Week 23: Erin Oostra- Legend of the Long Lost Fire Fox
Full Prompt: “Legend of the long lost fire fox”
Story:
Agnija’s dark paw struck a stark contrast against the blank slate of the snow. Each step she trod left a shadowed indent in an otherwise pristine sheet of white. What had begun an amusing challenge to scale a mountain had quickly turned harrowing. The weather, as it does, had abruptly changed, making each step higher, further, all the more arduous. If not for her injured companion, she would have almost certainly cleared herself of incredible pain. But something deep inside the core of her would not allow Agnija to leave another creature behind. Especially an injured one. Her plight, all the more compounded in that, circumstances be different, she would be hunting her companion, rather than helping it.
***
In a lone grove of trees the slightest ember combusted. Out of nothing, a spark no bigger than a pinhead grew into a charred shape five feet in diameter. A curious spontaneity that failed to ignite any foliage around it, merely carving out a perfect circle in the earth. It held, at its center, an ember which grew as the circle did. The ember began to smoke and in an instant became whole and bore a creature. Its head lowered, eyes closed, smoke billowing off of its back, Agnija, the fire fox was born, once again.
She raised her head, a soot-seared sight, and opened her glowing yellow eyes only to close them. Her return to the earth heralded need. Aid. As it had time and time again, someone, some person, some creature, some group was in distress. A distress she could remedy. She closed her eyes in ponderance of how many times her efforts had been necessary. As she did every time she re-ignited, Agnija remembered the first time she had come to the aid of another. The time that would spark so many times after. The time she saved the bird.
***
The cold snow bit hard. Her circulation slowing far beyond her heart’s ability to pump warm blood through the tissue of her extremities. She knew her paws were close to frostbite. She had traveled so far up the mountain to prove a point- maybe to other foxes but certainly to herself; just that she could. Now in the dark, no sun to guide her, no warmth provided by it, her journey seemed foolish. No refuge or shelter in sight, stopping was not an option. The wind howled and the snow pounded her face. If she could just retrace her steps down the slopes, she knew she would survive. That is until she heard the call of another.
“Skreeee” a weak cry rang out. Cold, tired, and hungry, Agnija knew this cry to be that of a bird. A bird in distress. If it was grounded, she thought, it would make for easy prey. She followed the cry.
“Skree” it let out even weaker than before. Agnija located the source. It was indeed a bird in distress. A small one. A child. Its wing seemed to be broken. The thought of nourishing herself with such easy prey faded the moment she saw it. Overcome with empathy for the little creature’s plight, she stared at it. The small thing, this adolescent, had been used to simply flying from danger. Used to escaping to safety in a way that few animals could, but here it was. Stuck. Stuck on the mountain just as she was. It recoiled at her dark face and piercing eyes. This set her back for a moment, but only a moment. Seeing its natural predator, and in the state it was, she immediately understood how it must feel. This would be the first time the fox would save another, but far from its last.
***
Agnija slowly opened her golden eyes, smoke still billowing from her newly re-formed back, knowing whatever was to come would drain her; extinguish her entirely. She recalled her singular focus, her sole hope and responsibility in the world: to help other creatures. The thing she had not known so many years ago is that when the elements hear this, when they sense a heart that truly desires to be of assistance, a deal can be struck. The creator of all endowed the elements with power. Power to destroy, but also great power to heal. They aid in turning the earth and they, in turn, can imbue smaller creatures in their pursuits. And one of these creatures, one of the most powerful, had not been seen in many years.
Mashda, the legendary jackalope, whipped through the air, on a day like most others, when the smell of smoke first reached her small, pink nose. A scent carried across the winds directed her gaze to a billowing from a small grove of trees. No fire, just smoke, then a spark. Self contained and instantaneous. “Curious,” she thought, and corrected her course in pursuit of answers. She dismissed her first thought, as it was one she’d hoped for, but been let down by for far too many years. But as she flew quicker and closer, the question percolated in her mind: “could the long-lost firefox have finally been reborn?”
::To Be Continued::
