THIN THREADS

I'm sure all of you are familiar with Bambi. I'll bet you've all seen the movie at least once or twice in your lives, and I'll bet you know all too well the tragic scene where Bambi's sweet mother is shot down. Though I've never really cried at that scene, it does give me goosebumps whenever I watch it. Well, imagine what might have happened to Bambi, if he never ran into his father.

What happens, then? What does Bambi do? Will he survive? Is he going to make it without his mother? I thought it over, and decided to make the idea into a full-fledged story.

So, here you are! And there shall be cookies for the nice reviewers!

Story © unicorn-skydancer08

All rights reserved.

"Bambi! Bambi, come here!" Bambi, who was chewing resolutely on some bitter, snow-encrusted roots that he had dug up, looked up at the sound of his mother's voice. The little fawn forced himself to swallow what he already had in his mouth before going straight to his mother, who stood only a short distance away.

She was smiling, and appeared to be very happy about something.

When Bambi approached her and looked up curiously at her, she told him, "Look!" He looked to where she was gesturing, and discovered a small patch, where the snow had been cleared away, revealing several shoots of tender green grass that had begun to grow. Bambi's heart gave a great leap, as his mother proudly confirmed, "New spring grass!"

Bambi did not hesitate to attack the grass, snatching it up in huge, eager mouthfuls. His mother joined him, only she ate much more slowly and daintily.

Bambi thought he had never tasted such good grass before in his life.

After many long days of hunger, of subsisting on distasteful roots and acrid tree bark, the fresh new grass was so luscious that it made Bambi want to wriggle all over with delight.

As they feasted contentedly on the grass, something made Bambi's mother stop and raise her head. She looked to her left, then she looked to her right. Her long ears stood straight up, and her beautiful brown eyes were wide and alert. She could sense danger in the meadow, could practically taste it in the air.

Presently, she urged her son, "Bambi, quick—the thicket!"

At first Bambi didn't understand what was going on, but as his mother goaded him into a run, a loud gunshot penetrated the still winter air.

Then Bambi knew: man was in the meadow!

That was all it took for the young fawn to bolt across the snowy field, at his utmost speed. His mother followed him, and the sounds of the gunshots followed them both.

Unfortunately for Bambi and his mother, the meadow was wide and open, and perfectly flat, with no trees or bushes to conceal them.

With everything around them covered in solid white, that only made them all the more vulnerable. All they could truly do was flee for their lives. "Faster!" Bambi's mother cried frantically, as the deadly gunshots persisted. "Faster, Bambi!" When Bambi started to look back, his mother commanded him, "Don't look back! Keep running! Keep running!"

And so Bambi ran, just as fast as his legs could ever carry him, his heart lodged in his mouth the whole time.

Right as they were reaching the other end of the meadow, where safety awaited them, there was yet another deafening bang…and Bambi's mother stumbled and collapsed into the snow, never to arise again. Bambi, not realizing this, only continued to race ahead, until he was deep within the sanctity of the trees.

He never stopped running until he made it all the way back to the thicket that had sheltered him and his mother throughout the winter.

He slowed, and skidded to a halt. There he stood, panting heavily, shaking all over from fatigue and fear, but immensely relieved to have gotten away.

"We made it!" he gasped between pants. "We made it, Mother!"

When there was no answer, he peered bewilderedly over his shoulder. "Mother?"

His mother was not there.

Bambi waited a moment, but she did not come. When Bambi dared to step out of the thicket again and gaze around the wood, his mother was nowhere to be seen. A few flakes of fresh snow had begun to fall by that time, catching onto Bambi's long eyelashes, lightly dusting his already speckled coat. Paying no heed to this, Bambi called out at the top of his voice, "Mother!"

There was still no answer. Bambi listened carefully, his ears cocked, but there was nothing. The woods were quiet…much too quiet.

The snow began falling thicker and faster as Bambi dared to venture out farther, and hollered, "Mother, where are you?"

The young fawn darted about from here to there, searching around every tree, probing every imaginable hiding place.

"Mother! Mother!" was his constant refrain.

But no matter how many times he yelled out, his mother never came to him, and he couldn't find her anywhere.

Bambi could feel fear building up in his heart. Where was she? His mother would never keep him waiting like this. What could have happened to her? Something must be terribly wrong, if she wasn't coming at his call. The snow soon became blinding, and the cold air only continued to get colder and colder by the minute. Shivering from both apprehension and the winter chill, Bambi went on with his frantic search. "Mother!" he wailed yet again. His despair was evident in his voice, and his big, bright brown eyes teemed with big, bright tears.

For what must have been hours, the hopeless fawn roamed the vast, desolate wood, crying for his mother until his voice was practically gone, until it was too dark and too snowy to really see anything anymore. By the time Bambi was forced to stop, when it at last dawned on him that his mother was truly gone, the poor little one sank down and lay right in the snow, no longer having the strength to stand on his own. Sick with hunger, sick at heart, he closed his eyes, and slowly slipped away into complete unconsciousness.