Once there was a deer. He was not a young deer, having come of the age where he could grow antlers, but he was not an old one either. The deer always stuck with his pack as they nibbled on leaves by quiet brooks in the depths of the forest. Life was peaceful and average.
That is, until one day when two deranged, rabid coyotes crossed paths with the herd of deer. Every doe and stag ran away from the vicious, diseased beasts, and the deer (the one this story is about) found himself in a part of the forest he had never seen before. He looked around, hoping he could find a way back to his family, but the direction from which he came smelled like the coyotes and he had no way of knowing which was his friends had gone. So he wandered for a while, hoping he could come across some way home.
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