Magical Meadows of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Chapter 1

Bambi smiled softly and sighed happily as he stared up toward the top of the tree.

It was the tree his mother had loved so much, which in turn brought out love for it from his heart as well. He sighed in blissfulness once again as he lay down on a soft patch of grass at the base of the roots and thought back to his mother's thoughts about the tree. She once told him the story, as he fell asleep one night, about how it was the tree where she and his father had met.

She had been travelling with her pack but got distracted by a grove in the woods, out of the side of the meadow that looked odd. She wasn't sure what it was, but something about the open space in the trees, where Bambi now laid, just sent shivers along her spine. She sneakily broke off from the group and snuck into the opening to investigate. She inspected the one large tree in the very center, sniffing every root, and eyeing every inch of the bark.
The branches seemed as if they had grown straight upwards, though they were still separate from the trunk. They had simply just grown along side it, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Bambi's mother told him she was just about to leave, finding nothing of true interest when suddenly the most amazing looking stag she'd ever seen showed up out of nowhere. He had mighty horns and was built better than even the alpha from her pack. She dipped her head at him and he did the same. They loved each other from that day, until a hunter got to Bambi's father.

At least, a hunter is what she'd said had happened to him, until just before her passing. Just then, before she died, she beckoned Bambi to lower his head so she could whisper something to him. She didn't tell Bambi much. All she said was that he'd had a terrible secret, and couldn't be there for him. She didn't get the chance to tell him the secret, or even where he could find his father. So Bambi decided to set out on the quest to find his remaining family. But he didn't go far, because he would so often break down in tears and then run back to the tree.
Today was different though. It wasn't crying that brought him back to the tree. It was coldness. He freaked out horribly when it happened. The young Deer was walking in the woods toward the hunters' village when suddenly he wondered what it was like to be a hunter. Before he knew what was happening, his fur had disappeared. He shivered and fell into the snow, his naked body slipping on the slipperiness. He stared down, Horrified at the gruesome sight of his black, proud hooves turning into the pale, boney, tentacles that held the machines which the hunters used to killed. He tried to bray, but what came out sounded more like a cry of one of the wounded humans.
"No… No! I want to be me again! Turn me back!" He shouted. He'd hung out near the hunters enough that he'd picked up on the language. To his mother's horror, he sometimes used to go into town and force himself to learn to read, and also he would watch their picture boxes through the windows on their houses. His English wasn't perfect, but good enough for him to be able to say what he wanted. Before he knew it, his hooves and fur and body were all back as quickly as they had appeared. He didn't cry, he didn't freak out any further, he just ran to the tree he knew so well and lay down, to reflect upon the terrible secret his father and mother had held from him until now.