28th Day of Spring, Year 512 AV "Come, sit close. I shall tell you the story of why the Coyote sings to the moon." Ishara knelt on the grass beneathe the spread of a young sappling in full flower. The gentle breeze wound through the boughs, tugging loose a few petals to spread them at the feet of the small gathering below. Lately, Ishara had discovered her late afternoon visits to this grassy knoll frequented by more than just her and Raj. A little over a week ago, she had encountered a young girl who was crying piteously over a broken crown of flowers. To console her, Ishara had taught her how to weave one from slender grass reeds, all the while sharing one of her many stories. Hardly a day had passed, when Ishara was joined by the young girl again, this time with another little friend in tow. In the week that followed the group had grown to five children, all who frequented the park in the late afternoon to hear another of Ishara's stories should she and Raj choose to visit. "If you were not aware of it before, I must tell you now that before young coyotes can find their voice, they are among the very best dancers in our world. They are long of limb and graceful, and their large ears and bushy tails help them float gently back to earth at the end of their long, spiraling leaps," a bubble of laughter greeted this small pronouncement, and Ishara flashed a quick smile before continuing. "The story I am about to share with you involves one such coyote named Inka, and how he learned to sing." Raj chose that moment to flop down alongside Ishara, stretching his head out so that one of the children could be persuaded to rub his ears. "One night while Inka was dancing across the sand beneath the stars, he lifted his large ears and heard a whisper on the wind. The words were faint, and he could not make them out, but he thought he caught some kind of melody. He had never heard such melody before, and he was very intrigued. Following the sound across the sand, Inka came to an oasis. There, standing in a pool of clear water, and shining softly in the starlight, was a white crane. She was singing to herself, gazing thoughtfully at her reflection in the rippling water." Ishara smiled and produced a white feather from her satchel, twirling it between her fingers as the children watched, entranced. She'd come across the feather earlier that day, and it had given her the inspiration for what story she chose this afternoon. "Inka was mesmerized. He swore that he had never seen a more beautiful creature, and as her song wove softly through the night air, Inka crept closer. When the crane spotted him, she tilted her elegant head and took a long, graceful step in his direction. Inka watched in fascination, trying to imagine her dancing across the water, because surely if any creature was made for dancing, it was her. They observed one another for many long minutes, until suddenly the crane asked, 'I have not seen you here before, could you be a desert spirit come to haunt me?' Inka shook his head quite slowly, and sat down just on the edge of the water before answering her, 'I am no spirit, just a coyote out dancing until I heard your song.' 'Dancing?' said she, 'what is dancing?' Inka blinked at the beautiful crane in astonishment. How could such a lovely being not know how to dance? He stood up tall and straight, waving his bushy tail, 'I would be happy to show you.' With a flip of his tail and a waggle of his ears, Inca sprang into a beautiful dance, sending the sand at his feet skittering along the bank as he leaped and twisted and frolicked. The crane was quite impressed, and before long she joined him. Together they skipped and soared, bounced and flapped, twirled and spun beneath the twinkling stars. The crane began to sing, and overcome with such joy and love that his heart was near bursting, Inka raised his voice in song with her. Hours slipped away, until the sky blushed with the arrival of dawn. In a final flurry of fur and feathers, the two were soaring through the air when the sun peeked over the horizon, momentarily blinding Inka and causing him to duck his head. When he looked up, the crane was gone. All day, he searched, and in vain, for he found not even a single trace of her. Determined to see her again, he stood by the oasis and waited for night to fall." The children had grown hushed and quiet, and Raj nosed the hand that had suddenly stilled across his ears. Ishara gave them a reassuring grin, and continued... "But when the sky darkened into night, the crane did not appear. Instead, a bright globe surfaced on the horizon, rising slowly into the sky to sit like a silvery beacon amidst the many stars that glistened overhead--" "The moon!" chirped one of the children, and Ishara nodded softly. "Yes, it was the moon. Inka had never seen it so bright before, and as he stared up at it, there came a shifting of light and it looked as though a piece suddenly fell away. It started as a tiny spark, drifting and spiraling closer and closer to the earth. Inka tracked it, pacing to and fro as it fell. Finally it was within range, and Inka gave one of his graceful leaps and captured the piece between his teeth. It was the softest, silkiest, and most silvery white feather Inka had ever seen, and immediately he knew it had come from his crane. His heart swelled as he looked from the feather to the moon high above, and then Inka tipped his head back and sang, willing his mournful song to be carried amongst the stars to the beautiful bird he so loved." As Ishara finished her story, Raj gave a great gusty sigh, causing a few of the children to giggle. One of the girls aimed her dark eyes up at Ishara, her expression grave... "But wont he ever see his crane again?" "Every night, little one, every night as he sings to her," and with a bright smile, Isha leaned forward and offered her the white feather. With a shout of laughter, the girl plucked the feather up, and bounced to her feet. Holding it aloft, she began to dance in circles, and the other children all scrambled to their feet to join her. |