When they arrived back at the Glen, they found it much changed. Along both of the two main clearings wooden lampposts had been set up in which brands had been set, but had not yet been lit. The casings were fashioned from hard iron, making them surprisingly visible against the otherwise earthy tones of the Glen. From the lower branches of the trees hung sways of flower strung together, bright pinks and yellows and even some blues. Their fragrances were thrilling, a sweet call that only beckoned tem closer. And yet, even more than the brands, gave the Glen a brightness that none of them had seen before.
Tables were set out with various food, the pies and such, even more than before. Most were still quite warm, and each bearing the promise of a wonderful taste, a bliss from which they would not soon return. A few small raised platforms had been erected on either end of the clearing. Upon one, Misha saw Caroline playing a simple jaunty tune upon her flute. The fox could not help but smile at that, and ran ahead of the rest of the Longs to greet her.
Most of the rest of the women were still busy setting up decorations, but when they saw the Longs return, they all gave delighted shouts. From the crowd gathered to one side, and the numerous elk laying upon the cleared ground, it was clear that few of the men had not yet returned from the hunt. Quite a few were sprawled out against tree trunks resting their tired bodies while women brought them a little food and drink. Lord Avery himself looked weary, though he was telling his boys and several others of his travails in killing one of the larger elk.
It was only a short time after Misha had nearly leapt upon the stage and crashed into the otter that Charles saw Kimberly standing with Baerle as the two of them were lifting yet another string of flowers up to a low hanging branch. As there were not too many of them, some of the strands were held aloft by other wooden poles that appeared to have been placed within small holes dug from the Earth to hold them in place. The two were laughing as they worked, but it was Baerle who saw him first.
“Charles!” she called. Kimberly turned then, her belly clearly with child, or five little children in her case, and she also called his name, waving with one paw for him to come over.
Charles was still quite exhausted from dragging his elk across the vast distance. Yet he nevertheless broke out into a run, even as the other Longs all found somebody they wished to be with. It was not long before their entire party had broken up, leaving the wagons full of elk laying unattended in the entrance to the Glen.
It took him but a moment to reach them, and once there, he wrapped his arms about Kimberly in a tight embrace, planting a firm kiss upon her snout. She kissed in return, her breath warm against his face, her scent filled with the fragrance of the flowers and the pies. There was something else, something subtle that tantalized him and made his whiskers stand on end, but he could not place it.
“You’ve been busy,” Charles said at last, glancing once to Baerle, who stood close, but not too close. The opossum smiled back at him lightly, though there was a subtle distraction to her glance. The rat felt once more the bit of embarrassment that had come over him when he’d embraced her after the ice breaking. He gestured up at the ropes of flowers, and noticed for the first time that only a few of them were actual flowers. The rest were intricate lace work fashioned from bright cloths. He smiled at that and said, “This is very beautiful. From a distance they all look real!”
Kimberly smiled and glanced up at them as well. “Most of them were already made in previous years. We just spent some time fixing them up, and making a few new ones to replace the old.”
“And stringing on the real flowers in places to make them stand out,” Baerle added, her long tail curling about her paws. Her narrow snout moved between Kimberly and Charles, favouring them each with slightly different smiles. To Kimberly, her grin was warm and welcome, and open as if there were no secrets between them. But to Charles the opossum was slightly reserved, as if holding some great thing back.
The rat had a pretty good idea he knew what that was, but it had been quite some time since the two of them had shared even a moment alone together, and so they had not spoken of it in an equally long time. He was determined to enjoy the celebration nevertheless. Perhaps they would find a moment to speak soon. Strangely enough, he hoped that they would.
“Well, you did a wonderful job,” Charles said, smiling once more, and kissing his wife. He rested one paw on her belly, but still, he could not feel anything. But it did seem to be active down there. He wondered what she might feel within her womb coming to life, but did not ask then.
“So the Longs have returned?” a loud voice called from near the elks. Lord Avery had stood up, his children prancing about near him, each trying to get their father’s attention. He shushed them with a wave of his paws, and they fell silent. He then crossed his arms, gazing at the wagon load of elk that they had brought with them. “And do you think that you have an elk to beat the one that Berchem here has slain for us?”
All eyes went to the skunk archer who stood before a massive beast slain with but a single arrow. The skunk had his long bow between his paws, his tail curling up behind him over the cervine. His gaze was deliciously triumphant and his posture reflected that. There was little doubt in his mind that he had slain the largest of the elk, and he’d done so with only one shot. Charles let his eyes wander over the creature’s form, and a smile crept across his muzzle. While the kill was certainly very impressive, better than he himself had done. Better even than Meredith had managed with his crossbow. But it was still smaller than the mammoth that Finbar had slain with but his two daggers.
Misha let out a raucous laughter as he stood up on the raised platform with his paws around Caroline’s middle. He waved a dismissive paw at the skunk and his prize, and gestured back to Finbar, who still had his own snout buried with Danielle’s behind one of the pastry tables. “Our very own Finbar can beat that paltry offering!” Finbar did not look up then, but instead gripped Danielle’s slender paw in his own and led her back to the wagons, and showed her the elk he’d slain, which was hidden from the Glenners’s view. She smiled and hugged him tight, planting a firm kiss upon his muzzle when she saw what he’d done.
“Then show us this amazing find,” Berchem called back, still standing defiantly over his kill. There were more cries of the same from the Glenners. After a few moments, Finbar and Danielle broke their embrace, and the two mustelines lead the ponies around the other wagons, revealing the massive elk that he’d slain. There were a few sharp intakes of breath. Berchem himself narrowed his gaze, the skunk obviously not entirely pleased that he’d been beaten by a Keeper.
Out from one of the overhanging branches a large shape swooped down. This proved to be the woodpecker Burris who perched on one edge of the wagon with his slender talons. His long beak pored over the shape, nudging it in a few places, as his eyes scanned along the creature’s lifeless hide.
When the wagon finally came to a stop, the woodpecker lifted off again and swooped down to where Berchem and Lord Avery stood. “It is true. Finbar of the Longs has brought the largest elk for our celebration.”
At this, the skunk let out a loud laugh then, shaking his head in disbelief. He crossed the empty space between them, and clasped Finbar’s paw in a firm hold, embracing him in a comradely fashion. “Congratulations are in order then. Next time you won’t be so lucky.”
Finbar returned the embrace. “I’ll find a way.”
The pine marten that was dangling from his side nodder her agreement. “He always does.”
Berchem stood back a bit, gripping his bow tightly in one paw. “Then I must redouble my efforts.”
“Well,” Lord Avery said as he examined the kill. “That is one of the mightiest elk’s ever slain for the festivities good Keeper.” He smiled then, long tail twitching behind him. “Not quite the best, that distinction goes back to the days of my father, but still the finest in many years. Tomorrow we shall feast upon its flesh. But for now we must prepare the rest. Angus, do we have enough salt for this many?”
The badger who had followed after them along with most of the rest of the male Glenners nodded once. “We have enough and more. But we won’t after today!”
There was pleasant laughter at that, and many nodding heads. “How true!” Lord Avery then turned to Misha who looked on proudly as his fellow Long won great distinction and honour for himself and for the Longs. “So, Misha Brightleaf, we had a wager I believe. What is this dance that we must have.”
The fox let his grin show once more, plainly enjoying the moment. He winked once to Caroline, and she just laughed at that, still clutching her flute in one paw. “It will be the first dance of its kind anywhere in the world that I know of,” the fox said dramatically. “Never before has anything of its sort been attempted, for those that might have not existed before now.”
“What are you saying you, fox,” shouted one of the Glenners, though good-naturedly.
“I will show you all how it is that we will dance, at least those of us who have been made into animals, which is just about all of us.” He said with a sweep of his paws across the assembled Glenners. Charles openly laughed now, knowing exactly what his friend had in mind. Both Kimberly and Baerle looked at him strangely, wondering what had led him to laugh.
“I will be back in but a moment, no peeking now.” Misha leapt from the platform, and ran behind one of the large trees that stood at the outskirts of the clearing. Charles rubbed his paws together, looking at the faces of Lord Avery, Berchem, Angus and the rest, eager to see how they would react. He could already see his student Garigan rolling his eyes. His fellow Sondeckis likely already knew what was going to take place.
It took Misha only a few moments before he returned, this time standing upon four legs instead of two. A gasp arose amongst the Glenners, many rubbing their disbelieving eyes with their paws in order to bring the image into the proper focus. But no, those four legs remained, the massive fox-taur form visible for all to see and admire. Misha stood and jumped up onto the platform, making himself clear to all. “This is how we shall dance tomorrow! We shall dance as taurs. Or at least, as many of us that can take such a form will dance.”
“What magic is this?” one voice cried out. It was not the last, as several others chorused their amazement. Lord Avery’s eyes were wide and perplexed. Angus stared and stared again. Garigan shook his head, trying not to laugh too hard. Even James looked on, his ears folding back along his head.
“Only the magic of the curse,” Misha declared in delight. “I and a few other Longs have discovered the way to take on such a shape. It is nothing more than the Curse’s own doing. I will tell you all how to find this shape, and help any who are having difficulty. But the wager was made, and this is how I choose to be repaid for our victory. So you will all do your best to become taurs for a dance!”
Lord Avery finally let out a laugh. “When you asked for a dance, I had no idea this is what you meant. You rogue! If you wish us to embarrass ourselves that badly, very well! You shall have your dance tomorrow, and as many of us who can will join you in it.” He paused for a moment as these words sunk in with his fellow Glenners. And then he added, “We must prepare the meat first though, before any of it begins to spoil. If you would bring your elks to where we have the rest, we may begin. Afterwards, you may teach us to take on this form, and then we shall celebrate with a fine dinner.”
“And then you shall all taste of my special brew!” Lars called out from amongst the Glenners, his voice carrying over them all, deep and heavy. There were quite a few hearty shouts of joy at this, though it was mostly kept to the men.
Lady Avery then made herself heard over the rest. “If any of your men take a liking to Lars’s brew, I have a brew of mine own that you may give to him in the morning that will help.” Quite a few of the ladies laughed at that, including Kimberly. Charles winced, knowing exactly what sort of foul tasting concoction was to be ladled down his throat on the morn.
“And if you have a lady with a liking for the good Lady Angela’s brew,” the bear said with a laugh, “you’d best have a great deal of mine to make it worthwhile!”
At this, even Lady Avery could not help but smile and laugh. This was a day of celebration after all. How could any of them not want to celebrate in the best way possible? After the laughter managed to die down at long last, Lord Avery clapped his paws together, and started issuing directions on what to do with the elk. Giving Kimberly one final kiss, Charles, his body still sore, walked on over so that he might help. He hoped the evening came soon, because he really wanted to find out what the brew that the bruin had prepared was!
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