Passings

I don't own Bambi.  Opinions are much appreciated.

     The Great Prince watched his son look down at his first-born fawns.  The ancient stag stood at the buck's side, impassive, but inwards, proud, sad, smiling.  He had long ago stood on this crag for the first time, with his sire at his side, watching his doe, his first mate, having his first fawn.  His own sire had turned and left, as he did now. 

     The Great Prince had watched his last son and when his first mate had died, kept him alive over the winter.  Bambi was a worthy choice; he had survived, he had thrived, and he had chosen his own first mate.  As he had raised a prince worthy of the position he would grow into, the Great Prince of the forest was now a king, and would be so for the remaining time before his end.  Bambi would now take up the duty of warning, of guarding, of being a legend and a respected figure, seldom seen but believed in.  It would be hard; to live, one must walk alone, and as all prince-stags, he loved his first mate.  But the separation must be so.  The strongest fawns must live to take the places of elders, and a father had no right and would not make impartial choices of who should take the places of their predecessors. 

     Bambi's mother had not been the Great Prince's only mate; as the dominant stag, it was right and duty and pleasure to take many mates and sire many fawns.  But his first mate had his heart, and only her fawns could become princes.  After her death, he had left the harem to other stags.  In his many years, for not one had lived half so long as he, the Prince had been father countless times.  One barren season for him did not matter.

     He left Bambi on the crag above the thicket.  As the Great Prince, now King, walked away, he felt the burden of guardian and ruler lifted from his back, as the hornless, solid-footed, heavily built creatures who served Man must feel after the riders dismounted.  Now he would roam, until his death came, and be free of the burden of royal tasks.

     The King stag lifted his face into the wind, sniffed, and set off, knowing that with his years, it would not be long before he joined his doe, his first mate.  He smiled inside.