Activity

*starts to cry* This is Colma’s last post… (You don’t have to read the stuff in italics, it was more for kicks)

Colma was already feeling threatened and uncomfortable.  The Wen girl had used magic on her, and her companion was yabbering about her past.  What did Colma care about that?

She had just begun to back up against the castle’s wall–because everyone knew having something solid behind you was a secure sensation–when a new man strode out from among the trees.

Colma barely had time to mutter, “Great.  Another psychopath,” before the wall against her back disappeared, just like when she had experienced her worst fear.  She toppled backwards into utter blackness and bit her tongue so hard that she tasted blood.  As abruptly as she’d fallen, Colma was sprawled across icy snow, a small campfire crackling next to her.  She sat bolt-upright and whipped her head around, bewildered and trying to find where she was.

She nearly gasped when she realized that she was back at her campsite–the place she had been before the castle craziness had started.

Colma shivered, pulled her deer skin blanket up to her shoulders, and stared hard into the fire, wondering how her mind could’ve been  imaginative enough to cook up the castle dream.  But as she shifted positions, pain splintered up her leg.  Colma ripped off her blanket and gawked at her injured leg.  She had wounded her leg in her dream, but wasn’t it just that?  A dream.

She examined her leg, then slowly shook her head.  Her axe was gone, too.  It couldn’t have been an illusion then.  Colma swiveled around to see the crack she’d originally crawled through, the one that had led to the insane situation.  But the rock face was flat, unbroken.

More mystified and confused than before, Colma twisted back around, thinking hard.

But a flash of bright red caught her eye.  She swung around.  On a snow-blanketed hill, which glittered in the frosty moonlight, a solitary, crimson fox stood stock-still, its muzzle pointed upwards as if it was trying to nose the clouds.  It didn’t resemble Brin, but something about the graceful sight calmed Colma.  The splash of scarlet among the white landscape  and the tree’s brown trunks was mesmerizing.

The lithe fox watched the cloud-swirling sky for another moment before cocking its head around, like it was looking at Colma.  She froze, afraid the slightest movement would frighten it away.  Glowing eerily, its pale amber eyes bored into Colma, who simply stared, heart beating loudly in her ears.

Finally, the fox nimbly bounded down the snowy hill, disappearing into the velvety night and leaving small, delicate footprints in its wake.

Colma sank down next to her fire, puzzled.  Since when did she take an interest in foxes?  Usually she would’ve killed it for food, but now it felt strange to consider that.  It almost seemed like doing so would be an insult to Brin, who Colma had regretfully never asked if all foxes could talk.

Exhausted, confused, and wondering if her time at the castle had changed her for the better–for now she valued life, the gift of life–Colma gazed unblinkingly into the fire, humming an old tune about a fox who had talked to a raven about winter and jumped over the moon.  Her mother had used to sing it to her when Colma was a child as a lullaby… Colma began to sing the lullaby, even though her voice cracked on the high notes and she couldn’t quite hit the low ones.  It sounded horrible, but none-the-less, her song rose to the tips of the skeleton tree’s branches, wafting up the frosty moon….

The last brown leaves withered and fell.

Fox looked at the bare trees, only a shell,

Of what they once were

in their red and orange whir

of color.

“Raven,” cried Fox,  “give me your advice.

The grass is gone, now only ice! 

The sun won’t shine.

For it we can only pine!”

“Naive Fox,” croaked Raven, “don’t you know?

“Winter has come, to put on a show!

“Fall’s only over, nothing to fear.  

“Lend me your ear,  

“like you would your mother!” 

Now lighthearted, Fox frolicked away. 

The tree’s bald branches seemed to sway, 

listening to their own song, 

Of icicles dripping, like a light gong.  

Fox stopped and looked into the sky.  

Shooting stars were zipping by.  

With a cry and a yelp, Fox jumped into the air.  

Fox flew higher until he passed Sun’s lair.  

“Fox,” rumbled Sun, “why are you here?” 

Fox only replied, “Winter is here!” 

Fox came to Moon, and told her the same.  

Moon scolded Fox for his silly game.  

“Silly Moon,” gekkered Fox. 

Get your mind out of your own box!” 

 Fox jumped over Moon, 

leaving her callin’ him a prune.  

Fox landed in the snow once more.  

His trip delighted him to the core.  

As he curled up to sleep, 

Raven landed on a branch to on him peep. 

“Fox,” sighed Raven, “I advise

For you to realize:

Seasons will never stay.  

One shall always keep the other at bay. 

So treasure the day

Before it’s taken away.” 

If Raven’s words were wasted, 

I shall not know, 

for Fox only dreamt of frolicking in snow.  

 

Sorry, that “song” Colma’s mother used to sing was really silly and poorly written, but I figured, “Hey, it’s a lullaby, aren’t they silly?” Plus, I don’t have time rn to write a good one XD