Clash of the titans

I let Boris out of his pen today as I was repairing the damage done by yesterday's storm, and like a galleon in full sail he majestically glided across the field to mirror the juvenile male, Darcy in his pubescent posturing in the far enclosure.
I love watching the stags doing their masculine thing. There is no overt aggression in this kind of joust, no sudden moves and not much noise. just the gentle rattling of their wing feathers as they scrape the grass and the heavy snorts of concentration as both birds circled each other in a half moon shaped dance.

I could have watched them all day