The Old Stag.
He watched the world pass him by from the safety of the old forest, his mind ticking over at a slow and measured pace, mirroring in steady syncopation his strong heartbeat.
He let his thoughts touch upon the long life he’d led; the highs, the lows; battles fought, battles lost – many of the former, but still a fair number of the latter mainly from when he was young and green of experience.
He thought upon his father’s words from when he was just a young wannabe basking in his father’s shadow: ’It pays to know when to choose to fight or when flight is the safer option.’
He mulled that over for a few moments, tasting old remembrances of the sweet tastes of success and the bitter ones of failure. But, they had all lost their immediacy, just memories now, as if happenings of another life, of another being.
He knew that he was reaching the end of his days ’You will know when it is time to pass on the leadership.’ his father’s words again in his head, as they were all the more now.