"My name is Basil…"the hare began.
"Hi, Basil," chorused the group around him.
"…and I suffer from an identity crisis. You see, all my life I've acted like a hare, pawfighting and stuffing my face and all that, but I've always wanted to be something more, you know?"
"We understand, Basil," said Abbot Mortimer reassuringly. "The first step is admitting you have this problem. Now, when did it begin?"
"Well," the fidgeted in his seat, fiddling with his whiskers, "when I was young, me mom and I lived in the forest all alone. She was a bit odd herself, always being in trances and making magical potions and that stuff. I'm sure that there were some green things she ate that weren't grass and herbs, if you catch my meaning, wot. Anyway, I always felt like I was letting her down or not being an ideal hare for her, since she always put me down and pushed me around. I always wanted to be something bigger, stronger, faster.
"One day, I was out around our little hole, and I saw a great herd of deer prancing through our forest. I'd never seen the great buggers before, and I was enchanted with 'em! I loved those big bucks, especially, with their spanning antlers and swift hooves, and I even got a little teary-eyed seeing the mothers lookin' after their fawns.
"Ever since that day, I knew that was what I wanted to be. I made little antlers out of sticks and tied 'em to me head and would prance around. 'Course, I only did it when no one was watching; they'd think me a fool. Me mom never saw me, but I never felt so run down any more. If she ever got on me nerves, I knew I could just go out and put on me little antlers and pretend I was the biggest animal in the forest and she couldn't do any-bally-thing she could do about it!"
"Basil, we feel for you that you had a rough childhood," commented the abbot. "Did this identity mix-up ever lead you to trouble?"
"Well, once. Though me mom was always rough on me, I knew not to fight back 'cause she was twice as big as me and I was a wee shrimp. Well, one time she says to me 'Basil, pick up your blo-,'" Basil looked around at the scattered females around him, "er, 'blinkin' things! I ain't yo' maid, understand?' And at that moment, I turned to her and said, 'No one talks to a stag like that, ye old hag!' Well, she got this startled look for just a couple of seconds, and then I turned tail and shot out of there and never went back."
"We're sorry for you, friend," stated Mortimer.
"Think you got problems, mate?" barked an otter. "My problem left me entire family t'starve!"
"Winifred, please, let him have his turn," ordered Mortimer. "We are not here to judge, only to help. If you feel as though your problem is more severe than another beasts', then you shouldn't be here."
"Now, Basil," said Mortimer, turning to the hare, "what happened after that?"
"Well, I wandered about for a while, fashioning a few more faux antlers and always lookin' for deer. I even started callin' meself 'Basil Stag', just to make me feel better. If I ran into vermin, I'd give 'em the wallop, donchaknow? Improved me fightin' styles and always kept in top form. I lived in solitude for a long time, and then ran into that Matthias chap a while back and, well, I guess you all here know that story. Any hoo, though I've never showed anyone, I've still got one pair of me fake antlers in me bally possession. If just makes me feel empowered, you know? I never was one of those Salamadastron hares, with all their troops and traditions and wonderful stuff like that. So, I still secretly put me mind to being a tall, tawny, top-condition stag. It just makes me feel better, more confident."
"Well," said Abbot Mortimer, standing, "I think we've made some wonderful progress here today, Basil. Shall we give Basil the 'You'll Be Better' chant?"
All the attendees, some less willingly than others, stood from their chairs, clasped hands, and chanted:
"You might have a problem,
Always under the weather,
But with the help of your friends,
We promise you'll be better!"