The stag’s head rose above the grass. He had no memory of ever not having carried the proud antlers. It was back, the melody that had been missing from the music of the world. But its song was weaker than usual.
The stag followed it, the one sound that contained everything he’d once been. And there she was, her dress covered in cobwebs. Only the thread in her hand was golden.
The stag went to her side, and the Fairy buried her face in his neck.