trodden upon by the graceful creature,
bruised,
but I could not complain
I tickle her hooves


bang

something heavy, soft, and delicate falls onto me,  
I am aware of a dripping, sticky sensation on me
I have seen it before, in wars, in accidents, in births, in genocides, in ******-
blood

Her doe-eyes round and glassy
I weep, shaking the dew off of me

Something two-footed, sure-footed stomps on me quickly, quick-breathed
I peer up
A huntress
with her bow
with her arrows

I examined the creature carefully-
a black, smeared arrow jutted out from her side
I wept, unable to do more than sing
waving my arms, up to the trees