Dance
of the Bloody Fox
It had been ten moons now since she had died and
still Darkfox felt the pain as sharp as it had been that night. He remembered
it too clearly for comfort, too...Singingbrook's face as she had been torn by
the wyrsa teeth and claws...and her cries of pain...
...And how he had not done anything to stop it. How
his fear had immobilized him where he stood watching the bright splashes of
crimson fly.
He turned his eyes away from the fire and closed
them, willing tears not to fall.
Still the memories plagued him...Singingbrook's
face in times of happiness, her dazzling smile, her sparkling blue eyes.
Tears slid down his cheeks and he caught them with
his tongue.
"Darkfox," said a quiet female voice beside him.
Darkfox didn't look up.
"Darkfox," she said again, "you must let
Singingbrook go. Live among the living, Darkfox."
He turned back, agonized ice-blue eyes angry, and
said sharply, "You did not lose Brightleaf to a pack of wyrsa, so do not tell me what to do."
Her eyes were full of sorrow and her
silver-dyed-brown hair fell into her eyes. She brushed it out with a golden
hand. "Darkfox...can you not give us back Dancingfox?"
Darkfox's mouth tightened. "Dancingfox is dead
forever." He stood and stalked away from the fire, melding seamlessly into the
flickering forest.
She sighed and turned to the young man beside her.
"Brightleaf...he is worse than even I suspected..."
Brightleaf's eyes, specks of sky, peered down at
her. "You are pushing him too hard, ashke.
Far too hard. He will recover with time and patience, Redfox."
"He is my brother, Brightleaf...I know him better
than you," she said, a little angry. She shook her head, then. "But you are
right. I will leave him to himself, at least for now."
He smiled at her and she curled into his arms. "I
know it hurts you, ashke. But you
must forgive him for hurting you. He is blind, in his pain."
"You are too wise, shay'kreth'ashke." She smiled at him, too.
"We should sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day."
"Sleep?" her blue eyes held a devilish sparkle, "Or
something else?"
He smiled and took her hand.
***
Why
don't they understand? How can they all be so stupid? They don't know how much
it hurts! Gods, none of them do! Darkfox pounded his fist
into his pillow and bit his lip as tears streamed down his face. Oh, Singingbrook, Singingbrook...my love,
how I miss you...
Singingbrook's contagious laughter echoed in his
ears above the sound of his own sobs. It was like a piece of his soul had been
torn out when she'd died. Her last words...they hadn't even been words of love
to him, anything that could be recorded as great words...they had only been two
choked, stuttering words...
"It hurts."
And then Darkfox had turned. And he'd run. Of all the things to do, he'd run. It still haunted him.
They had found what remained of Singingbrook the
next day. A scout team, after a pale Darkfox--Dancingfox, then--had run into
the vale with tears down his cheeks and torn clothing.
Darkfox, who was an adult. He had acted like a
child and run. And cried in front of everyone.
He sobbed into his pillow.
Another sleepless night...
***
"Darkfox?" Redfox pushed the flap of Darkfox's tent
open and looked in.
He was asleep, turned on his side, curled in a
fetal position.
She sighed and let the flap drop. At least he fell asleep. There had been
far too many mornings when she'd found Darkfox still sobbing in his pillow.
Redfox turned to find Brightleaf standing behind
her offering her a cup of tea. She accepted it with a small smile.
"He is asleep?" Brightleaf inquired, looking past
her at the tent.
She nodded and sipped her tea. "He is."
"Good," said Brightleaf firmly, placing his hands
on Redfox's shoulders and leaning to place his lips against her cheek. "Good."
"I do not think he will sleep much longer, though,"
said Redfox softly. "He was still crying in his sleep, I am sure."
Brightleaf pulled away and his bright blue eyes
were pained. "He needs someone."
She nodded, her hand clasping Brightleaf's. "I
know...but he will not speak of anyone but Singingbrook."
"He will with time. Time, time, ashke." Brightleaf's fingers entwined
with hers.
There was a noise from the tent and Redfox's eyes
jerked over to it. Darkfox, silver hair mussed and tangled, and ice blue eyes
reddened with dark circles under them, stumbled out. "Good morning," he said,
voice hoarse.
"Is it?" Brightleaf arched an eyebrow.
Darkfox turned away, leaned against the tent, and
his shoulders shook for a few moments. When he turned back his eyes were wet.
"No," he said brokenly, and sat down to pour himself a cup of tea.
"I am sorry for upsetting you," Brightleaf said,
face full of concern. "I should not have--"
Darkfox's voice cut him off. "There is no need to
apologize. It is I who should apologize for becoming upset so easily." He bent
to drink his tea, an obvious sign that he did not want company.
Redfox and Brightleaf turned away almost in unison
and walked to their own tent.
***
The fire flickered in the waning light of the moon,
bathing Darkfox's face in light and shadow, ebony and gold.
There was an opressive silence in the clearing and
Redfox and Brightleaf looked to each other.
"Do not try it," said Darkfox simply, lacing his
fingers.
Brightleaf gave a slight sigh. "We want you to be
happy, Darkfox."
"Happiness is not something I know," said Darkfox.
"Perhaps someday I will know it again. Perhaps."
"Brother," said Redfox, "you know we care for you."
"I know," said Darkfox. He pursed his lips and his
brow furrowed.
"We love you, Darkfox," murmured Brightleaf.
Darkfox's eyes snapped to Brightleaf, angry now,
and he opened his mouth to reply when a thin wail came through the trees and
Redfox snapped to alert, her hand going to the knife at her belt.
Brightleaf's hand was on her arm immediately. "It is
no animal, ashke. It is a child."
Darkfox's icy eyes unfocused. "Boy-child," he said,
"I cannot get any more from him...boy-child, in distress..."
Redfox leapt up and Brightleaf followed. "We must
go," she insisted, "we must, Darkfox. Come with us, brother. Please."
Darkfox stood slowly, as if in a trance, and
snatched his bow from its position lying by the fire. "I will come," he said,
and began to walk in the direction the wail had come from.
***
Redfox peered through the brush into a very small clearing
and drew her knife silently. Blood. It was all over, soaking the grass crimson,
splattered on the trees. She felt something under her foot and looked down…to
see part of what had once been a human body.
Her stomach lurched but she simply turned to
Brightleaf and motioned towards the clearing.
A sound leapt up from within, suspiciously
like…human sobbing, the kind of hoarse sobs that only came when one had been
crying too long. Darkfox knew the sobs all too well.
He stepped forward into the clearing.
A boy was bent over, sobbing, great ripping dry
sobs that wracked his slender body. His hands, which were clutching his sides
as if he might fall apart any moment, were soaked and dripping in starving
crimson.
Darkfox's blue eyes widened slightly and he knelt
before the boy and reached to pull the boy's hands away from his sides. "What
happened?"
The boy's sobs paused and he looked up and opened
eyes the color of flawless rubies. His lip was cut, deeply, in two places and
the blood had dribbled down his chin and onto his neck, where two more slashes
dripped crimson. "I'm sorry," he gasped hoarsely.
Darkfox stood and backed away to the edge of the
clearing. Blood continued to trail slowly down the boy's porcelain-colored
smooth skin, creating cherry designs.
"I'm sorry," the boy gasped again, his hollow eyes
locking with Darkfox's. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, it wasn't my fault,
please, please, I'm sorry."
He stood, swaying on unsteady feet, and his white
hair fell into his face. "Please, I'm sorry," he repeated.
And he collapsed into Darkfox's arms.
