Walt the Badger

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Walt never cared. Walt is a badger, and a grumpy one at that. None of the other animals of the forest, even talk to Walt. Some, have tried. But too much has happened to Walt, for smiles to come all that easily to Walt anymore. Or nice words. Or even, butterflies.

Walt is the oldest badger in this forest. It's an extremely old forest. The Redwoods soar high into the air around him as he forages for earthworms and berries in the soft, damp dirt. This is his morning routine, after he wakes up from a long slumber in his badger-hollow.

Sometimes, birds arrive in pairs to watch Walt forage for berries. Walt knows they're watching. It's not that he cares, but he doesn't not care either. He would prefer that they leave. He listens to their idle twittering in the distance. Sometimes, they're two tweets shy of making Walt turn around and tell them, on no uncertain terms, to just leave. But Walt hasn't done this to birds yet. They tend to keep their distance.

Walt appreciates being left alone. The other animals weren't that nice to Walt, a long time ago. He does remember. Sometimes, he takes the earthworms in his mouth to the top of the waterfall, to eat them on the flat stone by the rushing waters. Nobody knows why Walt does this, only Walt knows. Walt knows a lot. He is some kind of legend in this forest, just, no parties are ever thrown for Walt. It's not that every one of the animals don't like Walt, it's just that enough animals have not liked him before, to somehow make him this way.

Bear likes Walt. They don't talk, but Bear understands Walt. Just not completely. Bear will let his cubs play close to Walt. This is about as close as any animal gets to Walt in this forest, and Walt doesn't mind Bear letting his cubs play near him. But Walt usually just turns around when the cubs are staring at him, watching him.

One day, Walt awoke in his badger-hollow. He noticed something was, different. His sleepy eyes, became very perceptive. He looked up at the mouth of the hollow. Purple light was dancing over the entrance to the hole. Walt took one step back, on a badger-leg.

Slowly, he walked up to the mouth of the burrow, and emerged into the purplish light. He was surrounded, by glowing purple clouds. They masked the usually immense trunks of the Sequoias in a colorful fog.

Walt's mind worked quickly. What was this? Up until now, the clouds had never come near the tops of the trees, let alone the forest floor. Humans? No. They never came around this place. Faeries, maybe. But, Walt had never seen a faerie, only heard of them. Likely not. In any case, Walt didn't trust this scenario for a moment. But, there was nowhere to go.

Slowly, Walt realized, he was probably going to have to say something. At least, if he wanted the cloud to leave. It certainly wasn't being useful. In fact, it prevented Walt from even knowing the time of day. So he waited, thinking of what to say, for some time.

Eventually, he spoke up.

"This better not be some New Age thing."

Silence. Walt shifted uncomfortably. Most of the usual sounds of the forest were absent - crickets, birds, a distant frog croaking, all these sounds had vanished. Only a quiet wind swayed the branches, far above him, out of sight. Walt was getting angry.

"Someone, put someone up to this. I don't think I have to tell you, that I'm not pleased, at all. I'm not going back to sleep, until this, is over."

Silence again filled the forest, touched only by the breeze. Walt began to feel several feelings that Walt doesn't usually feel. Fear, being one of them. Fear, is a rabbit feeling. But Walt was feeling fear.

"If you have some business with me, speak. Or, leave me alone, to my burrow."

Quietly, but steadily, a small sound started to approach Walt through the glowing purple mists. Now, normally, this was not a sound that just any animal could hear. But Walt's senses were finely attuned. It was a familiar, but somewhat rare, tiny leaf-spring sound that he heard. It was springing towards Walt.

A small, green grasshopper emerged from the ethereal fog, hopping straight up to Walt. Walt looked at it steadily as it approached him. It slowly hopped to a stop.

"Hello, Walt," the grasshopper said in a deep voice.

"What's this about?" Walt replied.

"I, have no idea," said the grasshopper.

"Well, neither do I," Walt said gruffly.

There was a quiet pause after Walt's words.

"Have you managed to make some sense of any of this?"

"No, Walt," the grasshopper said.

"Wait, how do you know my name?" Walt's question was rough, like tree bark.

"We all know your name around here, Walt," was the grasshopper's reply.

Walt was more than a bit taken aback, his coarse badger-hair raising slightly.

"Why is that?"

"Oh, I don't know, we just do," the grasshopper said, looking around at the violet mists. The small insect looked back at Walt.

"Do you think faeries did this?"

Walt huffed. "I thought they might have, but then I thought it unlikely. Where are the other animals?"

"The only other animal I've seen so far, is you," the grasshopper replied.

A look of concern came over Walt. He searched the grasshopper with his beady eyes.

"How long have you been, hopping?"

"Miles."

"Miles?" Walt quickly looked down at the forest floor, in deep concern. He looked up at grasshopper slowly. "What do you mean, miles?"

"I mean miles. I'm exhausted. I had to stop for dew three times."

Walt looked to his side, then back to the grasshopper, who was still looking around. "Uh, do you, need some water? I can take you to a pond nearby."

"No, that's okay. Thanks though, Walt."

It suddenly struck Walt, that even though this grasshopper came from miles away... He still knew Walt's name.

Walt shifted his badger-weight, and furrowed his brow.

"What do you think, will make this go away?"

"Well, what if it never goes away?" grasshopper replied.

Walt looked at grasshopper intently. "But, the other animals. Where are they? Are they safe?"

"Well, I really don't know," said the grasshopper, as he rubbed his legs together. "You're much older than I am. I thought you might know."

Walt looked behind himself at his burrow, then back at the grasshopper. "No, I don't."

The tiny grasshopper looked back at Walt. "Well, if you don't know, then I'm just going to keep hopping along."

A tiny, sharp pain went through Walt's badger-heart.

"Alright then, take care," Walt said.

"You as well. Goodbye, Walt."

The grasshopper then bounded along in long leaps, continuing in its previous path, until it disappeared into the purple mist again.

Walt looked up at the shifting clouds for some time, breathing badger-breaths. He couldn't see the sun, or the stars. The air was humid, like it was a water-cloud. Walt turned around, and went back into his badger-home.

The next day, Walt stirred inside his burrow. He groaned with age. He opened his eyes, then remembered what had happened the night before. He opened both eyes fully. He was facing the dark, far end of his burrow. An emotion crept up on Walt. It was rabbit-fear. It paralyzed him.

After a long while, Walt summoned the courage to turn around towards the entrance to his cave. The morning sun was shining down on the entrance to his burrow. Walt breathed a heavy sigh of relief, his breath escaping in a long warm vapor against the morning cold.

He paused there, again, for some moments. He started walking towards the entrance, over twigs and dirt, and emerged into the light.

A snake was slithering along the ground some distance away from the burrow. Walt had a thought to ask it about the purple clouds last night, but then, he dismissed it.

"Hey!" Walt yelled.

The snake hissed in surprise, raising itself. It turned to face Walt.

"Yesss?" the snake asked.

"Good, morning."

"Good morning to you, Walt," the snake replied, its forked tongue darting back into its mouth.

Walt nodded at the snake. The snake slowly turned its gaze back towards where it was headed, dipped it down to the ground, and slithered on.

Walt looked up at a branch where the birds usually sat, and twittered. The branch was empty. He wished it wasn't, today.