The scene I showed you yesterday, as of last night, has changed.

I started telling the Antlers story to a friend. I was describing the first scene when we were interrupted by something—a waitress bringing us our drinks, probably—and after a quick “cheers,” he said, “So the man is hunting the stag, and then what?”

I hadn’t said he was hunting the stag, but…of course he was! The way I saw the story, he’s merely gathering fruits and vegetables to bring home, and in helping the stag, his food is trampled: his kind deed brought him misfortune. But the events are rather unrelated, and implausible: why would be put his day’s work so close to the deer’s hooves? It also doesn’t really follow that his wife would be so upset after he lost only a few hours’ worth of work that she would immediately send him out to find more.

But if he’s hunting, a lot of these points become more clear. First, he’s not just collecting food for that evening—surely they have some means of doing that on a regular basis, and have a bit of produce stocked at home. This is a special occasion. He’s hunting for a feast. A gift for his wife. And they’re very poor, so they can’t afford to keep a horse or a hound, which were all but necessary when hunting large game in the middle ages (which is roughly when this story is supposed to take place). So his hopes were low, but he was out there, trying, stalking around with his bow, trying to make something happen.

Then there’s this deer with his antlers caught in some branches. It doesn’t notice him, it’s not going anywhere, and it’s enormous. Perfect!

For the man to let this thing go is huge. Whether it’s because he feels wrong killing a helpless creature, or because he’s scared of the aura around it, or because he just finds those silver antlers fascinating: that goes unexplained. It’s up to you to decide. But suddenly there’s something to decide here! There’s emotional conflict! It’s not just things happening!

I’m so glad that waitress showed up.

I’m researching how people hunted in the middle ages, to figure out how this works. (That’s how I knew about the horse and hound thing.) I know now that the man has a bow, which is awesome. I learned the word hart, which is a name for an adult male red deer, the kind most suitable and honorable for hunting. I’m learning about hunting traditions, like how big honor’s role was in the practice. And I found Saint Eustace.

I had heard his name before, but I didn’t know his story. Here’s the exciting bit of Saint Eustace’s hagiography, written by Jacobus de Voragine in The Golden Legend in the 13th century:

So on a day, as he was on hunting, he found an herd of harts, among whom he saw one more fair and greater than the other, which departed from the company and sprang into the thickest of the forest. And the other knights ran after the other harts, but Placidus siewed him with all his might, and enforced to take him. And when the hart saw that he followed with all his power, at the last he went up on a high rock, and Placidus approaching nigh, thought in his mind how he might take him. And as he beheld and considered the hart diligently, he saw between his horns the form of the holy cross shining more clear than the sun, and the image of Christ, which by the mouth of the hart, like as sometime Balaam by the ass, spake to him, saying: Placidus, wherefore followest me hither? I am appeared to thee in this beast for the grace of thee. I am Jesu Christ, whom thou honourest ignorantly, thy alms be ascended up tofore me, and therefore I come hither so that by this hart that thou huntest I may hunt thee.

Cool. (Here’s the whole story if you’re piqued.) I don’t want Silver Antlers to be a tale steeped in Christianity, but there’s exciting potential in this story that I might be able to incorporate.

And the next time I’m at that bar, I think I’ll have some Jägermeister.