For Fox Sake

“Oh, great and powerful deity! We have waded through the roaring river, trekked through the wretched woods and scaled the mournful mountain to come before you and humbly ask for your help.” A deep voice echoed out around the hollow, startling the roosting birds.

I opened one bleary eye, disturbed from my morning nap. Two humans stood before me, heads bowed deeply, waiting for acknowledgement. It’s been a long time since I had new humans to play with.

I rose slowly, arching my back in a deep stretch and yawning. I perched myself on my enormous wooden throne, neatly tucking my tail under me. I stared down at the humans, the large one had an earthy smell of soil and… I sniffed the air, rotting vegetables? The smaller one had a sharper medicinal scent of elderflower and nettle. They looked alike, and young. The young ones were always fun. I cocked my head to one side and waited.

“Wise sage, as the guardian spirit of our village we seek your help,” the nettle scented human pleaded, “a plague has…” they trailed off as I raised one elegant paw and held it out in front of me expectantly.

The humans looked at me, puzzled. “Sorrel, do you think it wants something?” the flower one whispered. “Uhh…yes?” the human that smelled of dirt replied. It paused for a second then began cautiously inching closer to me, I raised my brow as they approached. It stopped in front of me, hand slightly raised, conflicting thoughts chased each other across its face. In a flash, determination replaced confusion and… it slapped my paw. The cleaner smelling one buried its face in its hands.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s what it wanted Fern” the earth scented human whispered, seeing the look on my face as I stared at my paw, “maybe it wanted a fist bump instead?” it suggested weakly. I looked up from my paw to the human’s face and gave an exaggerated sigh. I turned my back on them and returned to my nap.

The forest flashed past me as I bounded through the tree roots, hot on the heels of a plump delicious rabbit. I gracefully stretched my neck, opening my jaws, teeth poised to snap shut. The rabbit was in my reach when something made me stop in my tracks. The succulent scent of slow roasted meat infiltrated my dream. My whiskers twitched involuntarily as my eyes flew open. The humans had returned. In front of them a blanket laden with roast beef, duck and rabbit. My mouth watered.

I delicately jumped down from my throne and sniffed the spread before me. The aromas of floral rosemary, pungent garlic and rich onion gravy mixed with wafts of charred meat and deliciously rendered fat. It was irresistible, I set upon the feast with ferocity. The humans waited in silence for their opportunity to speak, occasionally glancing at each other. Shocked at my gracious approval, no doubt. I devoured every morsel, picked up a bone to savour and settled back into my spot.

The human named ‘Fern’ stepped forward and took a deep breath to steady itself. “Wise sage, as the guardian spirit of our village we seek your help. A plague has cursed our land; crops are wilting, our livestock is sick, fish are dying, and the village is running out of food. We don’t know what’s causing the sickness and we’re running out of time. Please, can you help us heal our home?” they both gazed up at me with desperate hope in their eyes.

Oh no, the river. I took a moment to think about my options. The taste of roast duck lingered on my tongue distracting me from my train of thought. Without livestock and crops there would be no more delicious feasts, but if I fixed the problem, the humans would be so thankful they would shower me with gifts and praise. I looked up at the nettle scented ‘Fern’ and nodded slowly. It beamed a bright grateful smile. I flicked my tail as a signal for the humans to follow me.

I led them to a clearing on the riverbank, encircled by tall hollowed out trees. A large wooden table sat in the centre of the glade littered with candles, utensils, books and scrolls with scrawled notes. Inside the hollowed trunks were shelves brimming with jars containing assorted liquids and fermenting animal parts, boxes overflowing with hundreds of variations of dried plants scattered between them. Piles of brass pots, pans and strangely shaped distilling equipment lined a blackened firepit close to the river’s edge. I examined the shelves as the humans studied their surroundings in awe. I pulled out some ingredients with my teeth and jumped up onto the table. I tapped my paw on the herbs, indicating to the humans that they should help me prepare the elixir.

We worked swiftly as evening passed and night fell. Grinding flowers, roasting seeds and mixing bright coloured liquids until the concoction glowed a luminous neon green. The Sorrel decanted the potion into a glass gourd. “What now?” it asked, I gestured towards the river. It handed the bottle to The Fern who approached the river’s edge. It held the mixture out at arm’s reach, tilting hesitantly.

“WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON HERE?” a voiced boomed from behind us. The humans both jumped, The Sorrel emitting a high-pitched shriek, The Fern swearing. I almost jumped out of my fur then flattened myself to the table, ears slick to my head. I let out a little whimper. “Who’s there?” The Fern demanded, whirling around to see who startled us. I bolted and hid under the nearest bush.

A tall slender figure slowly formed from the shadows surrounding the glade, clad in robes made from material as delicate as spiders silk. Bone coloured antlers protruded from hair the colour of bark, and deep green eyes stared at each of the intruders. The familiar scent of pine and daisies washed over me.

“My name is Briar, and you’re trespassing in my workspace” the newcomer said sternly, slowly walking towards the humans. I inched forward carefully, pushing my face through the leaves just enough to see the humans too. “What are you doing here?” the figure asked.

“We came to ask the deity for help healing our village,” The Fern replied “we tried everything, but the animals and crops are dying, and the village is depleting the food we had stocked for winter. The guardian spirit was about to help us fix everything” it finished indignantly.

“The guardian spirit was about to turn the river yellow and nothing more” the pine scented figure argued. “Finnick, get your furry behind out here.” Oh no. They turned towards me. I slowly crept out into the clearing; head bowed low. “He doesn’t know what half of these jars are and he’s certainly not a deity,” the daisy scented figure began to laugh.

“What? The fox isn’t our village guardian?” The Sorrel exclaimed, “but we gave it all our food!”

My master laughed harder. “Finnick, what did you do to the river?” they asked me. I laid my ears back and whimpered. “Come on, you’ve had your fun, what happened?” they pushed. I gestured towards the bushes behind them with my snout. My master turned and reached into the bush, discovering my shame. “Oh Finnick, you little monster. There will be no treats for a month for this!” they turned toward the humans, “this glade is where I feed the river the nutrients it needs to feed your village and keep the forest healthy. Finnick likes to help me work. I’ve been away for a few days and apparently, he decided to help. This box once contained arsenic.” They held up an empty ornate black box with a broken hinge.

“Why do you have that much arsenic?” The Fern asked, taken aback.

“I have my reasons” my master replied briskly. “I’ll heal the problems this little nightmare has created. I give you my deepest apologies, he will be punished appropriately for this.” My master bowed deeply.

I flipped around and bounded towards home while my master was distracted. The dark forest swallowed me as I slipped through the tree roots. The dense canopy too thick for the moonlight to filter through to the forest floor, the shadows hid me from my master’s disappointment. No amount of grovelling would get me out of this.