Chapter Two - First Awakening

2. First Awakening

Night had fallen and the full moon glowed high in the cloudless sky. Light trickled through the leafless branches of Creedy Wood, creating patterns on the ground below.
Nestled deep within the woodland lived a hollow oak tree, crowned with a multitude of ferns. Standing upon a small, steep island, the grand tree had split the river Creedy for centuries. Entwined ivy and moss grew thick upon its cracked bark, as if giving the tree a warm winter coat. Hidden behind
the heavy curtain of ivy vines, the tree’s torn trunk marked the narrow opening to Sorrel’s earth.

Down below ground the vixen had just given birth to a litter of cubs. Three tiny black bundles of fur squirmed close to their Mother’s belly, searching for warmth and milk. Their eyes were not yet open and their coats would remain dark for many weeks before they would transform into a rich golden colour.

Although exhausted, Sorrel licked them dry with great tenderness, making sure each pup was thoroughly clean and dry. She wondered which cub had Steren’s spirit and how she would know. How she missed her mate. So much had changed and so suddenly. At least I am not alone and he’s still with me, she thought. New life is so precious. I will not lose you again, she promised silently. Settling down on her side, she let out a satisfied sigh. As the cubs noisily began to feed she hummed to them softly.

A dog fox crouched nearby and, although handsome, his dull golden coat betrayed a life filled with hardships. A thick scar slashed clean across his right hind leg, the stretched tissue showing through his thick fur. The injury still caused him discomfort and had left with him a slight but permanent limp. Wanderer’s hazel eyes watched Sorrel attentively and then softened as he looked upon the cubs. He wagged his white tipped, bushy tail and counted the new born pups.

The vixen finally managed to pull her eyes from her cubs and as she smiled at Wanderer she filled him with happiness. She was grateful to have him by her side. He’ll be a good teacher and Uncle for the cubs, she thought. He reminds me of Steren. Her throat thickened with the memory of her mate. Pulling the cubs closer, she covered them with her thick tail. She gritted her teeth and decided she would tell Wanderer her plan to keep them protected. As she whispered to him the old fox nodded his head, but she could tell he did not approve.

At midnight Wanderer gave Sorrel an affectionate goodnight lick and turned to leave the earth. Friends had arrived and they were gathering around the oak tree, eagerly waiting for news. As soon as the fox appeared, Silverback the badger moved forwards from the group. When he lifted his head to greet Wanderer, the three white stripes on his face showed up clearly under the moonlight. Whitetail, his mate, could not contain her excitement. She rushed towards the fox, accidentally bumping against Rusty the otter, who had been looking the other way. Rusty swished his long, rudder-like tail to regain his balance and widened his beady eyes, cackling at her in surprise.

On a nearby tree stump Dusk the buzzard fluffed his brown chest feathers, his eyes twinkling with amusement. His partner, Flow, chose to ignore his chuckle and watched the fox attentively.

The anticipation grew within the group as Wanderer moved to stand atop the mossy mound beside the oak tree. He gave the animals a wide smile, “Welcome friends. Tonight we celebrate! Three new cubs have been born on this day. They are healthy and I’m confident the spirit of their Father lives on within one of them. Sorrel is recovering and bids you all her heartfelt thanks for coming here tonight.”

Silverback the badger grunted loudly in agreement and nodded his head with great pride, “This surely is excellent news. I have waited for this day ever since my Father told me of your brother’s birth. A day he was never to forget. He must have stood here, where I stand today, years later…so many years.”

His voice faded and his eyes glazed over, as if he was revisiting a distant past. Then he blinked and looked upon each creature in turn, Dusk and Flow the buzzards, Rusty and Ava the otters, Wanderer and his own lovely mate, Whitetail. He beamed at them all and in a deep rich tone he spoke the traditional words, “We thank The Spirits for continuing the line. May the chosen cub follow in his Father’s footsteps and continue the legend under a new name.”

“Hear, hear” called out Rusty the otter, licking his lips. Each animal had brought offerings of food for the feast and the brown otter had his eyes on a particularly plump pike.

Ava stared at her mate and then turned to catch Flow the buzzard’s eye. Earlier that day the bird had been flying overhead when she had caught the enormous brown fish. Flow answered Ava’s despairing look by raising her lower eyelid in a sympathetic wink.

Wanderer and Silverback had been exchanging quiet words on top of the old mossy mound and now they turned to speak to the small assembly. The animals cut short their rumbling conversations, looking up at them expectantly. “Well,” said Wanderer. He looked down, clearly at a loss of where to begin. The badger deliberately placed his paw on top of Wanderer’s paw and the fox began again. “This is a great event, but we must also remember the terrible tragedy that happened yesterday. Sorrel needs our support, now more than ever. I am sorry to say she has not come to terms with Steren’s death.”

The animals glanced at each other, each feeling the pain of Steren’s passing. A tear squeezed through Wanderer’s tightly closed eyes. Only Silverback heard him whisper, “If only...if it weren’t for my injury, I could have done something.”

Looking skywards the fox opened his eyes and continued at a volume the others could hear. “She has asked me to tell you, to ask you that the truth of their Father and of his reborn spirit be kept from the cubs. The legend must be kept silent for the time being.” He added, “She doesn’t want them to know of Man’s sport for hunting foxes either. That is until she decides they are old enough or the time is right.”

Wanderer hung his head low, his nose brushing the soft tips of moss. He looked weary. Below him the animals’ surprised expressions indicated this was the last thing they had expected.

Dusk raised his brown and white speckled wing to show he wished to speak. Wanderer gave him a slight inclination of his head.

“It must be painful for her, but she knew Steren’s destiny was to pass on his spirit into one of their cubs. This new generation must have been chosen by The Spirits. We all feel such joy to know Steren’s spirit has begun anew. Why does this not comfort her?” He fluffed his feathers, “We are all here to help and support your family, but I am not certain this is the best way forwards.”

After a long silence the animals turned back to wait for Wanderer to speak. Instead Silverback chose to defend the vixen by saying, “Sorrel was in love.” He threw up his striped face to gaze upon the luminous moon. “We all know how much love meddles with the mind. She is grieving. We cannot blame Sorrel for wanting to protect her cubs. They have just been born.”

The badger’s shoulders shook and his thick silvery coat rippled down his spine. He looked upon the animals and spoke steadily, “Let us see how time helps to heal her wounds. Eventually she will see that they need to know, that they must know. There will be time to prepare Steren’s heir, I promise you.”

The buzzard looked around him and then at his mate. He nodded his head slowly, “Yes of course, the cubs’ upbringing must be as their Mother wishes.”

A few hours later the celebrations began to wind down and the animals prepared to take their leave. Rusty the otter had just wolfed down a smelly pile of fishy remains and he spluttered loudly.

“Wait!” he gargled. Closing his eyes tight shut he swallowed again and let out a dry cough. “Be warned!” he spat. “The rivers are rising higher this year than we otters can ever remember. I reckon if things don’t calm down just one freak storm could cause all kinds of flooding. I fear Oak Tree Island might go under.”

By this time the otter had successfully gained everyone’s attention.

His whiskers quivered as he bared his teeth, “I blame Man and his meddlesome nature. Tearing up the land and wasting our water, never considering the consequences! Man has already broken nature’s balance. A balance all us wild creatures tried so hard to respect and protect. All for nothing! To be torn down!”

Rusty’s face was screwed up in anger. “Every year my winter home has been flooded! My Father never had this problem, it’s so unfair! All I ask for is warmth and shelter, but apparently this is too much to ask,” he snapped.

Still scowling heavily he concluded, “All this human destruction and greed was bound to lead to disaster for us all.” Without another word he swished his long, thick tail, propelling his body towards the water. The remaining animals looked quite taken aback and Dusk politely hid his smirk beneath his wing.

Ava the otter shook her head slowly, “You know what he’s like, always making a mountain out of a mole hill. I’m certain nothing untoward will happen,” she added.

Wanderer looked at her sympathetically and replied, “Don’t worry Ava, the cubs will be protected. Thank you all so much for coming, I’ll bid you farewell.”

The buzzards flapped up to their nest and Dusk called down, “Flow and I will keep lookout, get some rest old fox.”

Wanderer smiled broadly as he watched the badgers strolling across the river. Once the animals had disappeared he turned and quietly padded into the opening of Oak Tree earth.

Careful not to wake Sorrel, Wanderer breathed slowly and deeply, treading lightly down the tunnel. The warm, pleasant smell of the new family filled his nose as he entered the den. He sighed happily as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. All three cubs were snuggled together beside their Mother’s belly. He watched them sleeping and listened with amusement to their squeaking snores.

His face glowed with pride as he pondered, “The hunters will soon have an even greater fox to chase. I wonder which of you will take the place of honour, my brother’s spirit.”

A moment later he noticed one of the cubs was stirring. Although a newborn cub he wriggled and rolled away from his Mother and then shakily started to sit up. Much to Wanderer’s astonishment the cub wobbled back to sit on his hind legs and swayed slightly.

He blinked his eyes in surprise, and then quietly stepped forward to sniff the cub, whispering into his fluffy ears, “I remember you.”

Wanderer’s face was a picture of joy as he walked up the tunnel and into the open air. Leaping onto the mossy mound he lifted his head to gaze at the night sky. As he looked upon the moon he felt certain the cub’s future was going to be extraordinary.

“And it will have to be,” he growled.

On his way back to his own den he peered through the leafless trees and spied rain clouds approaching. He felt a shiver ripple up his spine. By the time he’d arrived home the wind had increased and the branches were scratching against each other. He didn’t like the eerie sounds. Pausing, he stared watchfully at the raging sky.

Back at Oak Tree earth the cub sat for some time, trying to make sense of the dark and mysterious world. I must remember who I am, he thought. Where was I before I came here? He simply couldn’t think clearly.

“I know... something,” he groaned. Soon his thoughts exhausted him so he returned to the warmth of his brother and sister. Releasing a loud sigh, he slipped into slumber.

Sorrel was sleeping a soundless, deep sleep when suddenly she had a strange sensation of being pulled through the darkness. What’s happening? she wondered. Why can’t I wake up? She began to feel afraid.

Then a very familiar voice spoke into her ear. “I am here, beautiful mate. You have nothing to fear, though I cannot stay in your dreams for long. Open your eyes and you shall see me.”