DecPoWriMo 19

Out of the unexpected brush 
Along the path we were not sure
Was a path appeared a lone deer
Then two three maybe four
We approached as silently
As we could even the runner
Behind us had their phone out
Taking pictures as we were when
A sudden jolt and the fourth
Was separated from the others
For a second I thought the deer
Would dash straight into me
Instead it turned and headed
Down the path until the path
Was no longer a path but a stream
There to find their companions
We hoped they would not be
Distant from each other for long