Here in the forest, rife with collective hallucinations & mishaps, rumours & grudges, moon juice & gravel walking, anything is possible. The constant babble of elusive deer language keeps the inhabitants and reader sane, as deer fly and deep-sea dive, become fussy eaters and start chat show trends. The deer show us ourselves at our worst, best and most ridiculous in their pure nonsense/no nonsense way. After all, who hasn't had plastic surgery to look like Andrei Tarkovsky without realising everyone else has done that too?
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