In this section of my web site I will be posting short stories and other writing. Some of the stories will be snippets from one of the books I am working on; others will be stand-alone. All will be, in some form, works in progress and subject to revision. Certain elements, such as the titles of any books in progress, are withheld in this forum.
All writing is copyright Stu Shepherd -- ©2008 Stu Shepherd
(From a Teen Fantasy novel... codename AIBM)
The Fox and the Hare
By Stu Shepherd
The fact that the animals all could talk was not the most intriguing thing about entering the magical forest, at least not to young Myrise Dalwon. The most intriguing thing was what the animals said.
They were just beginning the pursuit of Myrise’s quest. She had come from the isolated valley of her people, the Gedrean, to here, at the very edge of the mysterious, vaunted dark forest of Vebdense. But they weren’t quite to that spooky place yet. The trees here were still inviting, the wildlife still friendly – one reason why this area was known as the Eamyrth Wood. But the path meandered round and about and now they were within sight of the point where it tucked into the ever taller, ever darker, ever more menacing trees of the Vebdense,
Fourteen year old Myrise and her new companions -- Sir Camlys, Sir Jay (a Blue Jay that seemed to think he owed Myrise something), and their two horses, Chippet and Whitefoot -- had been traveling through the Eamyrth Wood for many hours before they reached the old stone bridge across a little river. Myrise glanced and spotted an old carving saying “R. Grisreye” on the stone abutment that supported the bridge. She’d never heard of it, but that wasn’t unexpected out here. Scattered about were the remnants of a lost era, one of metal and science, with ways and reasons not retained by the rustic folk of her day. It was a time of fantasy, of life and magic, when talking to animals was not uncommon – and having them talk back way too common. To her, a river knew its own name and didn’t need someone else to tell it. Of course, the babbling of brooks was not at all easy to understand.
On the far side of the bridge lay an open dale filled with spring wildflowers glowing warmly in the afternoon sun – which seemed a bit odd, given that she had left her home in the Gedrean Valley the day before, and it was mid-Autumn there. Beyond this warm glade loomed the first towering trees that shadowed the commencement of the Dark Forest of the Vebdense. The entourage clomped slowly over the rock bridge as birds scurried overhead and fish scattered underneath. Myrise pondered for a second the magic of this forest, where she could walk from autumn to spring, but such mysteries were for times when she wasn’t quite so hungry.
Given a quest without knowing the path to follow to complete it, the travel party stumbled forward without too much complaint (save old Whitefoot, her dusty grey horse who complained even if he was complaining that there was nothing to complain about -- and who surprisingly had white feet beneath his ruddy coat). Camlys, the Mage apprentice, was actually well used to wandering through the forest not knowing what he was looking for, as he’d been out here on his own quest for weeks without being sure what his Master had sent him from Wizard school to find. Their scout, the plucky blue jay Myrise had named Sir Jay, flew here and there without really knowing what to look for, either. It wasn’t a very organized operation, but Myrise was doing what she knew she had to do, and had to have faith that the path to follow would be presented to her. The Spirit of the Forest, after all, had warned her that she would face three challenges which, if she successfully completed, would allow her to find her desired destination, and thus have the chance to complete her quest.
Once across the bridge her new companion Camlys (whom Myrise insisted on calling Sir, even though he was barely older than she), called over to her from his place on Chippet, a little behind her own horse Whitefoot. “Miss Myrise. A word.” His teenage voice muffled over amongst the gentle babbling of the river’s edge. Myrise pulled Whitefoot to a halt but continued looking over the odd wood that loomed in front of them.
With the valley of Gedrea well behind them, ahead the trees grew large and strange, with pine needles instead of the more friendly deciduous leaves. As well, the local fauna had become somewhat different than the pleasant denizens that shared the valley with her people. Of course the birds still spoke the same language, because to them the natural boundaries were insignificant. Still, that really didn’t matter since most birds rarely condescended to speak to humans. Birds seemed to be talking all the time, Myrise noted, staring up at them as they flittered from tree to tree. She figured it was like the twittering of the ladies around the spinning wheels – about this and that and who did this and whose garden grew green and why, but in the end it didn’t amount to much, and birds weren’t known for their long memories anyway.
Camlys' words brought her mind back to the issue at hand. ‘I think we should stop for a bit. I’m hungry.”
“Agreed, Sir Camlys. And I’m sure the horses could use a rest.”
In response to which Whitefoot whinnied with his best wisdom “And I didn’t think anyone cared.”
Camlys of course had no idea Whitefoot had said anything, since the language of horses was one of a number of things he didn’t understand. He pushed on with his thought. “I think we should stop over at the edge of the wood. There are some briars there, probably berries, and shelter in case there’s a storm.”
Myrise glanced up at the sky, all blue and with not a cloud. “You’re expecting rain?”
He shrugged. “It is the Magical Forest, after all. Anything can happen here.”
They commenced to walk again down the road, to the unending discomfort of Whitefoot who moaned. “Get my hopes up, then let me down.” An annoying song, yet Myrise could not help but grin.
Across the grassy glade the party stopped by a rocky escarpment that jutted angrily out to force the seemingly unassuming path to curve around its crags. Along the ridge grew a line of blackberry bushes, all green and covered with black and reddish berries. Knowing that the conservation of her meager food allotment was essential to a comfortable journey, Myrise decided it would help to stop and collect some of these delectable detachables. She left Camlys to tend the horses and water them at a stream that flowed down the side of the escarpment, and took with her a basket to gather berries. Around the bend and out of sight of Camlys she found the best and ripest bushes, growing all around one crumbly boulder. Myrise kneeled by the boulder, quickly picking handfuls of blackberries from the thorny bush beside it. She stopped to taste one.. perfect!
"This will help keep my tummy filled." She said to herself.
Suddenly, there was a rustling in the bush. All at once something burst out. She recoiled back, only to have the something smack into her leg. It was round and furry and had long ears... a rabbit.
“Pardon, pardon!” The rabbit squealed up at her harshly. The bunny stared at her, its eyes narrowed, ears tall. Myrise had felt that kind of stare before – one of annoyance and disapproval. Eyeing her warily the whole time, rabbit hopped left then leaped forward again – right into the boulder face. Stunned by its own brilliance (not to mention the mettle of the rock), it slumped back.
Now Myrise was not one to interfere uninvited with the pursuits of others, but this was another matter. She quietly sat down her bulging basket of berries and kneeled over the reeling rabbit.
“Are you all right, Sir Hare?”
Sir Hare stared up at her in a daze (though, with a rabbit, who could tell?)
At that very moment, the brush again rustled and out sprang a scarlet fox. The fox was panting, its black nose and tail whipping left and right, seeking the trail. But a mere leap from Myrise, he recoiled back in surprise. He quickly looked all about (but mostly at the looming form of Myrise) then, upon seeing the dazed rabbit under her hands, arched his back. The fox snarled and attempted to leap forward, but it was an awkward effort. He got one step in, then, as his left front paw came down, winced and whimpered and raised it back up. The fox came to a halt, holding his left paw limp and licking it gingerly. Then his eyes narrowed at the rabbit again and he flopped forward, trying to reach it – his next meal.
“Fox!” Myrise cried out as she threw her arm between the Fox and the Hare. Her arm came forward against the fox’s sternum, and he teetered back. He growled at her.
“Human! Not to interfere!” The fox snarled.
Now Myrise was flustered. This was indeed an awkward situation.
“Well, Sir Fox. She ruffled her brow. “Seeing as how I accidentally stopped this poor rabbit and am now between you and him, I guess I am forced to interfere.”
The fox grumbled. “If not for this thorn,” he shook his paw softly, and then laid it over Myrise’s outstretched arm, “I would have already caught him!”
The Hare shook his head now, regaining some of his senses. “And ‘cept for human, I be in hidey-hole in safe!” He snuffled his nose. “Safe!”
Seeing that his first plea was not going to make any difference, the Fox sat back on his haunches. “Now you have stopped me from my dinner.”
“Dirty Fox! Fox!” The Hare hissed (The X in Fox sounding more like “th”).
The Fox snarled at the Hare, but then noticed the disapproving look on Myrise’s face and turned the snarl into a grin. He looked about for a moment then bobbed his head.
“Now you have a choice, Miss Human.” The Fox announced in his most diplomatic voice. “You can keep me from my rightful catch, or you can allow me to finish the hunt.”
“Choice?” The bunny snapped, “Choice is this? Choice to let him eat me???” The rabbits eyes were wide (but then they usually are) and his head quite animated as it bobbed between eyeing Myrise and the Fox.
“Now Sir Hare, don’t worry. I am not going to just let him have you. It’s my fault you didn’t get away.”
“But I would have caught him!” Fox argued.
Myrise shook her head slightly. “With that thorn in your paw? And how could you think of eating such a sweet bunny?”
The Fox began to pout. “I am just a humble fox.” He announced, his voice its most melodramatic self. “I have a vixen and four cubs to feed. Yet everyone hates me. Why? Why does everyone hate me?”
“Maybe it ‘cause you eat them!” The rabbit sniffled. “Eat them!”
Myrise sat back, but continued to keep one arm on the fox and one arm on the hare.
The fox sat back on his haunches as well, his back straight, his head held high, proud. “I am a fox. That’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“I a rabbit. I supposed to run!” The hare snapped back with his buck teeth. “Run!”
Fox cocked his head, looking past Myrise’s arm at the rabbit.
“Ah, and with a thorn in my paw I can’t catch you, and if I don’t catch you, I starve, and my pups starve, and there are no more foxes, and if there are no more foxes, then your huge family will grow bigger, and you’ll eat everything in sight until there is not enough for you all and you’ll learn how to kill each other. Is that what you want, hare?”
The hare sniffled his nose. “Well, no. Well, no.”
“Oh, I see how it is.” The fox lifted his thorned paw onto Myrise’s leg. He looked up at her. “You see it, don’t you, human? Rabbit is only interested in himself. Oh, he’ll hoist the banner of the greatest good, talking virtue and self-sacrifice as long as that’s all it is – talk. But he has no problem condemning future generations to a hellish world just for his own comfort.”
“Well, Fox.” Myrise spoke up, contemplating his argument. “Sir Hare has a right to live.”
“And I don’t?” The fox drew back from her. “Is that it? He does what he’s made to do and he’s saintly. I do what I’m made to do and I’m a villain! Is it any wonder my forefathers had to resort to the hunt to find food enough? And I suppose you’ll leave me here, wounded and incapable of making a living, huh lady? And you’ll let hopper over there go off to his five hundred brothers and sisters and eat up the meadow.”
“That’s not true!” The hare snapped his teeth. “Not true! I only have four hundred brothers and sisters. Four!”
“Oh, excuse me! I’m an only child myself. When I’m gone and my family starves, then there will be no more of my line.”
Myrise patted the somber fox on the head. “You won’t starve, foxy.”
“That’s right!” The hare shook his head and straightened up. “Take his side! I’m just a dumb bunny! That’s right!”
“No, hare. But I can’t interfere in the natural course of, things. When he’s chasing you, you have no time to talk.”
“Foxes never talk to hares.” The Fox snooted.
“Indeed.” She smirked at him. “And you, Hare. You haven’t lost that many close relations to foxes, have you?”
“My brother Jamie. James?. Or was it my first sister Jamie? No, maybe Fred. Theopholus? No, wait…”
“You see? There’s a balance. Now, you, Sir Hare. Run along. And in a minute, I’ll pull that thorn out of Sir Fox’s paw, and he can get back to his, er, work. And if he hunts and catches one of your brothers… it’s the nature of things. He’ll from now be more thankful for every meal he has for his family, knowing that it required a sacrifice your family made.”
“I guess.” The hare said over his shoulder as he started to hop away. “I will not be quite as sorrowful when next I lose a brother. Not quite.”
He hopped in to the bush, which rustled a bit ever quieter, then was gone. Myrise grinned as he went, then looked back to Sir Fox. Her eyes widened.
“Sir Fox!”
The Fox looked up at her, pulling his tongue back in after he finished licking his chops. A sheepish look grew on his face.
“Oh, what?” He was almost giddy. “What can I say?” He put his thorned foot back on her knee, looking up at her expectantly. “Is it my fault I love who I am?”
Myrise scowled. Now how was she supposed to respond to that?
The rustling of the bushes faded as Hare made his way to safety. Myrise patted Sir Fox’s paw, then started to carefully pull out the thorn. In moments it was free. He brought his paw down and flexed it against the ground. Much better!
“I would wish you good luck with your hunt, Sir Fox. But I know how it will end.”
“And I you on yours, but I have no idea how it will end. The pups are hungry, so I must scurry.” He turned and dove through the bushes, sniffing out Sir Hare’s trail. Well, why not? If there was one bunny there, there had to be more.
It was only as the Fox disappeared into the brush that she thought she could hear a voice. It was a voice from everywhere, and nowhere. Suddenly, the light of the afternoon seemed to dim. The flight of the birds among the trees slowed, then paused. And she knew she had heard the voice before…
“You have passed this test, young one.” The Spirit of the Forest’s voice became localized. It seemed to float up in the trees, up where the sun was shining down upon the little opening. She blocked the sun with her eyes, thought she caught a glimpse of a glowing figure… “There is promise that you might yet get through them all.” Then the sun seemed to flare, and the sounds were back to normal, the wind brushing through the leaves, the birds skittering and scattering.
Her mouth fell open.
The first test!
What? What could it mean? What was the test? She had interfered in the natural order of the predator/prey relationship, and was compelled to take sides. Was that it? Care for cute critters called for letting the bunny get away, but understanding the need of the Fox called for giving it a chance as well. Was this the test? Or was it a lesson?
She quickly filled the rest of the basket with berries as she laughed and giggled, thinking how silly the fox and the hare had been, and how easy the test! If they were all like this she would find her lost friend Palabres in no time!
The berries tasted extra-delicious, and she anxiously brought them over to Camlys to share. He too seemed to enjoy the treat, though he could not for the life of him understand what had gotten into Myrise. Like boys everywhere, the things that affected girl’s moods were a mystery to Camlys, as mysterious as the Dark Forest itself. But as she started humming a catchy tune, Camlys couldn’t help but hum along. Whitefoot rolled his eyes.
It was thus with high spirits and warm thoughts that they entered the deep dark heart of the forest, as immune from its spell as if it were just any old wood. The quest seemed to be progressing just fine, thank you. It was a good quest, yes. And right now it didn’t matter to them that it was one which a fourteen year old girl and fifteen year old wizard in training weren’t exactly custom-designed to accomplish. Good spirits pushed through branches into ever darkening gloom, and really didn’t notice it all that much – well, except for Whitefoot.
This promised to be his kind of place.
END 1-03-09 Version ©2009 Stu Shepherd
