He heard the call again, loud and clear, as fine as gentle birdsong, yearning and tender, “Come ... come.”
Yes, that was her voice! That was Faline! Bambi rushed from where he was with such urgency that the thin twigs on the bushes broke and their hot, green leaves merely rustled.
But while he was jumping he had to stop and throw himself to one side. There stood the elder, blocking his way.
The only thing seething in Bambi was his love. He did not care about the elder any more. He would certainly come across him again sometime. But now he had no time for old gentlemen, however venerable they might be. All he could think of now was Faline.
He made a perfunctory greeting, and wanted to get quickly past him.
“Where are you going?” the elder asked, seriously.
Bambi was slightly ashamed, wondered how he could talk his way out of it, but then he regained his senses and answered honestly, “To her.”
“Don’t go,” said the elder.
For a second, a spark of anger rose up in Bambi, just one. Not go to Faline? How could the elder expect that of him. I’ll just run away, thought Bambi. And he quickly looked at the elder. But the depth of the gaze directed at him from the elder’s dark eyes held him where he was. He shook with impatience, but he did not run away.
“She’s calling for me ...” he said, by way of explanation. He said it in a way that was clearly pleading. “Don’t get in my way!”