Microfiction: The white stag

For Sonya’s three line tales writing prompt

Photo ©Rebecca Johnston

tltweek35

The white stag turned to face the hunters and they held their breath.

A wish it would give an they let it go, as they would, for who would kill the white stag?

A hound barked, the stag bounded away and, carried on the breeze, a sound that only Oisín could hear, the lusty roar of a newborn baby and its mother’s cry of happiness. He had his wish.