The Fox Girl and the Woman Fox
the day turned into night | Steven Valladares Orellana | photography
The Fox Girl and the Woman Fox by Midori Golike
As the girl padded down the tree-eaten trail,
the sky dim and dank, thick with a cloud veil,
the path become quiet, no persons in sight,
leaving merely a fox to linger amongst the brush.
The girl blinked and the orange had vanished,
but the air remained feeling dark and tarnished.
Nonetheless the girl hurriedly moved forward,
for her brother waited in a small house up ahead.
There was a chirp from close behind the girl,
but she found the path empty upon her whirl.
Her hands holding each other, she turned back
and there the fox was, poised still before her.
The girl stepped back and averted her gaze,
trying to walk like the fox were a haze,
but the creature wound itself around her legs,
making her trip and fall flat instead.
The animal lightly leaped onto her back,
claws poking into her clothes around her pack.
It padded forward onto her shoulders
and murmured softly, “Hello, granddaughter.”
The girl flailed, knocking the fox onto the street
and sprinted down the path on two steady feet.
The fox came languidly loping right along,
its face patronizing, pitying.
“Your mother attempted the same cursed feat,
but she was discovered and turned into meat.
Her lover felt betrayed and betrayed her in turn;
don’t follow in her footsteps; follow my paws.”
“A lover was a risk,” the girl stopped and hissed.
“This one is like me, as easily dismissed.
He is like a little brother, but we agree
that we both keep our secrets as long as we stay.”
The fox scoffed, “an empty promise, my dear.
He’d flee upon knowing how you truly appear.
Human will stick only to human, always,
and you should have the same loyalty to your own.”
The girl remained silent and started walking once more,
and the fox followed her, reciting more lore.
“We’ve survived so long on tricks and schemes,
all the others leave, and only blood remains true.”
The girl replied firmly, looking forward straight,
“But everything of our blood is fraud and bait;
there is no truth behind your tangled words.
How can you expect for anyone to stay?”
“Dear little granddaughter, this is your gift.
Use them well, and your view shall surely shift.
You are still young, a mere little kit,
but soon you will learn the tricks of our trade.”
“I’ve learned something else,” the girl said, certain.
“I've learned love, caring, support as a human,
more than anything I’d learn as a fox.
I haven’t shifted, and I will never need to.”
With all that, the girl strode on forward.
With no tail or pointed ears she went onward.
Firmly up the trail toward the small house
where a small boy waited, smiling for her return.
The older fox watched the younger rush away,
her worn golden eyes watching every steady sway.
She trailed behind the young woman until
the shifted fox ducked into a thin house.
The grandmother shifted into the human race
as she heard the two greet and embrace.
She lit a fire with rough, long fingers
and held it by a small window, hiding her hand.
She imagined the light flitting into the room;
she imagined shadows flickering in the gloom;
she imagined the boy yell out in fear;
she imagined the kit returning to her.
But no scream interrupted the talk inside,
no accusation of anger that she had lied.
The two continued to share food and tales,
a quiet peace enveloping the pair of them.
The old fox shifted back and circled to the front.
She nudged open the door with a soft grunt,
and saw the two huddled by the window,
peering out to see the cause of the flame.
The thick clouds parted, spilling light to land;
the boy turned to surely see the shadows expand.
A dark fox was pasted onto the floor,
its pointed ears perked and its tail a poof.
The old fox backed up but kept her eyes fixed.
Her shoulders tensed; her legs strained; her teeth clicked.
Her granddaughter remained at the window.
The boy saw the shadow in the square of light.
He sat
right back
down and the
girl turned back around
with a bright, soft
smile on her
fox-like face.
She never again
saw her grandmother, but
every bit of orange made her turn,
every glimpse of black ears made her
heart burn. She startled at the sight of
golden eyes, no matter how much more
she grew wise. It was a long while until
she shifted back, a while with loss
and ache that had made her soul
crack. But there was fulfillment
and she returned to the forest
when she was done, a home
that was eternal, but that
was not the only one.