Selene’s a fox forest spirit made of leaves who’s determined to leave no field unfrolicked in. Who will she meet on her adventures?

Today’s story is “A Gentle Rustling of Leaves” by Nenekiri Bookwyrm, who is a dragon that makes games and writes stories. He’s also been known to paint and play the ukulele on occasion. When he’s not reading from his hoard of To-Read books, he makes time to write some stories of his own. You can find more of his stories on www.nenekiri.com.

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

and Today’s story is

“A Gentle Rustling of Leaves”

by Nenekiri Bookwyrm,

who is a dragon that makes games and writes stories.

He’s also been known to paint

and play the ukulele on occasion.

When he’s not reading from his hoard of To-Read books,

he makes time to write some stories of his own.

You can find more of his stories

on www.nenekiri.com.

“A Gentle Rustling of Leaves”

by Nenekiri Bookwyrm

A wind, gentle and chilling,

swept through the discarded leaves on the forest floor.

Autumn was here once again in the realms of mortal men.

But there are realms beyond that of those that can be perceived with the naked eye.

Truly here, was where our story began.

It always started

as a sense of form.

Fuzzy, though not with fur.

Unshaped and formless.

The wind would blow through leaves all day

and none would feel a thing.

Until one clung to the breeze a little too tightly.

Then another and another.

And soon enough, a swirling pile of leaves would be carried by the wind.

The form now, though fluid and changing, was starting to take a shape

amidst the greens and yellows of the leaves.

A tail behind and a muzzle in front

as it raced along the countryside through the early morning dew.

If one was versed in the ways of forest spirits,

it would have looked for all the world

to be a fox in those swirling leaves and wind.

Her name, it came to her as if waking from a dream.

And she knew at once, it was Selene.

She was once again

alive to run through the world anew.

It was a queer circumstance to have so much knowledge about herself so soon after waking.

Though she paid it no mind.

It was the way of animals to know things innately,

why should she be any different?

She knew as well

that her time here was short.

A season at most, if she was lucky.

She resolved to leave no meadow unfrolicked in

that the wind would carry her over.

As she ran, her coat changed colors with the shifting of the leaves.

Sometimes it would be more green and yellow,

where the leaves were still freshly fallen.

Other times it was a bright orange and red,

streaking a sunset across the sky.

She only slowed when the wind would die down.

Settling her leaves into the earth for a quick nap before

she was whisked up

and away again. Often

she would play games with the fae and faeries of the forests on her journey.

They liked to fly around her

and between her legs as she skipped and pranced through the flowers.

The fae taught her secret games that only spirits could play

and she relished in the warmth of making new friends.

Truly, a gayer celebration had not been seen since the return of springtime.

She did not want to leave her new friends,

but the wind carried her off all the same.

And so she ran with it, instead of against it.

For there is no greater fool’s errand

than to try and fight the wind.

She came across an odd shape near the edge of a lake

and gratefully, the wind blew her in the direction of it.

As she came closer,

she noticed something

quite peculiar. The shape was that of a dog, that much was clear.

But of the particular breeding, Selene could not determine.

If she tilted her face one way it was clearly a bulldog,

but in the next moment it could be a collie.

Beagle seemed to be the most consistent from what she could surmise.

In all cases, the coat was brown and black

and the dog stood proudly at attention.

Even stranger, the dog stood on the water of the lake.

Selene tried her best to speak with her voice,

though it often came out as thin and crackly. “Good day fine fellow!

Might I have your acquaintance?”

The dog looked over to the outline of Selene

and her leaves and gave a small nod.

He walked across the lake until he was standing at its edge.

A small bow later

and he was talking as well.

His voice carried like currents to Selene

and just as quickly washed away.

“Good day to you too, forest spirit.

You’ve caught me at a good time,

I’m enjoying my leisure.”

“What do you call yourself?

Are you of the River?”

At this the dog laughed.

“You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t trust giving my true name to the faefolk.

But yes, in a sense, I am of a river.”

If offense was to be taken at his tone,

Selene did not notice.

“It’s nice to meet you all the same.

I’m Selene!” Selene

let the wind blow through her

and her leaves fell gently on the surface of the water.

“Is this your river?”

“No, far from it.” “You said you were at leisure,

but you look to be guarding something.”

“Quite perceptive,

but a coincidence I assure you.

Occupational habits are hard to break.”

“What, then, is your occupation?”

“Why do you care to know?”

“I’ve not had one myself,

but to look at your posture they must be dreadfully stressful!”

Selene barked a laugh,

but the dog was joyless.

He looked down at her and said in a low growl,

“You’ve no idea.” Without missing a beat,

Selene cocked her head towards the dog.

“Then tell me in the most detail you can muster!

It sounds as though it weighs on you.

Better to tell now

then to let your worries sink you later.”

The dog sighed but sat down on the water next to Selene.

“How familiar are you with the space beyond death?”

Selene had to think on it a moment,

but replied, “I’ve a feeling I might have been there once but the memory fades even now.”

The dog nodded his head,

“Spirits come and go, but mortals stay.

It’s my job to help them cross the river Styx on their way over.

I’m Charon’s guide dog.”

Selene could not contain her excitement.

“I’m talking with the Cerberus!

But where are your other heads?”

The dog shook his head no.

“You’re thinking of Hades.

Different fellow entirely, I assure you.

Charon pilots the ferry for the mortals to the land beyond.”

“Oh, I see. But then, what do you do?”

“The water there is colder than ice and runs deeper than a mountain.

If a mortal falls in,

I am their lifeboat back to the surface.

They can grab onto me

and I will never sink.”

“Are so many mortals prone to diving into the lake of the dead?”

“You would be surprised.”

“That must get woefully tiresome.” “Absolutely! It is such a burden that I can not even enjoy my leisure.

Even now I am staring out across this lake anticipating some fool to fall in!”

His paws were up around his eyes

and Selene could sense his frustration.

She pondered for a moment before coming up

with an ingenious plan.

She turned to the distressed dog and said,

“I know just what you need!

It will relax you assuredly.”

She motioned for him to follow her to the edge of the lake that had many stones and pebbles

stacked up along its bank.

“I’m going to teach you a game that the fairies taught me.”

She bent her neck down

and made a motion as if to grab one of the rocks in her mouth,

then flung her head to the side over the lake.

“Now you try!” The dog looked skeptical,

but did as Selene instructed

and picked up a rock in his mouth.

With a gentle toss,

it went sailing out over the water and

skipped a few times before sinking into the lake.

The dog only seemed more confused

until Selene explained,

“You count the times the stone has skipped on the water.

And the best part?

You’re allowed to let them sink!”

The dog smiled in surprise

and bewilderment as he chucked rock

after rock into the lake.

Skipping stones as fast as he could pick them up.

Selene danced around the ripples that would form in the water

and before long, he was chasing after her across the lake.

They bounded past each other

as the dog ran into and through the cloud of leaves that was Selene.

They carried on this way, skipping stones

and chasing each other

until the moon was high above them in the sky.

Exhausted and spent,

the dog lay on his back in the middle of the lake.

“That was the most I’ve enjoyed my leisure in years.

Thank you, Selene.”

“I should be thanking you!

I’m used to the feeling of my wind through the prairie grass,

but running along the water was entirely new for me.”

She turned to face the dog once more

and found him fast asleep.

What’s more, she could feel the wind stirring her on someplace else.

Before she let herself be carried away,

she left enough of her leaves as a blanket to keep him warm.

She did not recognize the forest she had found herself in.

It was unlike any she had seen before.

The trees seemed to grow upside down here.

With the roots extending out into the sky and the tree tops planted firmly in the ground.

The sunlight shone brightly through the gaps

in the odd canopy

and Selene could see the forest’s floor quite well.

The ground she was walking on consisted of leaves

and when she would shuffle through some they would break off

and float upward into the sky.

She walked this way between the trees,

until she came unto a clearing of sorts.

The trees thinned out and a line of them on either side could be seen leading her up to a strangely shaped tree in the center.

The first thing she noticed was the size of it.

It was easily the biggest in the forest

and must have been here for centuries.

When she was close enough to walk around its base, she could make out the shape of a face resting on the trunk of the tree.

Stranger still, this tree was the only one in the entire forest that was right-side up.

It’s canopy was filled not with leaves,

but with beautiful pink

and white blossoms.

Selene could not help but to stare at the wondrous flowers.

So transfixed was she,

that she did not notice the face on the trunk

begin to stir. There was a grumbling and a mumbling as old eyes blinked slowly open.

Showing a current of blue water pupil

running through an iris of moss.

A gentle cracking could be heard as the face’s mouth

opened up and showed the bright orange

of freshly stripped bark underneath.

Still feeling the effects of their long sleep, the tree shook their head

back and forth to wake themselves up,

whipping the vines that adorned their head frantically.

At this, Selene cried out and ran to hide in the nearest pile of leaves.

But to her surprise,

the tree spoke kindly to her.

Their voice was low, as if from the earth itself,

and they spoke in a manner not dissimilar to syrup dripping down bark.

“Do not fear, little one.

I mean no harm. You may come out.”

Selene crept slowly from her hiding place,

until the wind pushed her leaves more forcefully towards the base of the trunk.

Now that she was looking at them,

she could tell what the face reminded her of.

It was a memory buried deep in her,

but one she knew all the same.

The face was more of a snout

and the shape looked quite like a large lizard.

The word for “dragon” popped into her head,

but it still felt off somehow.

“Ah, one of the Wind’s children.

You’ve nothing to fear,

I welcome all into this grove.

grove.” “Thank you, Old One.

I did not mean to intrude.

The wind carried me here and I’m

ever so sorry for waking you.”

“No trouble at all.

It has been some time since I’ve had company.” “Then I am happy to give it!”

And at this Selene brightened considerably.

She began to run around the base of the tree and chase her tail

and scamper about the roots of the Old One.

When she was tired of her frolic, she sat on her haunches in front of their face.

“I am called Selene,

and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“You’ve got the spirit of the Wind, that is for certain.

But I am not familiar with your form.

What body are your leaves an imprint of?”

“Surely you jest, I am certain you must have seen a fox before

I?” “On the contrary, you are the first.

I must admit it is a lovely form.

Suits you and her well.”

“Begging your pardon,

but your form is curious to me as well.

You are a tree,

but also a great lizard.

I know of dragons, but I thought they cavorted openly with Fire.”

“They are relatives, of a sort.

Would do them well to remember when they were of the Earth, but it’s not my place to say.”

“Are you lonely here?”

Selene looked around the forest

as if to indicate a great truth she had just discovered.

“None of the other trees I passed could talk.”

“They can speak, I assure you.

You cannot hear them, for the language has been lost to age.”

“Do they speak fair of me?”

“They speak no ill.”

“Just as well then!”

Selene looked down

and could see that some of the blossoms from the Old One had fallen to the forest’s floor from when it had woken up.

She longed to hold one in her paws,

but was unsure if the wind would allow her.

She turned to the Old One

and smiled. “I must say that your foliage is exquisitely beautiful!

If I could, I would carry it in my body and show the rest of the world your beauty.”

“By all means, take as many as you can hold. I’ve no objection.”

"I've not lifted blossoms before, only leaves.

What if I'm unable?"

"Selene, you shall never truly know until you try.

Impossibility is a word of those who do not dare to try.

try." Truly, the tree was wise.

As Selene swirled her form through the pink and white blossoms at her feet,

they became a part of her.

Mixing and floating with the leaves of her body.

"Old One! I've done it!

Oh look how pretty it is when I swish my tail!"

The dragon in the tree smiled.

Orange bark cracking as the corners of their mouth pulled back in joy.

"My blossoms are most becoming on you, Selene.

You've given me a great gift today.

today." “I wish I could repay the kindness, Old One.”

“Your presence is gift enough, Selene.”

She wanted to stay, but she could feel the wind pushing through her again.

With a bark and a laugh,

she ran past the Old One

and out into the unknown.

One day, as she was running through a particularly pretty patch of wildflowers,

she saw a figure walking along the side of the prairie.

The figure was an animal, most certainly,

but it seemed to stay close to the sides of the trail.

Domestics rarely found themselves this far out in the country

and so Selene resolved to meet this odd fellow.

As she ran up and through him,

his fur bristled out in all directions,

catching some of her wayward leaves in the process.

Once she had reformed in front of him,

she could see him clearly.

He was a tom, medium length fur,

and had a bright red collar tied around his neck.

He was busy picking the leaves out of his fur as she introduced herself.

“Good morrow, humble tom.

I am called Selene.

What, pray tell, is your name?”

Instead of looking annoyed,

the tom actually looked grateful.

It was as if Selene was the first to treat him with common manners in a long time.

“Good day to you Selene.”

He took a pause to bow slightly.

“I am a mouser by trade

and though I had another name at one time,

I have recently taken on the moniker of

Mouser." "What unhappy circumstance caused you to forget your name?"

At this, Mouser threw his head back and mewled a desperate cry.

"Alas, I have been cursed!"

"Cursed?" "Aye, cursed. Ate a strange looking mouse and now am naught but invisible in the nighttime.

Should have known from the aftertaste it was to be my ruin.

ruin." Selene looked confused and tilted her head to one side.

“But you are quite present to mine eyes?”

“True, but the afternoon Sun is still high in the sky.

At night my fur becomes as a shade

and the moonlight keeps me from being seen.

My family hasn't been able to find me since.

They only search at night

and they cannot see me no matter how hard I meow.

If only they would search in the light of the sun,

they would see me plain.”

Selene could see the sadness in Mouser’s eyes

and she resolved there and then

to reunite him with his kin.

“Where do they live Mouser?

Perhaps the faeries could show us the way.”

“I do not remember!

I’ve been lost so long I can not recall my way back.

And these wilds are so vexing in their trickery that I have turned around

too many a number to count.”

“Is there nothing you can remember of your family at all?”

Mouser put a paw to his chin and thought a while, before his eyes lit up with the answer.

“They lived near a stone building and would always smell of burnt wheat because of it.

I’ve not been able to find the scent since.”

“Then I shall find the scent

and bring you back to them!”

"I think it is not possible!

I have been lost from them for 3 years hence.

Surely they will have moved away?"

At this Selene laughed,

"I am an impossibility dear

Mouser. Let me at least try.

Hold hope in your heart for a week more?"

Reluctantly, Mouser agreed

and Selene was off on the wind to search out the smell.

Selene was familiar with the scent of wheat, having played in the fields near the towns before.

But burnt wheat was a different thing entire.

She thought she had come close a few times, but saw no buildings near her.

Then, by chance, she was carried aloft by a strong gust of wind

and found herself in a town she had not seen before.

Sly devil, her mother had been searching too.

For as soon as she picked up her nose to sniff at the air,

she could smell the burnt wheat.

Following it, she arrived before a great stone building with a sign out front.

The sign read “Bakery”

and next to it was a small cottage

with a lively family inside.

Selene was glad to have found Mouser’s family,

but she was uncertain of how to direct him here.

Then, an idea sprang to mind.

She could lead his family to him.

After all, she knew the country much better than any town.

She waited until their youngest child,

a tot of no more than three or four,

was left to play alone.

She danced around her

and led the giggling child

out into the country.

Making sure never to lose sight of her as she led her farther away from the town.

As she walked, she left a breadcrumb trail of bright red leaves for the family to follow.

If her guess was correct,

the family would search for the child

and be reunited in whole.

When she came at last upon Mouser,

he was slumped against the side of the trail in a fit of despair.

Seeing the tot next to Selene seemed to rouse him from his reverie

as he bolted up and ran over to her.

“Selene! I’d given you up for good.

Who have you brought with you?”

“I was hoping you’d be able to tell me.

I found them with your family in the town.”

Mouser looked closer at the child

and gasped in shock.

“Why, this is little Tabitha!

I had last seen her as a babe in swaddling cloth.”

Tabitha, seeing finally the cat in front of her,

began to pet Mouser in the way that children do when they are not aware of the correct methods of petting.

Despite this, Mouser purred all the same.

And from the ridge,

shapes came running towards the sound of his contented purr.

The mother, father, and three other children scooped them both up in their arms and showered them with equal kisses

and scolding. Mouser cried

in elation as he was lost no more.

Selene’s heart was warmed at the sight of their reunion.

She allowed herself one rudeness

and left without goodbye,

so as not to spoil their moment together.

The season had grown colder these past weeks.

Though she did not wish to admit it to herself, Selene knew her time in this realm was ending.

The leaves that made up her body were dry and brittle.

No autumn breeze could lift her

for more than a second before the leaves would drop back to the ground again.

She felt heavier

and slower without the wind blowing through her.

And that feeling of shapelessness was growing again.

She laid herself down at the foot

of a large shady tree

and curled up tight into a pile of leaves.

Muzzle and tail wrapped round what was left of her perception of a body.

As she faded out

and her spirit was carried off to that

place beyond our perception,

she smiled at the time she was given this year.

It was a very good Autumn indeed. Do not

cry, gentle listener, for you must know. That Selene

was a spirit whose purpose to show. The importance of time we are given to wander.

Make sure not to squander

or carry regret. For this is the lesson, please don’t forget.

And if you are cunning, and spritely, and gay.

And you look very closely on a cool Autumn day.

You may be surprised at what you can see.

In the simple serenity

of the rustling of leaves.

This was “A Gentle Rustling of Leaves” by Nenekiri Bookwyrm,

read for you by Khaki,

your faithful fireside companion.

You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,

or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

Thank you for listening

to The Voice of Dog.