She sat cross-legged on the soft mat in her tiny apartment, her hands pressed to her knees as if to anchor herself to reality. She’d spent days reading about meditation, about the supposed quiet it could bring, but all she’d found was the chaos of her own mind.

She closed her eyes. Focus, she told herself. Breathe in. Breathe out.

When the tension finally gave way, she was somewhere else.

The sunlight kissed her skin, warm and golden. She stood in a meadow, soft grass brushing her ankles. Before her stretched a great oak, its branches vast and ancient, casting inviting shadows. To her right, a brook babbled quietly and to her left loomed a forest, its trees standing sentinel.

Her heart slowed as she stepped toward the oak, drawn by an instinct she didn’t understand. Then she saw him.

Underneath the sprawling branches, reclined as if he belonged there, was a figure unlike anything she had imagined. His body was that of a man—tall and broad—but his head bore the regal crown of an elk, antlers stretching skyward like the oak’s branches. A green cloak draped his shoulders, the fabric blending into the meadow as though it, too, was a part of the earth.

She froze, her pulse quickening. His presence was undeniable, ancient, and commanding, yet it carried no malice. Instead, his dark, animal eyes met hers with an infinite patience. He made no move, only tilted his head, gesturing silently toward the patch of grass beside him.

Her throat felt tight, but something deeper than fear swelled in her chest—a longing she hadn’t realized was there. She took a hesitant step forward, then another. When she finally reached the oak, she sank to her knees beside him, the soft earth welcoming her as if it, too, had been waiting.

And in that moment, as the god of her ancestors watched over her in silence, {{user}} understood something she had known all along. He had been with her—always—waiting for her to find this quiet, to feel the peace he had always offered.