(@AtlasDefeated i loved it :D !)
(This prompt is rad. Here’s my take :)
Got the best song for this: Dirty Paws by Of Monsters and Men
The Sun breathed deeply, letting the calm winter wind brush past without thought. It wasn’t until a larger gust of wind caught his attention that his glowing amber eyes blinked open.
Before him landed a colossal dragonfly, its wings slowing to a light flutter as it grazed the ground. The saddle on its back carried numerous scrolls and tomes, rocking as it made its graceful descent.
“Salutations, Dragonfly,” the Sun cooed with a nod, closing his eyes yet again. “Any news?”
“Yes, my Sun,” Dragonfly’s voice echoed through the man’s head, but he was no stranger to the telepathic ways.
“Then stay a while,” Sun replied, a minuscule smile flickering across his face. “I’m due for a tale.”
“Yes, my Sun,” the insect repeated. It shook the weak new-winter’s snow from its crest as it laid its figure on the cool ground below. Dragonfly crossed its appendages like a noble lion, its wings twitching periodically.
“It begins with a wolf,” Dragonfly’s voice seemed to resonate through the calm air. “A wolf, the birds, and the insects.”
——
The trees curled around, making almost a tunnel for the wolf to run through. She skidded as her paws hit leaves, soon regaining her footing and gaining back speed. Her breathing was rushed and heavy, yet she looked agile, so the running must have carried past the time I saw her. But she was running, now, and I couldn’t yet tell why. If she was running to or from, it evaded me. But she was running.
This was at the heart of the magic woods, Sun. We have been before. The trees’ harrowing calls seemed to lack effect on this vigorous wolf. How some may envy her.
I wished to ask her why she was running. So I did. I asked the young— what seemed like a Greenland wolf— her faintest motivation for where she was going, or leaving in such terrible haste.
The fact that she let me stop her led me to believe she was not being chased, and in fact, may be actually simply running for her own pleasure. But you see, Sun, this was hardly the case.
She told me she didn’t have a name, yet those who knew of her called her Dirty Paws. I, many times, resorted to her as this, so you could assume it was true. The wolf told me of a great war. One between the birds and insects of the sky.
The birds had issued an alliance with the animals from below. Smart ones, they are. The bees wouldn’t stand a chance against their vast armada. At least, that is what Dirty Paws had said. I did not doubt her for a moment.
She asked if I would join her and the birds. I vaguely declined, as to keep our kingdom from small quarrels. But you see, Sun, I still cheered in their favor.
I followed the wolf to her kingdom of acquaintance. There, I was introduced to a griot. A beautiful elk with horns like deceased trees in this bleak wintertime. Though, don’t be fooled. This elk was nothing but life, telling his stories in even the dim lighting of his age. I cannot say that he is not the reason for me writing this story on scroll, my Sun, but he was certainly an inspiration. He gave me these scrolls, with which I documented the adventure.
But now is not a time for side stories, my lord. Let us continue with the wolf.
She seemed to band together quite a reckless bunch. A fox, bear, and two smaller animals that were foreign to me during winter. I rarely ever see them out of their burrows. Mouse-folk, they were. Two of them. With their little twitching noses and large obsidian eyes. They were kind, yet rowdy, and the wolf’s demand for them to join perplexed me. But I understand now, for they were quick and beady. Like bandits, they could scurry.
For the others, I knew their talents. Based on stories, at least, from your great grandfather, Sun. The great fables of the constellations. The fox will always be cunning. The bear will always carry armor. And the wolf will always stand proud.
These were all true traits of the fabled three. And I can see, Sun, that you are at the edge of your imaginary seat. My lord, tell me. What would you have done? If you knew you were going into battle, for a cause that wasn’t your own, and if you won that battle? What would the other side think? Or what would you then think of the other side?
I’ll tell you, my lord. This battle was quite the inspiration for a teller like myself. The griot and I shared the events, putting them into record and folding the scrolls into letters that could be sent to the neighboring kingdoms.
I’ll tell you, my lord. This battle ended with bloodshed. The fox, the bear, the mice, and the wolf. They brought down the Queen Bee together. Her workers fell.
They were victorious, my great Sun. Do you know why?
You remember in fables, how one greater animal always falls into foolishness due to the doings of the lesser. But when you pile the lesser with the greater, my lord, what results is an unstoppable force. Dirty Paws and the griot relayed this lesson to me, and I shall share it in whatever way I can.
You could say this story was a fable, however the story stretches past its end, you see. The trees in that magic forest, the one Dirty Paws had run so hastily through, ceased their cries of distress. They began their wonderful song yet again, stirring new life within the ever-wonder woods.
I’ll tell you, my lord, that this battle was for the good. The sky was, in fact, big enough for both the birds and the bugs. If they had only seen that from the beginning, I would have no story to tell.
I’ll tell you, my lord, that the battle did not end in vain. The bees bowed then, to the creatures of snow.
I’ll tell you, my lord, that I plan on traveling back one day. And you shall accompany me. It is a wonderful sight to see, Sun, the beauty and diversity of life that is the magic forest. The only place where Fox, Bear, Mouse, and Wolf alike can work alongside the other.
I’ll tell you, my lord, that I intend to return with you. You can see the birthing place of the new fable.
——
With the last stroke of its story, Dragonfly turned to Sun. The man had fully opened his eyes, staring like daggers to the gigantic insect.
“And then?” he asked, his hands placed neatly over his knees as he sat, cross-legged, on the cold ground.
“Well, my lord, that is it,” Dragonfly replied. “That is how the story goes.”
Sun gave a nod, his heart a mix of melancholy and glee. Sad the story had ended, yet happy because of the ending.
“I liked that one, Dragon,” Sun whispered. There, he closed his eyes yet again, taking another deep breath.
“The story of the beast with the four dirty paws.”