Fable 3: The Otter and the Owl

A/N: Hello Dear Reader,

I have decided to write 10 fables (some modern and some traditional) inspired by the great Aesop! This is the third instalment. Enjoy! Please Like Comment and Subscribe!

-TWW

There was once a family of moles, living near a riverbank. They perused their series of tunnels and were careful not to dig into muddy areas. One dusk, during a drought, the ground was hard and dusty. A mole dug upwards in search of moisture, or perhaps a worm or two. He broke the surface and sniffed around. When he did, an otter leaped from the river and clamped the mole in its teeth. Squealing, the mole grappled for solid ground, blindly. He felt cold water surround him and resigned himself to death, very quickly.

Nearby, there was an owl, sitting in a tree, observing the molehills left by the moles. She liked to do so as she found nearby rodents liked to browse the hills late at night: prime hunting grounds. She saw a kerfuffle splashing in the river below and used her razor-sharp eyesight to spot the otter, with the mole clutched in its teeth.

The owl swooped down and pecked at the otter, demanding they release the mole. The otter, not expecting such resistance when hunting under the cover of night, exclaimed their annoyance as a particularly persistent peck stabbed them in the eye. The otter let go of their prey, stunned.

Quickly, the owl grabbed the mole, careful not to catch him with her talons as she did and flapped her wings fast to climb the bank and place the mole back on solid ground. With a sniff of thanks, the mole soon found its way back under the ground, using its large hands to scoop the dirt away.

"Oh, you there! What did you do that for? You robbed me of a perfectly good supper!" The otter’s head peaked above the riverbank, glaring at the owl, with one stinging eye closed.

The owl scoffed at his disrespectful tone. She shouldn’t have to share her wisdom with the likes of the otter, no. She flew back to her perch above the molehills, ready to wait for her own supper to appear.

"Ho, there! Owl!" the otter shouted angrily.

She ruffled her feathers and faced away from him.

The otter slinked further onto the shore, his teeth bared.

"I say, OWL!"

The owl sighed, exasperated, and spread her large wings. She glided silently and fast down to the otter, perching on the bank. She had made sure to flash her impressive talons at the otter as she flew.

"Yes?" she asked darkly

"Well, I was just –" the otter stuttered, intimidated by her gaze, "You took my catch from me and-".

The owl continued to stare, her eyes becoming impossibly larger to the otter.

The otter took a deep breath.

"You took my catch from me, and gave me a good peck in the process, I might add. Why did you do that, owl?"

The owl examined the otter, gathering information. The otter was skinny, the owl noted. Perhaps their supper was quite important after all.

"The molehills attract mice." She stated matter-of-factly.

The otter stared at the owl blankly.

We can eat the mice.’ She continued.

The otter blinked. The owl rustled her feathers.

"If we eat the moles, there will be no more molehills, and the mice won’t come."

The otter sighed in defeat.

"This time of year is hard for us, no fish. That mole would have made a fine meal. Say, is that really true, about the mice?"

The owl nodded.

"Owl, you are wise, but I am afraid that I spent the last of my energy getting that mole. I think I may be done for."

"We all face the end of our lives, otter." The owl stated.

The owl flew back to her perch, but through the coming nights, she couldn’t get the skinny otter out of her head. To rob the poor creature of a life-saving meal weighed heavily on the owl, despite her nonchalant words that night.

Nevertheless, the molehills continued to attract mice and the owl was soon catching more than she could eat. After some consideration, she made sure to ‘accidentally’ drop some into the nearby river until the skinny otter started to fill out across his ribs again. The owl felt her charity to be fulfilling. While her belly was often full, this time, so was her heart.

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Moral: Wisdom is gained by observation, and kindness is observed by those wise enough to gain from it.

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A/N: Hi there! I hope you enjoyed this fable! I enjoyed writing it! I have found a good system by which I use two or three animals with the same letter at the start of thier names as a way to start. I then write thier traits - and off I go!

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My best to you all,

ThatWriterWoman