Sometimes, the wondrous deer frolicked upon the forest floor, then sat quietly, only to rise again and wander toward the gate of the hermitage, moving gracefully among the herds of native deer. The other deer, enchanted, followed him as he turned back, his every motion filled with longing for Sita’s gaze—for this was no ordinary deer, but a demon who had taken this enchanting form. He circled about, tracing dazzling, intricate patterns in the forest glades, drawing the eyes of every woodland creature upon him. The wild deer approached, sniffing curiously at their radiant companion, but soon scattered in all directions, startled by his unfamiliar presence. Yet the demon, delighting in the hunt, mingled freely among them, careful not to reveal his true nature. Though he touched the deer, he refrained from eating, maintaining his disguise. At that very moment, Sita, the gentle-eyed Vaidehi, was wandering among the trees—karnikara, ashoka, and mango—her gaze as intoxicating as the spring itself. Absorbed in gathering blossoms, her radiant face glowing with delight, she roamed the forest, unaccustomed to such wild beauty and hardship. Suddenly, she beheld the jewel-like deer: its limbs adorned with pearls and gems, its teeth and lips gleaming, its silvery and metallic hair shimmering in the dappled sunlight. Astonishment widened her eyes as she gazed with affection upon the marvelous creature, and the magical deer, in turn, fixed his gaze upon Rama’s beloved. Wherever he wandered, it was as if he illuminated the whole forest with his splendor. Sita, daughter of Janaka, was filled with utter wonder at the sight of this never-before-seen, many-gemmed deer. As the next chapter of their story unfolded, Sita, her hips graceful and her hands full of freshly gathered flowers, beheld the deer once more. Its sides shone with the hues of gold and silver, its form flawless and radiant as polished gold. Delighted, Sita called out for her husband and for Lakshmana, his ever-watchful brother, her voice ringing through the woods. Again and again she called, her eyes never leaving the enchanting deer: “Come, come quickly, O noble one, with your younger brother!” Summoned by Vaidehi’s urgent call, Rama and Lakshmana, tigers among men, arrived and looked about, soon catching sight of the extraordinary deer. Lakshmana, ever wise and vigilant, grew suspicious and spoke: “I think this deer is none other than Maricha, the demon in disguise. Roaming the forest, delighting in the hunt, this shape-shifting demon has slain kings before, O Rama. This is the illusion of a master of illusion—a magical form, shining like the fabled cities of the Gandharvas. Such a jewel-adorned deer cannot exist; this is surely an illusion, there is no doubt.” While Lakshmana was still speaking, Sita, with her pure smile, interrupted him, her heart delighted yet deceived by the vision before her. “Noble prince,” she said to Rama, “this charming deer captivates my heart. Bring it to us, mighty-armed one—it will be for our play. Here at our hermitage, many auspicious-looking deer roam together—chamara, sṛmara, and others as well. Bears, herds of antelope, monkeys, and kinnaras too, O mighty-armed one, wander here, splendid in form and great in strength. Yet never have I seen a deer such as this—not in brilliance, patience, nor radiance. This one is truly foremost among deer. “With its multicolored, wondrous body, like a living jewel before me, it illuminates the undisturbed forest, shining like the moon. Ah, its form! Ah, its beauty! Its voice and splendor are lovely; this marvelous, variegated deer seems to steal my heart. If you can capture this deer alive, it will be astonishing and a source of wonder. When our exile ends and we return to the kingdom, this deer will be an ornament in the palace. For Bharata, noble prince, for my mothers-in-law, and for me, O lord, this divine deer form will inspire wonder. If you can capture this foremost deer alive, its beautiful skin will be yours. If it must be slain, then let its golden skin be laid upon the grass mat, for I wish to worship it. This desire is fierce and perhaps unbefitting for women, yet the form of this creature has filled me with wonder. “See its golden hair, its splendid jeweled horns, its youthful, sun-like color, and the brilliance of the starry path upon its back.” Hearing Sita’s words and gazing upon the marvelous deer, even Rama’s heart was struck with wonder. Enchanted by its form and urged by Sita’s longing, Rama, delighted, spoke to his brother Lakshmana. “Look, Lakshmana, at Vaidehi’s eager longing; for its supreme beauty, this deer shall not remain here today. Nowhere in the forests, nor in the groves of Nandana, nor in the retreats of Caitraratha—where on earth, O Saumitri, is there any deer equal to this one? Look at its beautiful rows of hair, shining both against and with the grain, adorned with varied golden spots. Behold, as it yawns, its tongue—brilliant as a blazing flame—emerges from its mouth like a hundred-rayed cloud. With a face like sapphire and gold, and a belly resembling conch and pearls—who would not feel desire for such an indescribable deer?” Thus, in the heart of the forest, wonder and longing filled the hearts of Sita, Rama, and Lakshmana, as they beheld the marvelous, illusory deer whose beauty was unlike any creature on earth.