Picture, if you will, the fawn.

He is full of life as he skips his merry way down to the river’s edge, tiny dainty hooves pressing drops of morning dew from the grass. The grass exhales as the hoof lifts and the fawn springs onwards, tufted ears and delicate eyelashes flicking away midges attracted by the moisture by the flowing stream and the hot vitality of the beast’s lifeblood. There is a joy in his eyes, shining in the early sunshine reflected from the surface as the young creature. . .

Picture, if you will, the fawn.

He is full of life as he skips his merry way down to the river’s edge, tiny dainty hooves pressing drops of morning dew from the grass. The grass exhales as the hoof lifts and the fawn springs onwards, tufted ears and delicate eyelashes flicking away midges attracted by the moisture by the flowing stream and the hot vitality of the beast’s lifeblood. There is a joy in his eyes, shining in the early sunshine reflected from the surface as the young creature. . .