A chance meeting with a deer in the forest reminds you of beauty. She stands unmoving-- neck stretched, her eyes sift the blank space ahead. The twig you snapped with your foot caused ripples in her security. About ten seconds pass, and and you watch her bushy tail cut the air as she escapes, hooves thrash the leaves aside.

You are not a hunter, at least you know that about yourself. You were escaping to the forest, though. Respite breathes deeply in between the trees, but usually during daytime; fear and uncertainty creep after dusk.

And maybe those two hours you spent exploring the forest are all you needed to make a decision or quench your need for adventure.

But one thing is sure: you leave the forest, somehow changed.