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Berries and Deer

The grey-painted trees quietly shook their leaves from their stiff arms. The shivers were brought about by the cool breath of fall & the bugs that roamed around the roots of the trees found warmth beneath the tired earth.
Atman and his daughter, Ecchumati, searched for the last of summer’s berries.
“The berries are just as important as the deer. The berries sometimes heal when you have bad wound, sometimes just taste good,” he laughed as he told his youngest daughter these things.
“But, father, the deer gives us strength! Isn’t strength the most important?” Ecchumati asked, scratching at her knotted braid. Atman looked in her eyes and saw a warrior.
“Sometimes what is most important depends on what you need more of inside. You need berries.” Atman picked her up & threw her onto his shoulders playfully. They laughed and began to sing.
An owl soared down onto the branched nearest Ecchmati’s shoulder. Atman’s face dropped in sorrow & swung her off his shoulders.
“What is wrong?”
Silence rung out past the trees.

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