The Black Path

I happened upon a tale some time ago while walking through a forest. Now this tale, as you soon will see, seems absurd to the highest degree. Yet I ask you, astute and generous reader, to suspend your disbelief, and trust me when I say that I have no reason to doubt its veracity. As I have said, I happened upon it some time ago, exactly when, I do not know; I have no saved copy, but my memory is good, and I know you will find it as fascinating as I did.

To the best I can recall, the story takes place somewhere in the woods. Perhaps it was the vast woods near Wonder, in Kentucky, but it very well could have been in the small forests near Speculator in New York. But, for the story’s purpose, the precise location is of little matter, and as you will soon see detracts nothing from its truth. As I was beginning, the story takes place in the woods, and whichever woods it takes place in are woods of the same we have all seen. That is, they were very green, they had many trees, and there were many smaller plants, some of which could drive a person mad with the itch they produced. As you well know, that’s why we don’t live in those places, there are too many trees - which block our vision, and there are too many quirky hazards - such as the itching plants that would inconvenience us greatly. Despite these obvious shortcomings, other animals choose to live there, and though we might think it ridiculous: anything choosing to bed itself among tall trees (for who knows, they could fall and crush one at any moment), we should not judge, as that is the creature’s decision to make. 

Now, within this forest, whose location is of little matter for it contains all the hallmarks of typical forests, there lived a great pack of deer. The deer pack, to the best of my knowledge, had recently elected to call themselves The Penitent, that is, if deer are so able to name themselves. My source tells me that they choose this name because of a great sorrow that had befallen them. The sorrow, is, of course, as most sorrows are, the loss of a few of their herd’s members. Their names, as I recall, were Sophie (a charming young doe), Modro (an elderly buck), and Vivek (a timid middle-aged buck). The Penitent had lost them all in the course of a few days, perhaps one dying each of the three days, or maybe two dying one day, and another dying a couple days later; which of these it is, I do not remember exactly. 

Sophie, Modro, and Vivek were all taken by a great new rift that had opened within the forest. The rift had appeared slowly, and its creation caused quite a stir within our very typical forest. The first sign of its brith came from a thunderous thud of one of the forest’s trees, which was initially mistaken for the noise of storms, until one of the Penitent remarked that they heard a bizarre buzzing. A scout was immediately dispatched to investigate the noises, and she returned to tell the herd - in whatever language deer use - that humans had began to cut a path through the trees. Now, the Penitent’s leader, a charismatic young buck named something along the lines of BamBam (one must not hold deer to very strict naming conventions), immediately gathered the herd to break the news. According to my source, his speech was very moving, he may have even used some metaphors that would make little sense to us (for deers very obviously see things much differently than us) that implied they were a strong herd and must not panic, for they do, whatever it is that deer do, best when united and calm. 

My source runs for some time here and speaks of all BamBam’s attempts to keep the herd stable, probably creating policies that he might have hoped would strengthen the Penitent’s sense of community. Whatever strange deer policies BamBam created, we would not be able to understand, as deer very plainly have different needs than we do. To us, things like money matter, but a deer would very foolishly ignore any money offered to them. Such is, however, the way that other animals live, and as I have said before, we must not be critical of their choices. Now after whatever policies BamBam tried to implement, Modro (the old buck, as you’ll remember) came charging to the herd wheezing, or whatever it may be that deer do when they are out of breath, speaking of some terrible development. Now, it is probably worth noting that Modro, being advanced in age (for a deer, of course) had seen many things, he had probably been frightened quite often in his life, so for him to be frightened again was either common, or uncommon. Whatever the case may be, Modro spoke of a black trail, something that might have scared the herd’s other deer (I don’t think my source said this exactly, but I find it likely). The black trail, as Modro likely described it to the other deer, was a terrible path; the ground on it is stiff as a tree, but black as the night sky. Worst of all, Mordo probably continued, the path carried these loud and fast beasts that ran very fast for very long distances, and had two devious moons with which they lit their way. 

Upon hearing this, The Penitent probably descended into an uproar (I think my source specified this). Some of the other older deer who have heard or seen the black path, would have had their faces turn pale if deer did not have hair on their faces and if their faces turn pale when afraid and if they were able to feel fear at the words of another deer. Regardless of their reactions, the herd was most likely very afraid. Another one of the older deer, whose name I do not know and do not think matters, told the deer he heard stories of innocent fawns and does being mercilessly slaughtered (if deer know of mercy, that is) when crossing the black path. There were many tales going around The Penitent at the news Mordo brought them, and these tales only further served to worsen the herd’s anxiety. 

As you see, the deer were probably very worried about the black path, which I’m sure, as you’re all astute readers, you will have guessed is the terrible rift that took the lives of poor Sophie, Vivek, and Mordo. Just as BamBam’s deer speeches and policies were of little consequence to the story, so are the details of Sophie, Vivek, and Mordo’s deaths. What is important, and you must trust me, reader, to determine importance, is that after their deaths, and after The Penitent decided on their name, there was much talk of addressing the problem of the black path. Now, as deer are, well, deer, they went about this task in the ways I imagine deer would go about it. That is to say, they grouped themselves together and held a rational yet passionate discourse on the best way to prevent the black path from taking more of them. Though no one really knows what the deer discussed that day (my source had faithfully recorded their discussion in the language of deers), it is known that they tried a number of things to address the problem.

I believe the first thing The Penitent tried to do was to make peace with the black path. You see, deer, clever as they are, know to first attempt diplomacy. They brought the black path things that they thought it might like. One of the deer brought some berries, another brought a branch whose pattern of twigs very much resembled that of a handsome buck’s antlers. Shortly after these offerings, there was a period of hope, when one of The Penitent noticed a bright new erection along the black path that was unmistakably the silhouette of buck. Beneath it were strange symbols that The Penitent believed to be a message to them, but none could make sense of the bright yellow erection’s markings. For a number of days, the exact number I do not know, The Penitent had believed their problem solved. They celebrated their ingenuity, and their diplomatic supremacy. Sadly, their joy was short lived, when a fawn was slaughtered. 

The Penitent probably realized now that the offerings were not what the black path wanted. Still, the herd could not understand what it was the terrible rift wanted, and with four of The Penitent’s members slain, tensions were beginning to run high. BamBam, who my source says was probably a pretty smart deer, and as we know (for I described him as such) was very charismatic. He used this intelligence to convince the deer to simply avoid the black path. His reasoning was almost certainly very sound, probably saying things like: “We have plenty of forest still to live and thrive in without concerning ourselves with the black path.” And with these irrefutable statements, he convinced The Penitent to simply avoid the black path. Unfortunately, other members of The Penitent did not share BamBam’s views, and spoke with again irrefutable calls to action, saying that the black path must be stopped by any means necessary. The Penitent, despite hearing these impassioned pleas, seem to have decided to listen to BamBam for a little while.

The forest was again peaceful, save the roar of those terrible beasts as they sped down the black path. The Penitent seemed to have gotten themselves into a fairly stable (whatever stable is to deers) position, living in harmony with the black path. This (as I’m sure you have predicted, smart reader) all changed one day. One of the does, probably very attractive by deer standards, came back to the herd one night visibly startled. The chivalrous (if deer indeed live by codes of honor) bucks quickly questioned her. She reported that she had almost been hit by one of the terrible beasts on the black path. Oh! What a terrible fate that would have been to our already unlucky group of deer! The bucks, not simply satisfied with her telling the story, asked her why she had been near the black path. Her response was probably very moving, it might have involved something like being enchanted by the siren song of the beasts’ two moons. Whatever her reason, the bucks sounded pretty upset, at least according to my source. The bucks, ever honorable and protective, rallied themselves into a sort of Cervidaeic rage - something that you can imagine is pretty difficult to imagine.

With their forces rallied and their anger bursting, The Penitent bucks charged towards the black path. They had, so far as I am informed, no real strategy, which I suppose is to be expected from typically docile creatures. Their rage, however, was so strong that they never really questioned how they would attack the black path, probably thinking that stomping, ramming, and other things bucks might do while engaged in combat against a terrible foe who has charmed their doe would be effective. The assault, taking place moments after the questioning of the doe, was very clearly undertaken at night. Whether it was helped or hindered by night, I do not know.

Now, my source goes into some very graphic details here about how the bucks fought valiantly against the black path’s terrible powers, but I find it to be far too sad of an account to reproduce here. After all, what would my job be as a storyteller if not to know what is best and what is not best for you, my reader, to hear. Suffice to say, the bucks’ assault was foolish, but I’m sure my astute readers have already realized that at this point, as they, presumably being humans, could clearly see that The Penitent bucks charged a road. Now, silly and absurd as this story may be, I must hold to my earlier claim that it is factual in every detail. For again, what would my job as a storyteller be if I did not provide the most faithful reproduction of this very real event to my readers? Likewise, since we all know that stories must contain some moral, and that I also am unable to explicitly state the moral, I propose that whatever moral you pull from this story is indeed the precise moral I intended to create with this story. I must, however, as it is not stated anywhere within the annals of storytelling etiquette, explicitly tell you what this story’s moral is not. That is, this story’s moral very plainly does not relate itself to humanity in any respect. Being a very learned storyteller, I deem this necessary (and I beg of your forgiveness for my forwardness, dear reader) because I know quite well that some person, too clever for their own good, will undoubtedly try very hard to relate it to human society. This is a tale of deer, not of humans, and to confuse the two would be a most grave intellectual injustice. With that, I take my leave, but not without first expressing my gratitude for my reader’s patience and astuteness.