The last of his spots fade from his hide, and still Zenyatta does not feel the earth as the others do.
His brother worries, but though he cannot join his peers in melting the last frost and breathing life into the earth, Zenyatta is ever the cheerful prince.
Some whisper of the unwoken son, an ill omen, a quiet, but it is only ever whispers. Zenyatta visits each of his kin in turn, helps forage, keeps them safe. He sings and spars and solves disputes in clever ways; his curious reasoning, mindful and long-sighted, never fails to bring peace and happiness to the deer tribe.
Cyberrat Writes 