The wind was dancing among the branches of oak, birch, maple, and a few stray pines. The trees swayed together to a tune only they could hear. Abram didn't remember walking into the woods, especially not at night without a flashlight. Even though the moon was full and could be glimpsed between passing clouds, Abram knew he should not be able to see everything so clearly in the dark.
A possum was digging in some fallen leaves for bugs or if lucky a lizard. Raccoons were groping in the stream for mussels and crawfish. And there was a deer peacefully drinking as a trout swam quickly by. A dream, Abram should have realized sooner. There was something familiar about this forest, about this dream. The wind suddenly stopped blowing through the branches.
The denizens of the forest grew still and silent. Abram's heart seemed to slow as he took in the change that had crept over the forest. The possum glared red-eyed at him. The raccoons sat up from their work watching him. The deer now stood like a sentinel staring straight at Abram. It was only now that Abram saw that it was a stag. The moon was framed in the stag's massive antlers. Abram did not remember the deer being so large. The beast's head rose above his own 5' 11" frame. Years of backpacking, hiking, and canoeing had sculpted Abram's body until it was lean and hard. His straight black hair hinted at his mother's Cherokee blood, while his green eyes spoke of Abram's father's Irish heritage.
The stag snorted, his breath visible in the fall night like twin steam engines puffing their exertion. Stomping loudly at the ground, the stag suddenly bolted deeper into the woods, the whitetail beckoning Abram to follow. Legs pumping, Abram chased after the animal. Often loosing site of the stag only to hear it crashing ahead, Abram struggled to keep up. His lungs crying in protest, Abram stopped to catch his breath. The forest was silent. Abram could not see or hear any sign of the mighty stag. Closing his eyes and holding his breath Abram strained his ears for any sound that might betray the location of the beast.
Abram never questioned why he ran after the animal. In the dreamland one just does not ask such things. When the Faerie Godmother tells Cinderella that she must return before midnight or she will be turned into a pumpkin, does Cinderella ask, "How come?" No, because the Faerie Godmother would retort, "Well if that is how you want it, then tell me 'how come' there is a Faerie land?"
A loud snorting broke the silence. Abram quietly made his way between trees toward the sound. As he rounded a large rock outcropping, Abram saw the mighty stag. He waited impatiently for Abram, first staring at Abram then turning to look at what appeared to be a clearing further ahead. As Abram came to the animal he reached out to stroke its fur. The stag's muscles tensed and flexed under Abram's hand. Snorting, the stag brushed its nose against Abram's shoulder. Nudging Abram toward the clearing, the stag seemed excited and anxious for Abram to enter it.
As Abram drew closer to the clearing, he noticed the many ancient looking oaks, which formed a perimeter around it. The massive trunks and full branches seemed to be hiding or protecting whatever lay within the clearing. The light of the full moon cast an unnatural light within the clearing, yet Abram could not see within the sentinel of oaks. Touching one of the oaks, Abram's skin tingled with energy. He jerked his hand back looking up into the oak's branches, which spread out into the stars of the autumn night sky. Pausing for only a moment, Abram boldly stepped into the clearing.
Blinding white light burned his eyes. Abram blinked furiously and tried to focus as the sun shone into his bedroom. Morning, his skin warmed by the sun, Abram fought to hold onto the fleeting images of his dream. Clumsily he grabbed for the pad and pencil he kept on his nightstand. Quickly jotting down images and thoughts before they escaped into the fleeing dreamland of his subconscious.