Moon Kissed The Earth

One Autumn night, Moon kissed the earth where the fallen leaves were resigned to sleep, and bestowed the gift of Life. From the leaves came a creature, with rust-red fur, black soil-stained feet and ears. Tufts of bright white shone on the ears, face, belly, and tail. Fox was born.

Rabbit saw all that had occurred and hopped forward tentatively. “Hello,” she said “You must be new here. I am Rabbit.”

“Hello, I am Fox.” replied fox. “Although, that is all I think I know.” As she paused, her stomach rumbled and Rabbit chuckled.

“Come along my new friend,” Rabbit said maternally. “Let’s find some dinner to fill your belly.” With that she led the way down a deer trail, and Fox followed, not knowing what else to do with herself.

Rabbit showed Fox the ripest blackberries, and the sweet fallen apples that had fallen on the ground. Fox ate her fill, grateful to have found a friend.

The days passed, and Fox became melancholy. Berries were sweet, but no longer satisfying. Apples were filling, but quite boring to collect. Rabbit was kind, but timid and had no sense of adventure.

Late one night, Fox decided to take a walk. The burrow was quite warm and crowded, and Fox was craving some fresh air. Soon, she found herself sitting below the very tree which gave way to the leaves from which she was born.

“Woe is me. What kind of life am I resigned to? Collecting berries and running from every shadow. Is this what I was created for?”

“Perhaps you should ask Moon.” a voice crooned from above, and Fox jumped at the sound. She looked up to see Owl sitting comfortably on a branch, looking down with eyes dark as night save the slits of honey-gold reflecting around the edges.

“The Moon?” Fox asked, unsure of what Owl could mean.

“Indeed. It is Moon that bestowed upon you the gift of Life. It is Moon you should ask about what you are to do with that life.” And with that Owl took off, silently, gliding back into the darkness.

Fox had never spoken to Moon before, and she was unsure what to say.

“Moon?” She looked up into the sky and asked tentatively. Then, wondering if perhaps Moon, being very far away, would have difficulty hearing her, she repeated a bit louder.

“Moon? I don’t know what to say.” She paused now, her inky black ears turning methodically in every direction to listen. The wind blew. Night creatures scurried. In the distance the river continued to rush over it’s bed of smooth stones. But no one answered.

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*This piece was written as a part of a series for #Folktaleweek2021 in response to the prompt “Moon” for 11/15/2021.

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-Jessica