any of them, sadly.

"Where in the blazes has that wretched deer gone to?" Standing on the grassy knoll overlooking where his stone sat to make him endure torment for another thousand years. He swallowed. He got a yearly break every thousand years, but it helped him very little. The gods could not forgive him the way they could anyone else. He was too cruel, too shame-filled. He could not let go, and yet fought against himself. He trotted onward, unaware of everything else.