Shownotes
Exiled for loving another man, Kiuru struggles to survive a prehistoric wilderness. All seems lost until he meets a stranger beneath the ice.
Today’s story is “Reflections” by SakaraFox, who really appreciated Rob offering his time to help finish this, & Rob MacWolf, who’s happy to help. You can find stories from both of them in the award-winning anthology When The World Was Young by The Furry Historical Fiction Society, and you can find more on Fur Affinity or SoFurry.
Read by Dirt Coyote, lately of twitter dot com.
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https://thevoice.dog/episode/reflections-by-sakarafox-rob-macwolf
Transcripts
Today’s story contains subject matter some listeners may find disturbing.
Speaker:If description of thoughts and impulses related to self-harm may be upsetting for you,
Speaker:please skip this one
Speaker:and come back for another story,
Speaker:another time. You’re listening to Pride Month on The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:Today’s story is
Speaker:“Reflections” by SakaraFox,
Speaker:who really appreciated Rob offering his time to help finish this, & Rob MacWolf, who’s happy to help. You can find stories from both of them in the award-winning anthology When The World Was Young by The Furry Historical Fiction Society,
Speaker:and you can find more on Fur Affinity
Speaker:or SoFurry. Read by Dirt Coyote,
Speaker:lately of twitter dot com.
Speaker:It has often been asked,
Speaker:by those who do not understand or do not wish to,
Speaker:why we insist so much on our
Speaker:‘identity.’ Surely, they say,
Speaker:this cannot be healthy.
Speaker:They imply it another of the issues
Speaker:—higher rates of alcohol and drug abuse, self-harm, eating disorders,homelessness
Speaker:—that statistically we suffer more than do
Speaker:straight people. As if this somehow proves those identities to be illegitimate.
Speaker:But honest eyes will see:
Speaker:all these things happen not because our identities are false,
Speaker:but because they are true.
Speaker:These are things done to us, by a society that does not wish to see such identities.
Speaker:To place all our hopes in the identities we assert is both an act of defiance,
Speaker:and all too often the only option.
Speaker:Even if it must be done by believing,
Speaker:by force of will alone,
Speaker:in the possibilities we see in our own:
Speaker:“Reflections” by SakaraFox & Rob MacWolf The silence that accompanied the Hearth Season was deafening.
Speaker:The once comforting hum of the forest, the worble of grouse,
Speaker:the buzz of insects and even the rustling of the leaves was replaced by an eerie nothingness.
Speaker:Like the endless snowfall had smothered all that lived in the world.
Speaker:There was only an empty forest now,
Speaker:dead even, all except a lone white wolf who shuffled along a frozen stream.
Speaker:If someone had found him, they might have mistaken Kiuru
Speaker:for a phantom. His face was
Speaker:gaunt from starvation,
Speaker:his whole body shivering violently as the ragged leather tunic and leggings offered little respite.
Speaker:Kiuru counted himself lucky to have grabbed a pair of beaver skin boots before he had fled,
Speaker:but even the seams on them had split and let icy water soak
Speaker:his bruised footpaws.
Speaker:Kiuru’s head was bowed as he walked,
Speaker:eyes fixed on the ice ahead of him.
Speaker:It was so thick he could see small perch frozen within,
Speaker:beyond the reach of his rudimentary tools.
Speaker:The mere sight of them made him yearn for a hot meal,
Speaker:his stomach growling and drool dripping from his muzzle.
Speaker:Desperately, he shoved a paw into a small sack that hung from his shoulder,
Speaker:seizing a meagre cut of dried fish that he shoved into his muzzle.
Speaker:It tasted mouldy as he chewed loudly,
Speaker:and yet so good at the same time.
Speaker:Even in spite of their cruelty,
Speaker:his tribe had never starved him.
Speaker:It was maddening As he swallowed,
Speaker:Kiuru stopped for a moment and turned his face towards the grey sky above.
Speaker:He opened his mouth to offer thanks to the spirits, but hesitated.
Speaker:After all, why should he?
Speaker:It felt as though the spirits were mocking him for something the wolf could not control.
Speaker:Perhaps he was naive to think The Bear Mother, Ӓikarhu,
Speaker:would be any more sympathetic than her people.
Speaker:His people. Though,
Speaker:they never treated him as such.
Speaker:Standing there in the snow, Kiuru’s
Speaker:mind began to wander as he watched his breath rise as a fine mist.
Speaker:His thoughts were the only company he had now.
Speaker:And if the wolf were honest,
Speaker:he wished they would be silent too.
Speaker:Give up, go back to them. You will
Speaker:only find death here.
Speaker:Maybe I deserve that.
Speaker:Slowly, the wolf’s trembling legs gave out beneath him,
Speaker:and he fell to his knees.
Speaker:He pressed his face into his paws and sobbed,
Speaker:a tightness wrapping itself around his heart and squeezing from it the last of his hope.
Speaker:The demons’ whispers spoke true,
Speaker:he would sooner wither away than go back to his people.
Speaker:On that fateful night, only one turning of the moon past, he had
Speaker:finally had enough.
Speaker:The shouting, the insults,
Speaker:the beatings, so many memories burning his delirious mind like his face had been shoved
Speaker:into a roaring fire.
Speaker:He muttered feebly under his breath, begged
Speaker:them to go away,
Speaker:clutching his skull and digging into his fur with his sharp claws.
Speaker:And then, he heard a twig snap.
Speaker:In an instant, the demons in his mind retreated and instinct took over.
Speaker:The wolf lifted his head,
Speaker:turning towards the source of the sound,
Speaker:where he found what could only be described as
Speaker:a miracle. There, beneath a crooked birch tree,
Speaker:stood a reindeer.
Speaker:It was pawing at the snow with one of its hooves, searching for hidden food beneath,
Speaker:unaware of the white wolf kneeling only a few strides distant.
Speaker:It was only a small one,
Speaker:probably as starved as Kiuru,
Speaker:but food was food.
Speaker:The wolf’s eyes seemed to glow brighter as he lifted himself into a crouching position,
Speaker:grunting under the weight of his own body.
Speaker:He slipped his makeshift bow from around his shoulders and took a blunt arrow from his sack.
Speaker:It wasn’t much, but Kiuru
Speaker:had to make it work.
Speaker:He wouldn’t have a second chance. Whispered curses filled the wolf’s muzzle as he fumbled with the arrow, his numb fingers struggling to line the arrow up with the bowstring.
Speaker:It took multiple attempts
Speaker:until he was finally able to knock it,
Speaker:but the reindeer was already on the move again.
Speaker:Its hooves crunched awkwardly through the snow,
Speaker:long legs trembling like Kiuru’s own.
Speaker:It had left the shelter of the trees that lined the stream
Speaker:and begun to move towards him,
Speaker:still oblivious to the hunter’s presence.
Speaker:As it approached,
Speaker:Kiuru sank lower and lower,
Speaker:until the base of bow tapped the
Speaker:ice beneath him.
Speaker:Another curse escaped his muzzle in a puff of mist,
Speaker:his heart pounding
Speaker:like a ritual drum.
Speaker:Just a little closer.
Speaker:The wait felt like an eternity,
Speaker:the reindeer hesitating every few steps, its ears swiveling to check for predators.
Speaker:Each time the wolf thought it had
Speaker:finally gotten wise to him,
Speaker:his heart seizing in his chest,
Speaker:until his prey bowed its head and inched forward a
Speaker:few more steps. Closer,
Speaker:closer, until the reindeer was no more than three arm-lengths away from the wolf.
Speaker:It was now or never.
Speaker:With what little strength his emaciated body possessed,
Speaker:Kiuru jumped upright.
Speaker:The reindeer recoiled,
Speaker:stumbling in the snow for just long enough for the wolf to aim his shot.
Speaker:Before either of them could draw another breath,
Speaker:the bowstring snapped forward
Speaker:and the arrow sped forward.
Speaker:The reindeer reared up onto its hind legs,
Speaker:letting out a terrifying cry that sent Kiuru
Speaker:falling backwards as the wolf covered his face.
Speaker:But rather than defend itself,
Speaker:the reindeer bucked
Speaker:and shook his head,
Speaker:an arrow stuck
Speaker:deep in its neck.
Speaker:For the first time in many moons,
Speaker:Kiuru felt his muzzle curl into a smile.
Speaker:But it wouldn’t last long.
Speaker:As soon as the wolf
Speaker:pushed himself upright,
Speaker:the reindeer suddenly wheeled about
Speaker:and leaped onto the ice,
Speaker:charging away in a frantic retreat.
Speaker:The wolf gave chase, tossing his bow over his shoulder
Speaker:and sprinting after it like a frenzied bear.
Speaker:Suddenly the forest opened up,
Speaker:and Kiuru found himself sprinting across a wide open meadow covered in thick snow.
Speaker:At least, he thought it was a meadow,
Speaker:until a gut feeling told him something was very wrong.
Speaker:It didn’t matter,
Speaker:he just had to ignore it.
Speaker:The white wolf was rapidly closing the distance to the reindeer,
Speaker:its own body failing as the crimson trail it left in its wake grew thicker.
Speaker:Its doom only became more certain with each pounding heartbeat.
Speaker:Fumbling with his sack again,
Speaker:Kiuru felt around for a knife or an arrow,
Speaker:or even a heavy enough hammerstone would do.
Speaker:The wolf wasn’t even sure what he would do when he caught it,
Speaker:but he would figure something out, whether by the mercy of an arrow
Speaker:or the savagery of his own claws.
Speaker:But he would never find out.
Speaker:The winds of fate would turn against him once more.
Speaker:Just as the limping reindeer looked like it was ready to collapse,
Speaker:Kiuru heard the very ground beneath his boots groan.
Speaker:It was an otherworldly sound,
Speaker:like the yawn of a great phantom bear,
Speaker:followed by a sharp crack!
Speaker:Too late he realised his mistake,
Speaker:digging his ragged boots into the snow and skidding to a halt as the whole earth heaved beneath him.
Speaker:So violently did it move that the reindeer was thrown onto its side,
Speaker:letting out a mournful bellow before a roar of crackling
Speaker:ice drowned it out.
Speaker:Through desperate eyes,
Speaker:Kiuru watched as the ice beneath the reindeer gave way.
Speaker:In an instant, the intimidating creature was swallowed whole by a gaping maw of dark water.
Speaker:“No,” Screamed the wolf,
Speaker:his voice hoarse and filled with sorrow, “you can’t do this to me!”
Speaker:Even as the ice continued to shift beneath him,
Speaker:Kiuru leaped for the edge of the all-consuming maw.
Speaker:He stared into the inky black water,
Speaker:eyes welling up with tears as he struck the ice with a balled fist.
Speaker:“Why do you torture me?
Speaker:Haven’t I been through enough!?”
Speaker:His words echoed through the empty clearing,
Speaker:finding no willing ears to listen.
Speaker:The spirits, the very forest itself,
Speaker:had forsaken him. No,
Speaker:they took pleasure in his suffering.
Speaker:“Curse you River Spirits!
Speaker:Curse you Ӓikarhu! Curse you
Speaker:all!” The wolf howled into the sky,
Speaker:before his voice finally cracked and he collapsed into a heap of sobs and sniffles.
Speaker:Tears streamed down his muzzle as he lay there,
Speaker:unmoving. The ice had settled now,
Speaker:yet he still begged it to swallow him too.
Speaker:Why go on letting the spirits torture him?
Speaker:He had fled his tribe to make his own destiny,
Speaker:free of their control,
Speaker:only to wind up a toy for cruel spirits.
Speaker:Kiuru saw only one way to free himself of them.
Speaker:Slowly, the wolf dragged himself closer to the water,
Speaker:letting his chest hang freely over the dark abyss.
Speaker:Closing his eyes,
Speaker:he waited for a time,
Speaker:trying not to imagine
Speaker:how cold it would be.
Speaker:But when he opened them again…
Speaker:A stranger was staring back at him.
Speaker:The sleek muzzle and sharp ears betrayed it as a fox,
Speaker:and to Kiuru it looked as real as his own flesh and blood.
Speaker:Its fur was a mix of dazzling silver that appeared to shimmer in the sunlight,
Speaker:and a deep orange that flickered like hungry flames.
Speaker:And by the spirits,
Speaker:those dark blue eyes were all-consuming,
Speaker:like the boundless
Speaker:expanse of a clear night sky.
Speaker:Contentment was all Kiuru could gather from the face staring back at him.
Speaker:No fear or panic, no sign that they were drowning, or had
Speaker:drowned. He watched its nose twitch,
Speaker:its eyes blink, its tongue lick across its muzzle.
Speaker:It was impossible, beyond impossible.
Speaker:And yet the wolf felt as though if he reached into the water,
Speaker:he would feel soft fur brushing against his pawpads.
Speaker:If this was some trick of a vengeful River Spirit,
Speaker:angry that he had roused it from a deep slumber and polluted its waters with a dead reindeer,
Speaker:then they deserved him.
Speaker:Such a mastery of illusion.
Speaker:Kiuri leaned in closer,
Speaker:eyes wide with wonder and maw hanging agape,
Speaker:his tail even wagging from side to side.
Speaker:He lowered himself until his nose almost touched the water,
Speaker:his nose twitching as he sniffed,
Speaker:but the stranger had no scent to speak of.
Speaker:As he reached a paw down to touch the water,
Speaker:the reflection opened its mouth.
Speaker:Kiuru froze at this,
Speaker:transfixed and watching attentively
Speaker:as it spoke two silent words.
Speaker:The wolf read its lips, and felt his heart leap into his throat.
Speaker:Find me… With that,
Speaker:the stranger’s face faded back into the depths,
Speaker:and Kiuru was left alone once more.
Speaker:He didn’t move at first,
Speaker:still hanging over the edge of the ice,
Speaker:his mind swirling
Speaker:as he tried to make sense of what he had just seen.
Speaker:Had it been a sign just for him?
Speaker:No, it couldn’t have been.
Speaker:The wolf knew of no shamans who shared his blood,
Speaker:dead or alive, and without that he was merely at the whims of the spirits and their strange
Speaker:ways. And of what Kiuru did know,
Speaker:it was that signs always came in the form of subtle hints,
Speaker:like how his tribe’s shaman had once found a bear’s skull in the woods and declared it an
Speaker:ill omen. Of course,
Speaker:by the next full moon,
Speaker:Kuusama had disappeared while checking traps,
Speaker:and Kiuru was blamed for it.
Speaker:They said the poor hunter was a victim of the wolf’s unnatural ways,
Speaker:and the spirits had decided to take his life for that.
Speaker:But the truth was far worse.
Speaker:Kuusama had been one of the few good things in the wolf’s life.
Speaker:They shared something nobody else could understand,
Speaker:nor did they want to.
Speaker:And they had spent countless days in their special place in the woods,
Speaker:to escape the wrath of their tribe, together.
Speaker:Kiuru’s father had found out only the day before the bear skull appeared.
Speaker:And the rest was not hard to figure out.
Speaker:There were no spirits on that day,
Speaker:only people determined to destroy what they could not understand.
Speaker:Night came suddenly, the winter sun fleeting,
Speaker:and as the sky was streaked red with the sunset
Speaker:Kiuru sluggishly picked himself up off the ice.
Speaker:Every part of his body ached,
Speaker:his eyelids drooping,
Speaker:the wolf stumbling
Speaker:as he staggered back to shore.
Speaker:Through blurry vision he picked out a river on the far side of the lake.
Speaker:With all else having failed,
Speaker:he would have to keep going.
Speaker:Rivers were vast and tribes often settled or travelled on them,
Speaker:despite the threat of angry River Spirits.
Speaker:So he marched onward,
Speaker:pushing with the little strength he had,
Speaker:his head spinning with the effort.
Speaker:Then, everything went dark…
Speaker:Kiuru stared at the
Speaker:thin length of twine trailing over the edge of the ice and into the dark water.
Speaker:He couldn’t entirely remember how he’d stumbled into the abandoned fishing camp,
Speaker:but he’d woken up to find the wind less
Speaker:bitter and the snow falling
Speaker:more softly. He should have been disturbed that nobody had scavenged the collapsed lean
Speaker:-to under the willow roots,
Speaker:or come back to recover the scraps of twine,
Speaker:or the bone hooks.
Speaker:Surely their presence here spoke of disaster,
Speaker:or the presence of wicked spirits,
Speaker:or both. But the white wolf was too tired,
Speaker:too hungry, and too cold to care.
Speaker:And he’d begun to wonder about wicked spirits.
Speaker:The fishing was not good,
Speaker:at least not in this season.
Speaker:Reason enough to abandon this camp, perhaps.
Speaker:He was only able to catch a skinny perch or two a day.
Speaker:The one day he landed a sunfish had felt like a feast.
Speaker:It was better than nothing,
Speaker:Kiuru had told himself.
Speaker:And it kept him near the river.
Speaker:He’d always been taught
Speaker:—all the young of his tribe had always been taught
Speaker:—that river spirits were malicious,
Speaker:hungry, always out to trick the unwary,
Speaker:lure you, drown you to the bottom
Speaker:and keep your ghost there forever in their cold, cold arms.
Speaker:Everyone knew that.
Speaker:But he couldn’t forget what he’d seen on the face of the silver fox,
Speaker:in the reflection of the waters that had taken the elk.
Speaker:It hadn’t looked like malice. It had
Speaker:looked like welcome,
Speaker:and recognition, and maybe even-
Speaker:Of COURSE it hadn’t looked like malice,
Speaker:you fool, Kiuru snapped at himself.
Speaker:It’s trying to TRICK you!
Speaker:The voice in his head sounded like his father.
Speaker:The same voice that snarled at him when he’d caught him looking too long at Kuusama
Speaker:or stealing glances between the knees of the older males in the sauna.
Speaker:That told him lurid tales of the loathsome unmanliness of tribes like the Lentavohi,
Speaker:to the southwest somewhere,
Speaker:where it was said men would lay with men
Speaker:and drive women away into the woods if
Speaker:they dared give birth to a daughter.
Speaker:That had roared louder and
Speaker:angrier than any other in the tribe when they finally drove him out.
Speaker:He felt the line twitch in his
Speaker:paws. He pulled before he even looked down,
Speaker:but he felt no fish on the line.
Speaker:Instead, reflected in the dark water,
Speaker:the other end of his line in its iridescent paw,
Speaker:was the fox again.
Speaker:If fox it was. Smiling at him.
Speaker:Eyes narrowed with concealed laughter.
Speaker:Head tilted, almost playful,
Speaker:as if inviting him to come share…
Speaker:something. It was naked, this time.
Speaker:Kiuru caught no fish that day.
Speaker:He slept hungry, and his dreams were filled with the fox in the watery reflection,
Speaker:fur fishscale-silver
Speaker:and ember-orange, always just barely out of reach.
Speaker:The next three times the sun rose for their
Speaker:three hour walk along the edge of the south horizon,
Speaker:they found Kiuru already crouching over the hole in the ice.
Speaker:Every time, as soon as it was light enough to see,
Speaker:the white wolf saw the silver fox smiling back at him from the reflection.
Speaker:Sometimes it—or rather he Kiuru felt sure
Speaker:—spoke, and Kiuru could read on his lips the repetition of the command:
Speaker:Find me. Sometimes when he spoke
Speaker:Kiuru couldn’t begin to guess what he was saying,
Speaker:or perhaps singing?
Speaker:Sometimes the reflection sat on the edge of the ice and dangled his feet down,
Speaker:or up maybe, into the water,
Speaker:and where those paws went when they disappeared from the image
Speaker:the wolf couldn’t guess.
Speaker:Sometimes the reflection met his eyes,
Speaker:when he was sure Kiuru was watching,
Speaker:would smile, and begin to touch himself.
Speaker:A caress on the cheek,
Speaker:a stroke down the chest,
Speaker:even a paw under the loincloth.
Speaker:Nothing more than that,
Speaker:nothing beyond teasing,
Speaker:never any satisfaction. Kiuru’s
Speaker:dreams, more and more each night,
Speaker:wondered how it would feel to be touched by those paws,
Speaker:how that silvery
Speaker:fur would feel and smell.
Speaker:When he drank from the river,
Speaker:he imagined that it tasted like the kisses he’d never gotten a chance to have.
Speaker:The fish were more scarce each day.
Speaker:On the third day there was not even a bite.
Speaker:Kiuru was so busy watching the fox in the river that he barely noticed.
Speaker:On the fourth day,
Speaker:the reindeer was back.
Speaker:It was standing on the ice,
Speaker:directly across the hole he’d been fishing from.
Speaker:No tracks in the snow led from the far bank to where it now stared at the wolf.
Speaker:And Kiuru couldn’t doubt it was the same deer.
Speaker:The haft of his arrow,
Speaker:the fletch snapped,
Speaker:was still buried in the side of its neck exactly where he’d shot it,
Speaker:though now it seemed to feel no pain.
Speaker:Kiuru was so stunned
Speaker:that the deer had time to calmly wander away,
Speaker:up to the top of the far bank,
Speaker:and then look back at him before the wolf remembered to grip his makeshift spear,
Speaker:scavenged from whatever
Speaker:unknown fishers had left this camp,
Speaker:and to give chase. He didn’t notice the reflection,
Speaker:laughing as he passed by the hole in the ice.
Speaker:The lands on the far side of the river,
Speaker:through which the deer led him,
Speaker:had been strange in ways Kiuru couldn’t have explained.
Speaker:Directions hadn’t seemed to be themselves:
Speaker:he would follow it away from the river, pushing through mounds of snow atop reeds or bushes which gave way when he tried to put weight on them,
Speaker:only to find himself,
Speaker:without turning or straying,
Speaker:back on the bank,
Speaker:looking down at the hole in the ice he’d been huddled over
Speaker:for three days of starvation and cold.
Speaker:Each time, the deer was gazing at him,
Speaker:mockingly, from deeper in the woods.
Speaker:Kiuru lost track of how long he’d been pursuing it,
Speaker:and of how many times it had led him away from
Speaker:then back to the river.
Speaker:But it was long enough that the sun began to set.
Speaker:Once it was down,
Speaker:Kiuru realised he was lost.
Speaker:He could find neither the deer nor the river.
Speaker:For all the time he’d spent
Speaker:blundering through snowbanks and
Speaker:crashing through bushes,
Speaker:the winter forest around him seemed undisturbed by footprints,
Speaker:either his own or his quarry’s.
Speaker:But as the night deepened
Speaker:he began to see other things in the forest.
Speaker:“Foul lech!” shouted the chieftain, from a hollow under a snow-covered trunk.
Speaker:“Unnatural!” his sister shrieked and pointed.
Speaker:“It’s your fault,” his father’s lips were drawn back,
Speaker:teeth bared, “that the tribe has no shaman!
Speaker:The spirits would never have taken him if you hadn’t corrupted him
Speaker:with your filthy unmanfulness!” Each them
Speaker:of them were only there long enough to be seen and recognized, and then Kiuru was alone again with the echoes of their scorn.
Speaker:“Pervert!” cried a child,
Speaker:if it was anyone whose name he’d known then Kiuru didn’t recognize them now.
Speaker:The cold felt like knives in his side,
Speaker:like live coals against his face.
Speaker:“Go then,” said his grandmother,
Speaker:who hadn’t lived to see his disgrace,
Speaker:“you might as well go to the river spirit,
Speaker:if you’re every bit as foul as it is.”
Speaker:He was colder, and hungrier,
Speaker:and more tired, than the night he’d first stumbled on the deer.
Speaker:“Did you really think,”
Speaker:Kuusama sneered, disgusted,
Speaker:“that I would debase myself to love something like you?”
Speaker:Kiuru sank to his knees in the snow,
Speaker:heedless of the numbness in his toes.
Speaker:He almost didn’t notice something crashing through the brush toward him.
Speaker:But when the deer lept over his head,
Speaker:antlers lowered, eyes blazing,
Speaker:he scrambled to the side.
Speaker:One of its sharp rear hooves missed his muzzle by mere inches.
Speaker:Kiuru fumbled for his spear,
Speaker:but it had disappeared into the snow.
Speaker:And the deer seemed bigger, now,
Speaker:stronger, certainly much more
Speaker:aggressive. If it hadn’t been for his arrow in its neck Kiuru
Speaker:wouldn’t have known it was the same beast.
Speaker:Panic took him, and he turned and ran.
Speaker:He could not tell if the sound that chased him out of the forest was the crashing of the deer through the undergrowth,
Speaker:or the derisive laughter of the shades of his former family
Speaker:and tribe. The wolf was almost blind as he ran,
Speaker:the shadowy figures of trees rushing past him.
Speaker:Where they had once provided a small comfort from the wind and snow,
Speaker:they were now imposing,
Speaker:their limbs seeming to close in and trap Kiuru.
Speaker:He panted harder,
Speaker:chest heaving, heart pounding,
Speaker:the look on his face almost feral as he sprinted through the dark forest.
Speaker:With his arms held out,
Speaker:he smashed aside the suffocating branches,
Speaker:until he finally burst from the clutches of the forest.
Speaker:Then suddenly his foot landed on nothing but snow and empty air,
Speaker:and he was tumbling down the steep bank.
Speaker:Kiuru lifted his head,
Speaker:and found himself back on the ice.
Speaker:Only a few strides from where he saw his own tracks disappear into the woods.
Speaker:Of the deer there was no sign,
Speaker:but the hole in the ice was close.
Speaker:It looked larger than he remembered.
Speaker:Kiuru dragged himself across the ice.
Speaker:He had just enough strength to collapse by the hole.
Speaker:His length of fishing twine trailed out of it
Speaker:and lay somewhere underneath him in the snow.
Speaker:The reflection of the fox nearly shone in the moonlight.
Speaker:He had knelt down, at the edge of the ice, and was peering up,
Speaker:ears perked, as if wondering where Kiuru had gone.
Speaker:Somewhere in his mind,
Speaker:Kiuru thought of the beginnings of a joke:
Speaker:what if the river spirit, the fox in
Speaker:the reflection,
Speaker:was the one pulling in the fishing line,
Speaker:and he was what was on the hook?
Speaker:That was funny, he’d have to remember it,
Speaker:to tell it to the silver-furred fox when…
Speaker:When… The river
Speaker:couldn’t possibly be any colder than he was already.
Speaker:Every motion felt as if it took
Speaker:the last of his strength,
Speaker:but inch by inch,
Speaker:by hand and foot,
Speaker:he dragged himself to the hole.
Speaker:The fox in the water smiled up at him.
Speaker:He smiled back, like the fox’s reflection.
Speaker:And then he pulled himself over the
Speaker:edge, and into the water.
Speaker:The cold of the water was numbing and absolute.
Speaker:It reached every part of him with a suddenness
Speaker:that made his muscles clench.
Speaker:Even if he’d still had the strength to swim,
Speaker:he couldn’t have. He felt his ears brush ice above him.
Speaker:He could see nothing but black water around him.
Speaker:No silver fur. He couldn’t even feel the cold anymore.
Speaker:No soft paws, no embraces.
Speaker:Where was the river spirit that had wanted him?
Speaker:Where was his fox?
Speaker:The last of his air,
Speaker:and his warmth, bubbled out of his mouth.
Speaker:He dimply heard a sound,
Speaker:as if from far off,
Speaker:as if something had broken the water’s surface.
Speaker:Just before unconsciousness took him,
Speaker:he felt something grab him by the scruff of his neck.
Speaker:The warmth that woke him was enough of a shock that it was painful.
Speaker:It felt like needles in his toes.
Speaker:“You’re alive after all!”
Speaker:said someone,
Speaker:from very close. Kiuru realised he was lying back against someone,
Speaker:his head against their chest,
Speaker:their arms around him.
Speaker:The wolf looked up.
Speaker:There was no shimmering silver in the fur,
Speaker:only plain white.
Speaker:No unearthly night-sky depths to the blue of the eyes that met his.
Speaker:But there was no doubt this was the face he’d come to know in all the reflections.
Speaker:In his dreams. “I thought I’d got to you too late,” the fox said.
Speaker:“I only looked up just in time to see you fall in.”
Speaker:“It’s…” it was difficult to talk, but Kiuru forced his muzzle to move,
Speaker:“It’s you…” “Shhhh,” the fox shushed him
Speaker:and laid his chin atop
Speaker:Kiuru’s head. “Just rest now,
Speaker:at least till you’re warm again.
Speaker:Then we’ll see if you can manage to eat something.”
Speaker:Above him the wolf could see the roof of a tightly-knit sealskin tent.
Speaker:He recognized some of the clothes, hanging to dry on the tentpoles,
Speaker:as his own. And as his sense of smell began to return,
Speaker:it told him of a raging fire,
Speaker:of broth simmering on it,
Speaker:and that the fox
Speaker:in whose arms he lay seemed to be very happy to have found him alive. “I’m Tulipaal,
Speaker:by the way,” the fox said.
Speaker:His body felt like hot stone
Speaker:taken directly from the firepit,
Speaker:though the air in the tent was warmer.
Speaker:Of course, he must have gone into the river too,
Speaker:to drag the wolf out.
Speaker:“How on earth did you wind up all the way out here by yourself?
Speaker:You were barely dressed,
Speaker:no tools or weapons.
Speaker:By the ancestors, it’s no wonder you look almost starved.”
Speaker:Kiuru’s ears flattened.
Speaker:He would need to think of a lie,
Speaker:if this fox found out what he was-
Speaker:“It would have been a shame,” Tulipaal continued,
Speaker:“to let the river spirit take a wolf as handsome as you.”
Speaker:His paw caressed the wolf’s face, and chest,
Speaker:his nose nuzzled between his ears.
Speaker:And neither of them was clothed, Kiuru realised. To help the fire warm them,
Speaker:of course, but still… “I’m Kiuru,” he managed to gasp.
Speaker:His limbs were still too sore to snuggle backwards against the fox’s warmth,
Speaker:but the smile on Tulipaal’s snout said he’d noticed the attempt.
Speaker:Soon enough the cold snap ended, as cold snaps, and winters eventually, do. And Kuiru helped Tulipaal take down the tent, and prepare for the journey back to his tribe.
Speaker:Kiuru’s too, according to Tulipaal.
Speaker:The fox—or rather
Speaker:his mate, Tulipaal insisted,
Speaker:though Kiuru was still working hard to teach himself to think that word
Speaker:—had been baffled and confused when the wolf had asked whether the tribe would tolerate
Speaker:two males laying with one another.
Speaker:“Why wouldn’t they?”
Speaker:They crossed the ice carefully.
Speaker:The thaw might have weakened it, after all,
Speaker:but it held firm. At Kiuru’s
Speaker:insistence, they stopped by the hole and looked in,
Speaker:carefully. Only the reflection of a white wolf
Speaker:and white fox, hand in hand,
Speaker:looked back. This was “Reflections” by SakaraFox & Rob MacWolf,
Speaker:read for you by Dirt Coyote,
Speaker:lately of twitter dot com.
Speaker:You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker:Happy Pride, and Thank you for listening
Speaker:to The Voice of Dog.