Once a year, when the moon hangs low and ripe as a lantern over the pines, the forest awakens for its grandest celebration — The Great Deer Feast. Stags polish their antlers till they gleam like crowns; does adorn their necks with garlands of fern and dew. The clearing turns into a ballroom of moss, where every rustle of leaves becomes music, and every glance a secret invitation.

In the center stands the Voyager — a wandering bard of the woods, half dream, half legend. He sings not with words but with the rhythm of hooves and the echo of desire that binds every creature to the pulse of the night. By dawn, only trampled petals and the scent of wild joy remain.

A mythic woodland cabaret of elegance, lust, and liberation — where love wears antlers, and freedom dances barefoot beneath the stars.

Deep in the forest, where the moonlight filters through the branches like liquid silver, three silhouettes move in a hush that trembles with instinct. The Fallow Deer — graceful and shy; the Stag — proud, crowned, and heavy with desire; and the Doe — tender but curious, caught between safety and spark.

The night begins as a dance — cautious steps on moss, glances that glow, breaths that blend. Then thunder rolls, not from the sky, but from hooves and hearts. What follows is not rivalry, but harmony — three bodies finding the same rhythm in a place where no word for sin exists.

A haunting woodland symphony of trust, freedom, and temptation — where love forgets to choose, and the forest keeps its quiet blessing.

At the edge of the pasture, where smoke from the farmer’s fire meets the scent of wild thyme, Billy Goat Cyril returns — older, bolder, and no less foolish in matters of love. This time his heart (and beard) are set aflame by Vixen Laura, a creature of shadows and sly smiles, whose every move is half a secret, half a promise.

He stamps, she circles. He boasts, she vanishes. Until one spark — one daring glance — sets the night alight. The foxhole becomes a stage, the moon a lantern, and two mismatched souls find a rhythm between wildness and wit.

A rustic fable of vanity, cunning, and irresistible attraction — where the fire burns low, the stars lean closer, and love smells faintly of fur and danger.