[There's something outside her window. It's not the first night it's been there, but perhaps it's the first night she noticed it.
A young deer. A young buck, so young that its horns are just tiny little nubs on his forehead. He's small, but eye catching because his body seems to reflect the world around him, like water in a shallow pool, small plants grow out, not on, his body covering the fading spots on his haunches. Little mushrooms and ferns grow when each tiny hoof touches the ground.
He hovers near the edge of the house, close to the shrine of the Prophet that Lev had kept so faithfully clean and safe despite the destruction all around them.]
at night, during the week of lev's death
A young deer. A young buck, so young that its horns are just tiny little nubs on his forehead. He's small, but eye catching because his body seems to reflect the world around him, like water in a shallow pool, small plants grow out, not on, his body covering the fading spots on his haunches. Little mushrooms and ferns grow when each tiny hoof touches the ground.
He hovers near the edge of the house, close to the shrine of the Prophet that Lev had kept so faithfully clean and safe despite the destruction all around them.]