Mimsy's voice was a distant dream, hardly heard and barely acknowledged. He was focused so intently on catching a deer that was far too fast for him, and eventually he had to give up when he realized he was getting lost. He turned around and ran back to where he thought Mimsy was, and saw a glimpse of her before he was anywhere close. His heavy footfalls slowed, as he watched her sitting pretty on that grass, perched in just the right position to be absolutely fascinating to him. Her hand was outstretched, feeding one deer, while others crept closer and surrounded her with their delicate movements. He'd stopped, still pretty far away, and his body lifted in a long, infatuated sigh.
She was a princess. She was a goddess. She was a vision that made him want to fall to his knees and cry. Because she couldn't be real, and she couldn't be his.
But she was. So he took a picture of the vision she presented with his phone, and surged forward instead of crumbling with despair, to scare away all of the deer that she'd lured in just as she'd lured him in. He dropped to his knees in front of her, and leaned in to smother her face with kisses.
"Mine mine mine mine mine." Each kiss said, as did he, when he gave them. She was his dream, and he was never going to let himself wake up.
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