Healing the Slower Sorrows

The morning sun rose lazily above the horizon of the steppes. So lazily, and so slowly did it seem to rise that even the larks and the bustards and the godwits of the plains were surprised by its appearance. Tiny black bird eyes blinked slowly at the great shining orb, as if to say “Another minute, Sun. Just another minute of sleep.”

The drowsy birds made for easy meals, thankfully, and sometimes an easy meal was sorely needed. This was the case for at least one predator out there, skulking between low hills and around the stall standing stones of the Rocky Outcrop. Milenko had been working hard to adapt to hunting in this new environment. He knew the mountains, and the boulder-strewn regions at their bases, and he even knew forests decently, but these wide open plains… These were different to him, and the techniques of tracking down and snatching the swift little dodgers that lived out here were still being learned… He had dove for a marmot two days ago, successfully hauling the disappointingly slim little rodent out of its hole. The meat on the little thing hadn’t gone too far, so Milenko was grateful for these sleep-addled birds, and for the sun’s cooperation.

He had no way to thank the sun, at least not out loud. Milenko was a mute, and had been since he awoke in these new lands utterly voiceless. It had made communication a challenge, to be sure, and the pangs of hunger had combined with the heart-soreness of loneliness into a wounding, slow sorrow that wore on the fox’s gray-furred face. The Plains felt empty. His heart and his very soul felt empty. Even as he filled his belly with unfortunate avians, the void still remained. While foxes may not need as much social time as more pack-oriented animals, they still might feel the ache of solitude from time to time, and a desire to meet others, be among others. Milenko felt those aches keenly.

Silently, he sighed, taking a second to sit and rest in the shade and cover of one of the stone fingers of the Outcrop. His eyes were on the horizon, aimed far enough away from the sun so as to still observe the great orb on the periphery of his vision. His mind was elsewhere, wandering… alone.
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This time, she knew better than to not intentionally search. She had met two foxes at this point, both alike in their willingness to learn and their readiness for the next dance meeting at the old pond. The goddess of the moon, her beauty thrice as radiant, and the horned one, his warm face and his connection to the wildlife, they both had given her so many signs.

First a cricket, buzzing along unlike the rest. Then a Yellow Pouch, growing where she had not seen it grow before. She was eagerly awaiting the next sign, the next way her beloved deities would try to communicate with her. There most assuredly were signs before, signs she missed but, she had grown extra attentive over the last few days.

And thus when she spotted a small gray and reddish mass in the early morning, which was late for her, she took quickly to investigating. She had been snuck up on twice so, this time she barked, about a few yards away. Announcing her presence amidst the tall grass, her fur being buffeted by an early morning breeze. Small paws carrying her closer in a considerate and passive manner.

Her ears flicking forward and back, trying to keep attention on not only the stranger but, also the land around them. Listening, watching, yellow eyes glancing back and forth as she approached.
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A bark broke the relative calm of the standing stones and snoozing birds. Milenko’s heart jumped as quickly as he, himself, did. His last few interactions with fellow foxes had been rough, to say the least. When encountering marked territories, Milenko tried making himself known peacefully, at the edge, and had received aggression and even a harried chase in the most recent encounter. While the gray fox might be a decently capable fighter, he wasn’t seeking out other foxes to do battle or to test himself. Did every interaction in this strange world have to begin and end with violence? He tried to ease his stance after leaping up, smoothing out his spine and relaxing his tail. It was clearly forced, but his body language tried to express calm without necessarily suggesting submission.
 
What he observed was a fox with a soft, silver-and-gray coat, moving passively closer. She had barked deliberately, he noted, and it hadn’t been a series of ‘get away from my territory or die’ barks. It had just been one, audible and clear. More clues about her intentions! The gray fox turned his thoughts inward for a moment, addressing his own heart, encouraging himself to take another chance.
 
He popped his head up and down in a kind of greeting nod. He’d have to let her take the next step, and find a way to communicate to her that speaking was… at least on his part, out of the question.
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She stopped about halfway through her march, allowing the other to find solid footing. Not wanting to rush them and make them feel as though she was intending on impeding on their personal space. Once they did, her cautious and deliberate steps towards them were in a gray area, for they were excitedly pushed forward as she constantly reminded herself to calm down. It had been so long, she felt. The old coven, the one her mother was a part of, it was beautiful in all its grace. She was but a few weeks old, 10 months when the coven finally disbanded, but so young when she first saw it. Her first moon meeting, full of laughing and dancing. It was a sight to behold.
And thus she was so very excited. Already having had invited a few foxes to meet at the old pond, The Moon Mirror. That hidden respite within the Lapis Nestle where she had seen so many moon meetings and rituals. And they too seemed eager to learn, and to see it's beauty.

Dairinn found it curious that the other had not yet responded with any sort of noise so, she stopped a few feet away. Her head turning to the side, putting one eye forward towards the gray one.
"It is a fine early morning, I am becoming used to seeing foxes up so late." The vixen began, cautious but, making a conscious effort to be as kind and considerate as possible. The other didn't appear angry or displeased by her presence so, their silence was intriguing if not off-putting.
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Alright, here we go. Milenko thought to himself. He ushered up his reserves, and brought forward half-remembered social rules from his time as a kit, long before he awoke in this land of Canis. She had spoken! She hadn't bared teeth or rushed forward in an attempt to frighten him, she had talked! He was ready to share meaning and respond to this female who had, kindly, chosen to talk rather than fight. Milenko drew in a quiet breath...

And nodded.

And, in the brief moment that followed, he realized the onus was on him to continue the fledgling conversation. He stepped to the side by a single pace, and gestured downward with his head at the remains of a bustard he had eaten from only thirty minutes ago, as if to explain his own early morning activities; as if to say, "It's been good hunting". Of course, he knew he had no control over how the fine-furred female would interpret his movements. He just had to listen, and see how it all turned out.
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 Her eyes looked confused, looking to the bustard and then the fox and back twice more.
 "I do not own these lands, nor do I intend to. I am not offended by your hunting here." She said, trying to make sense of their nodding and looking. Why they wouldn't just speak confused her. Dairinn did not see herself as worth being afraid of, if that was the source of his silence. The vixen stared for just a second bit too long, though tried to avoid staring for so long as to create an awkward air.

 "Are you hurt?" The vulpine was unsure what else to ask. She was unable to think of a reason as to why the other would not respond. They appeared friendly enough, their face showing no signs of discomfort or frustration. Only a wide eyed and strange expression, one she had not, or merely did not remember, ever seeing before.
 The wind played with her fur as she stood there, confused but ever so curious.
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Milenko grimaced; as a creature who relied on body language and facial expression, he was usually able to recognize those signs in others. He saw a pair of yellow eyes show uncertainty, confusion, and he saw them move between himself and his as-yet-buried prey remains.
 
Then, her question! Was he hurt… Technically, he had no wounds to speak of, but he was impaired. He nodded slowly, deliberately at her question, then lifted his head and worked his mouth as though he was speaking. No sounds.
 
‘Yes’ to being hurt, then an attempt to pantomime speaking. Would the message get through?
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 It hit her like a ton of bricks, though relief did wash over her. She was beginning to wonder if she had something on her face. The other's response cleared her conscious and a soft sigh of relief came from her lungs.
 "Oh good!" Her ears perked, hearing herself outload was sometimes silly.
 "I mean not good, I'm sorry, I meant good as in I thought something was wrong with my face." Dairinn's face felt a tad warm with a hint of embarrassment that she had not felt in quite some time. An awkward air hung over her for a moment as she briefly looked down and shuffled her paws like a pup.

 She sat where she stood, fluffy black tail flopping over to cover her paws in order to warm them in the crisp morning air. Looking back at the gray fox with damaged but recovering confidence.
 "So any questions that can't be answered with yes or no are out of the question, huh?" The vulpine said, smiling at her attempt at being humorous but with a hint of concern on her face. It must be difficult going about life without being able to say a word. Her heart went out to the stranger.
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At Dairinn’s very innocent faux pas, Milenko’s shoulders shook with a bit of good-natured laughter. A little sound did issue forth, but it sounded like a ragged breathing; there were no happy yips or yaps as one might expect from a laughing fox. The encounter hadn’t yet devolved into a squabble, so any awkwardness was already a vast improvement in Milenko’s eyes!
 
Milenko chose to busy himself by digging a small pit in some soft soil, in which to bury the late-to-rise bustard. As he did so, he listened to her question, and turned his head to give hear a clear nod. That’s the long-and-short of it, he seemed to say. Milenko knew that, with effort, he could convey more complex concepts, but that took time, and it required context. As he pawed the bustard into its new soil-covered home, he looked back to her. He knew that there were things he’d never be able to share with her, or with any fox; feelings, memories, scents, even his own name were damned challenging at best to communicate without words.
 
This meant that the selection of topics discussed were often left in the paws of the speaking party, which was perfectly fine for Milenko! He was a listener, first and foremost, and was delighted when another took the conversational lead, no matter how minimally they might do so.
 
With the bustard successfully buried, Milenko sat just like Dairinn did, and he gestured toward her gently with his nose.
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 She was warmed by his attempt at a laugh, and smiled a warm and delicate smile.
 Dairinn had never encountered a mute fox before, so was a bit unsure how to carry conversation. Though, she led through the best she could. She observed as the vulpine buried his dinner, and curiously waited at her spot on the earth.
 "Are you from the woods to the southwest?" She questioned, only having seen a fox of his kind once before in her life. She was young and the encounter had been brief so, she was unsure where their origins usually were. Her intention was to just ask about various, general locations until it landed on one that made him nod.
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Dairinn’s efforts were encouraged by the speechless fox. He paced a little with what looked like happy excitement; head bobs and tailwags all suggested that he was thrilled with what was taking place, even though it was a bit of a struggle. Dairinn received head-shakes until she named the Mountains to the west, narrowing down that Milenko had come from those high places.
 
On the subject of origins, Milenko again pointed his nose to Dairinn, eyes wide with exaggerated curiosity.
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 The vixen's heart fluttered, watching the poor fox grow excited to just a little bit of conversation. She could barely imagine how tough it might be, not being able to communicate your feelings to a single soul. Dairinn was herself a very feelings oriented fox, and was glad that most of her feelings could be told on her face. Though, never being able to describe the complex ones, the ones that were in gray areas, the ones that made your face unsure with what to do with itself. She couldn't imagine not being able to express those.
 She was extremely glad she landed on the right place eventually and showed so with a soft happy wag to her tail. So interesting she thought, delighted to give the other such happiness. Her eyes widened as she tried her best to interpret his movements, as it appeared so to her that he was pointing with his snout.
 "M- me? Where am I from?" She questioned, waiting for an assuring nod as she did.
 In the not-so-far distance was a patch of wood, nestled below the hills of the rocky outcrops and nearer to the river that just twinkled beyond it. Dairinn stood and raised her head far up enough for her short stature to take a peek at the forest.
 "I'm from that little forest there, it's called the Lapis Nestle. I've lived there my whole life." She gestured, before looking back at the other.
 Their excitement teemed, caused only by what Dairinn assumed to be a slight loneliness. She was an empathetic fox, and thus could place herself in the shoes of another easy, and thought it quite a lonely existence to not be able to speak.
 "Ya know, if you intend to stay in the area long, I could show you around there sometime." The vixen of dark complexion smiled, excited herself to hear- or see, his reply. For such a quite fox he did seem so kind and lighthearted. She was glad that his spirits were not yet broken.
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An exuberant nod confirmed Milenko’s mutual curiosity. As if on cue, a warm morning wind carried a scent of lavender from a patch of the beautiful plants somewhere in the Lapis Nestle. At Dairinn’s offering to show him sometime, Milenko turned to look at the rising sun, and then back to the female. He raised his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug, and then hopped back and forth on his two front paws. He had no attachments, no pack, no schedule to keep… He was free anytime.
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 The vixen smiled, a bit of an awkward gaze in her eyes.
 "How about......now?" She too gave a bit of a shrug, a playful parting of her maw, a goofy and childlike smile that was expected of foxes. As she did, she stood, wagging her unproportionate fluffy tail back and forth.
 She thought the other would appreciate being shown a little bit of in-depth knowledge of the land at least, and maybe enjoy some more company. Dairinn didn't mind that he didn't speak, she sometimes found herself awfully quiet as well. Though, she's been a lot more talkative these days. In fact, the vulpine thought it quite an interesting existence. One who could not speak would be forced to listen, and how close was this gray fox listening? Perhaps the gods have been speaking to him, and he had yet been taught the knowledge to interpret their song.
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The male fox ducked low in a playful show, definitely caught up in the joy of the moment. However temporary the connection might be, however short the time spent with another fox, he planned on living it fully. His mouth gaped in a silent laugh or cry and he bounded along, joining Dairinn, whose name he did not know and could not use even if he did. Maybe this wouldn't be temporary. Maybe they could join together, cooperate from time to time, and meet and share as rarely or as often as foxes felt like it. Maybe things would turn out for the better!
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