Soon the smell of cooking pheasant filled the air around the clearing. The fox anthro poked the cooking foul with a stick, pulling the meat apart to make sure it was cooked before removing it from the hot stone he was using as a skillet. He chewed his meal in silence, as is the way of a traveler. The evening sun sank continually lower in the sky. The fox anthro pointed his gaze towards the horizon. “I should be home by tomorrow.” He said to himself. Yawning, a bit drowsy from his meal, he made his way to a small stream he had passed earlier. Shedding his clothes, he waded in the water and began to clean himself. After his bath, he climbed back t the shore. He leaned against a tree and pulled out some twine he had received from one of his various trading excursions. He practiced tying knots over and over, but they kept coming loose. Finally, when he finally made one that stuck, he tied it to a bush and covered it with leaves. Satisfied with his “trap”, he headed off to bed.
The sun shone brightly through the canopy, making its way through the clearing and coming to rest on the fox. He sat up slowly, yawned and stretched. “Got a lot of ground to cover, better get moving.” He packed all his belongings in his backpack and made his way back down to the river to refill his canteen. He was about to leave, when he remembered about his trap. “Better go check on it.” He said. Upon reaching it, he noticed something strange. A small grayish-white lump was curled up where he had set his trap. “What the-?” He took a tentative step forward. The soft crunching sound of leaves sounded as his foot his something solid. He looked down and noticed a strange knife-like tool. He picked it up and examined it. A low growl made him look up. There, sitting where the gray lump had been, was now a gray spotted creature, glaring at him with fierce blue eyes.
Though she tried to look fierce, she couldn’t help but wonder how much of her fear was showing through. She had been hunting last night, when she scented something strange. She had gone to investigate, but ended up tripping into a trap. When she had tripped, he weapon had flow from her hands, just out of reach and the trap was made of a strange type of material that wouldn’t be cut by tooth or claw. “My knife.” She growled at the stranger. He stared back at her blankly. Was he dumb? Why was he just standing there? Maybe he's just scared. She thought. She softened her features as best she could and asked again. “My knife.” He continued to give her a blank stare. She flattened he ears in frustration. Perhaps he didn’t speak her tongue. She motioned to the rope that was looped around her ankle, cutting into the soft flesh slightly. He followed her gesture and gave her a puzzled look. She then made a sawing gesture and pointed again to her restraint. He reached in his pocket and took out the knife he had found and held it out to her. She smiled and nodded. Slowly, too slowly for her liking, he stepped forward and handed her the tool. She quickly began sawing away at the twine, but to no avail. All she had succeeded in accomplishing was making it tighten around her ankle. She winced slightly as fresh blood began flowing from the wound. She looked back at the red-furred stranger, fear showing openly in her eyes now. Alarm flashed through his features and he rushed forward, forgetting any fear he had towards her. His thin fingers worked nimbly at the knot, until finally she was free. He wrapped the rope up and put it back in his pack. The instant she was free, she shot up and ran; not looking back; not seeing the confused look on the red-one’s face; not noticing the trail of blood she was leaving behind until she felt dizzy from the loss of it and collapsed.
Who was that girl? He thought. I’ve never seen her kind before. He wanted to find her to make sure she was ok. After all, that rope had cut pretty deep. At first, he thought it would be hard to track her, considering the head start she had, but after a few seconds, he noticed the trail of blood she was leaving. As the trail went on, the amount of blood grew. Not much later, he found her again, curled up on the forest floor, a pool of blood forming at her feet. He rushed to her side and tearing off a piece of fabric from his shirt sleeve, began wrapping her ankle. He then took her in his arms and started back down to the stream. He set her on the shore, and took out his canteen, dousing her in water. Slowly her eyes blinked open and came to focus on him. “Are you ok?” She looked questioningly at him. He sighed. I guess she doesn’t speak the same language I do. He handed her his canteen. Again she looked quizzically at him. He took a drink from it then handed it back. This seemed to get the message across because she took it and after sniffing cautiously at it, she drank from it as well. “There now, don’t you feel a little better?” She smiled weakly up at him. He pulled out some deer jerky and handed that to her as well. “Eat this, it will help.” She sniffed at the food too, but quickly took it from his hand. She chewed it hungrily, but kept herself alert by swiveling her ears at every small noise. “So what’s your name?” Her ears angled at once to the sound of his voice. “Your name?” he asked again. She just continued chewing silently. He sighed again and pointed to himself. “Kairu.” She finished the last of the deer meat and thought a minute before pointing to herself and replying, “Myoko.” He nodded. “Where are you from Myoko?” She stared blankly at him. Kairu shook his head. “Never mind.” He let her finish the water from the canteen and then fill it back up before he stood up. “I’ve got to get back to my village; you’re welcome to come with me if you want.” He offered his hand to help her up. She tilted her head and eyed his extended hand warily. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you.” Though it didn’t seem like she understood him, she took his hand anyway and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.
The red-furred one was a strange creature. He spoke in a strange tongue and she was almost positive she had never seen anything like him before. He had a strange scent as well, woody, almost sweet. Somehow, as different as he was, she still felt as if he was at the very least, a safe traveling companion. She followed quietly behind him, angling her ears towards any sound, constantly on the alert. She sniffed the air that was blowing down off the mountains; it held a hint of sharp coldness. It would snow tonight. She wondered vaguely where she was being taken. Her ears swiveled towards Kairu; he was talking, or rather singing quietly to himself.
“The lonely street eclipsed the sun
until the sculptor had begun
to etch and mold a dream
which soon became a passing game
a sad forgotten scene
a face of yesterday…”
She listened to his melodic voice for a while, all other sounds fading into the distance.
“The builder laid his base of sand
and stretched his willing gentle hand
to seek the help, to shape the life
He had depended on
which fell like rain and snow
a face of yesterday…”
His voice rose and fell and wove itself through the lyrics masterfully.
“The man of music wrote a score
for several instruments or more
when they played together
then they found disharmony
A cluttered symphony
a face of yesterday…”