There she was in the wood, wreath in her hair
Twirling to the drum arms out stretched to the naked trees. The moon and the fire silhouetting her gown of white.
Faster the Stag queen spun to the drum, giving herself. Willing her self to take in the spirit.
Swaying to and fro she hypnotized a hundred souls. Her beauty unmatched. The red waves of her hair matted to her head.
He stepped into the clearing, he wore the horns.
The drums beat faster, she stretched out her arms like a sparrows wings willing herself to fly
He strode to her gazing at her beauty afraid he may never breath again
Their eyes met and he took the step. He put his mouth to hers
And the horn blew through out the wood
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