On a cold Saturday night, out in the bush of the Ashley Forest. My hunting partner Jack and I were stalking a massive whitetail deer through the shrub. I pulled the arrow out of my quiver and started to draw my bow. At full draw, its head was turned away, unaware of our presence.
The whitetail was now onto us, but its head wasn’t looking like normal. It had purple hazy eyes and then it hopped and just floated, ever so slightly rising, coming towards us.
“I didn’t realise they could fly,” said Jack
“They, they… can’t.” I replied.