Spring

A continuation of Warmth.

The tips of blades of grass poked up through the snow, fresh, bright green like a beacon against the solid white backdrop. Snowmelt dripped from brown branches, slowly coming back to life after the cold harshness of winter. Spring was returning to the forest, warmth working its way through the landscape.

Baum went about his duties, checking in on the creatures of the forest. The forest spirit walked between the trees with an urgency in his step. He carried with him a small basket, carefully placed in the crook of his arm. He moved between his tasks quickly, taking care to complete them with care while not spending any more time than was needed.

To many, a cold, wintry wood would seem mostly devoid of life, but on this day of spring there were many things coming out of hiding. Birds sat in the high treetops, bringing the first sounds back after what had felt like an eternity of silence. Rivulets of melting snow bubbled and gurgled as they rushed to join the nearest babbling brook. And, in a small clearing, protected by old, wise trees and even older stones, could be heard the yips and barks of young fox kits playing.

This clearing is where Baum had been heading, completing any smaller tasks he had along the way. He entered the open carefully, not wanting to spook the little kits as they played. He sat down on a patch of soft moss, smiling to himself as the kits wrestled and tumbled. It was not long before they took notice of his presence, excitedly bounding over and jumping into his lap, licking and playfully nipping at his legs, eagerly nuzzling his hands, wordlessly asking for pets and scratches with yaps and trills.

Laughing softly, the spirit obliged, giving each of the kits their share of affection. After a few minutes he used a hand to softly raise the chin of one kit to get its attention and lift its gaze to him. "Would you little ones be so kind as to fetch your mother for me?" His voice was soft and kind, like a warm breeze through grass; wise and tired like autumn leaves falling to the forest floor.

The little kit barked its understanding, running excitedly across the clearing. Their siblings soon took notice and chased after, tumbling over each other as they raced to their den. They quickly disappeared into a well-hidden hole in the earth and moments later returned, followed shortly by their mother.

She was a beautiful, young red fox, fur tipped with golden and white streaks. Her eyes looked weary but happy, her kits trying to steal away her attention as she walked toward their visitor. To most, she would seem like any other fox, though perhaps one with a particularly beautiful coat. But Baum and others with a trained eye could see that she, too, was a spirit of the forest.

She greeted Baum with a soft trill, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. In turn he greeted her with scritches under her chin and behind her ears.

"I'm glad to see that newest group are seeming to get along well." He gestured to where two darker-furred kits were playing with the others, smaller and younger looking than the rest. "I hope they haven't been giving you too much trouble."

The fox smiled and shook her head, opening her mouth as if to say something. She hesitated and closed it with an uncertain look, almost as if she wasn't quite sure of herself. Baum nodded understandingly.

"There's no need to talk yet if you're not feeling ready. I know how difficult it can be to get used to some of the changes." He ran his hand down her back reassuringly.

Like all spirits, the fox had the ability to speak in words if she chose to; like the others, she hadn't always been a spirit herself. She was, in fact, one of the forest's newest spirits, having just joined them in the coldest days of winter. Baum's heart felt heavy as he remembered how she had come to join them.

She, like the other spirits, had once been a normal, mortal animal. Even Baum himself had once been a mortal man, a kind woodsman who would tend to the forest in which he lived. He grew old and passed away as all mortals do, but for some reason he still didn't understand he was chosen to continue his stewardship over the forest—only now as a spirit, and not a man.

He didn't mind his new unexpected purpose in the slightest, and over the years he'd grown to love the wild nature more than he had during his life. Even still, there were some aspects he found difficult with his new charge, even after all this time.

Baum looked over the mother vixen, studying her closely. He had been with her as her mortal life had ended, doing what he could to provide as much comfort as he was allowed. Caught in a trapper's snare and wounded in her own panic, her life had ended far too soon—just before she was able to have her first litter, just as she would have started a family of her own. His heart still ached at the thought, and though she hid it well he knew she still had pain in her tired eyes.

Through some kind miracle, she had been chosen to become a spirit herself, one charged with a particularly unique duty. A well-known law of the forest was that spirits must not interfere in the lives of mortal animals in any way that can help or harm; no deed could be done that would impact the outcome of a life. But, this fox, in some unbelievable turn of events, was given the charge of fostering orphaned kits.

Much like other spirits who came before her, it took her some time to come to terms with her death. She had been heartbroken and devastated, longing for her lost kits and blaming herself for how she had died. As she began her charge the pain had faded from memory, but fragments of it were still visible to those who knew to look for them.

Baum shook his head, pushing the thoughts from his mind. Clearing his throat, he took the basket from his side and placed it in front of himself and the vixen. It was filled with soft woven cloth, warm and thick against the still-lingering chill in the air.

He spoke softly as he lifted the blankets. The fox, already knowing what she'd see, stood and sniffed the basket gingerly. "I was asked to bring this little one from across the river." As he spoke, a small, barely week-old kit was revealed from under the coverings. "He is young and healthy, but his mother fell ill. His siblings, unfortunately…" his voice trailed off, both him and the fox knowing what was left unsaid.

The fox licked the kit, nuzzling softly before gently lifting it and placing it near her belly. She gave several more licks, nudging it closer into her warm fur. She looked back up at the spirit expectantly, as if asking if he had any other words to share.

Baum sighed, rubbing one of her ears. "That is all for today. I thank you for being so receptive to more mouths to feed and take care of." Looking around the clearing, it only now became clear just how many kits tumbled around the area—far more than would be in one litter—and he smiled to himself as he thought just how many lives the vixen had already been able to touch. "If all goes well, I'll return in a few days' time with news from the council. They seem happy with what you have been able to accomplish so far." He rubbed her ears again, smiling outwardly now as he saw her tail flick happily.

Looking around the comfortable clearing again, Baum tried to take in the happy feeling that imbued it: all the kits and their mother playing happily in spite of their own sorrows and past. He brushed off his pants and got to his feet, needing to get on with his tasks in spite of the comfortable feeling of the safe clearing. Nodding to the mother fox, he bid his farewells and walked to the edge of the trees, the vixen gingerly carrying the newly fostered kit to the den for closer care. Just as Baum was about to step out of view, he heard a throat being cleared and a quiet voice that was new to his ears.

"Thank you, Baum." He turned to see the vixen looking at him meaningfully, bittersweet tears in her eyes. Before he could gather a response, she turned and disappeared back into her den without another word.

He stood quietly for a moment, nodded, and continued on his way, eyes blurring with tears of his own. Wandering deep into the trees, his chest warm and full of happiness that the forest, through some strange magic, provided second chances.