Dances-With-Doves drank deeply from the pool of water, savoring its cool, refreshing taste on his tongue. Suddenly, he felt something tug at his tail – gently, almost teasingly at first, but as he raised his head to glance over his shoulder, it pulled again, more aggressively, before letting go. With a cry of pain, he whirled to face his attacker, but there was no one there – neither fellow Kin, nor predator, nor any sort of beast. He could sense something wrong, though, something more than just the pain in his tail, but couldn't quite put a hoof on it at first. As he glanced around warily, however, nose to the wind and wary for danger, he realized what he had failed to see: he had no shadow.
The sun was in the air, shining bright and warming the wide clearing in which he stood. The bushes around him cast shadows, but his own was missing, nowhere to be found. Suddenly, he glimpsed movement behind one of the bushes, and stiffened at the sound of a deep, menacing snarl. The dark, inky silhouette of a Kimeti detached itself from the shadow of a nearby bramble, slinking toward him menacingly. It had no facial features, no detail to it – just smooth, solid blackness in the shape of Dances-With-Doves himself. As it circled him, slowly drawing closer, the comforting light of the sun began to fade, darkening the clearing and the forest around it until he could hardly see at all. Dances-With-Doves dashed about wildly, stumbling over rocks and sticks, in a vain attempt to escape. He found that in the time he'd been watching for the shadow, a thick ring of brambles had drawn in to surround them completely. He'd never get through them before the strange beast was upon him.
The buck squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself against the foe's attack, but nothing happened. Slowly, he opened one eye again, only to find himself alone. He was lying down in the shade of a scrubby tree, and his surroundings were completely different from what they'd been only a moment before. His bewilderment gave way to a sigh of relief as he got to his feet, realizing that it had all been only a terrible dream. In an effort to shake off the last remnants of fear, Dances-With-Doves trotted slowly around his small, familiar territory, nosing affectionately at the scrawny trees and pausing to inhale deeply of several fragrant marsh flowers. Slowly, putting one hoof in front of the other, he made his way to the top of a small hill, cautious in the half-light of early dawn, sitting down to greet the sunrise when it came.