Friendship makes
a Difference~
Started 12/21/13. Finished on 10/7/15. Formatting and dialogue edits on 12/10/18.
“I smell hare.” Typhoon said. The frisky fox scratched behind his ears. “It's pretty strong too; ran through here not long ago.”
“Ugh, I'm sick of always eating hare. I miss the salmon from the mountain rivers,” Maple complained, coming up behind him. “And the berries from the bushes, and the cones from the firs...”
“Shush.” Typhoon commanded. Maple stopped, and sat down heavily on her bum.
“Isn't there anything else?” the black bear asked. “I need to get back to sleep soon. It's so cold.”
“Of course it's cold silly, it's winter,” Typhoon said.
“Why didn't I eat that deer like Mother said,” Maple muttered.
“Don't worry, this hare will be more than a mouthful.” Typhoon began to creep up the trail.
“'More'? Hares are nothing but mouthfuls,” she scoffed. Typhoon silenced her with a twitch from his tail, and continued up the trail. Maple waited a little impatiently, staring at the frost-covered pines. She didn't fatten up like she needed to, so she kept waking up in the middle of the winter, famished. It was bad practice, she knew, but luckily Typhoon was there to help feed her. All of the winter animals were too feisty for her to catch, especially since she was more of a forager; eating fruits and nuts off the trees and ground, eating no more meat than a fat juicy salmon could provide. But in the winter, any remaining animals were scrawny, alert, and quick in their ways, and none of the plants produced any more delicious snacks for her. She heard a loud snap, a bit of a squeak, and some rustling.
“Did you catch it?” she called to Typhoon. He did most of the hunting, since she was unable to. She made up for his efforts though in sharing the meal and helping him out of hunters' traps. She was rather certain their friendship was strong enough to last through the winter.
Typhoon came out with a pitiful white rabbit in his jaws. It was hard to see against the snow-laden forest. He lay it down in front of her and waited.
“That's it?” she asked. He snorted.
“Of course that's it. I couldn't catch the other two at the same time could I? Plus, they'll make more rabbits for us.”
“But it's so little,” Maple continued to complain.
“If you aren't eating it I am,” Typhoon said.
“Doh.” She laid down and reluctantly took a bite. The meat was already cold, and it was rather stringy. Typhoon nosed the legs. Maple was always surprised at how little the fox could eat and still have the energy to keep hunting.
“What happened to the fat geese on the lake?” she said, gulping down her morsel.
“They flew south for the winter,” Typhoon explained.
“But why?”
“Same reason you go to sleep. It's too cold and there's never enough food to go around.”
“But why go through the effort of flying all the way to another place when you could just sleep?”
“I don't know, I'm no goose,” Typhoon said, chewing on a leg. Maple pawed at her nose, a habit she gained whenever she's confused.
“Okay...” She said in bewilderment.
They finished off the rabbit together and wandered through the forest. It was dim, and everything was a dull grey or white, blending in with its monotone surroundings. Maple kept bumping into various obstacles, some she couldn't even identify. Typhoon would consistently look over his shoulder and jump when she did. He's slowly getting used to having to warn her of things up ahead.
“Frozen stream,” he called back to her. She saw him leap over what appeared to be a normal path of snow. Maple approached the area cautiously.
“It starts..... there,” Typhoon said, nodding to her paws. She stared down.
“I don't see anything,” she said.
“It's there,” Typhoon insisted. He scratched a line in the snow in front of him. “Ends here.”
Maple eyed the distance. “I don't think I can jump that...”
“Don't worry, only a little bit,” he said, “If you don't think you can go two more steps then jump.”
“I don't think I can jump that either,” Maple said doubtfully.
“Fine, one more step. But the ice is thin,” Typhoon warned. Maple placed her paw in front of her. So that's one, she thought. Nothing felt different about it. Another tentative step. The ground suddenly felt unsure. Two. She hesitated before placing the next paw down. There was a sharp crack, but nothing more.
“That's a little far!” Typhoon said, suddenly nervous. “Okay, now jump!”
“I don't think I can, Typhoon,” Maple admitted.
“Yes you can. I've seen deer jump that stream all the time,” he claimed.
“Deer can jump better than I can,” the black bear said.
“Okay, moose.”
“Moose can't jump at all! And they're so big.”
“Just jump!” Typhoon said in mild frustration. She took several deep breaths. You can do it Maple! You've jumped to the Home Cave before. She bunched up, keeping her eyes on the opposite shore, where Typhoon was standing.
And she sprang.
She felt a brief moment like she was flying through the air, but it was obvious she didn't go far. When she landed she heard a loud, frightening snap, accompanied with several smaller pops and crackles, as though a tree was falling down, and her back legs slipped into some frighteningly cold water. She saw Typhoon panic, and she scrambled at the snow in an attempt to escape. She kicked with her legs, but only seemed to sink in further.
“Maple! Grab the branch!” Typhoon swung a large fallen bough to her reach from the shore. She grabbed it firmly in her teeth, but the bough wasn't heavy enough to support her and only added to the weight. She slipped in farther, up to her neck.
“Hold on, Maple!”
“Typhoon!” the black bear cried, muffled from the frozen bark of the bough. She could see the end of it dancing through the air. Typhoon jumped high up to the end, and snatched it in his jaws. He weighted it down, but not enough. Maple, in the back of her mind, wondered how a stream could be so deep. She struggled to keep her head above the water, unable to find the bottom of it, and the more she struggled the more number her legs became.
And here she thought that black bears were the best swimmers! She was just out of her cub years though, and her Mother didn't like it when she played in water, for some reason. Very strange.
She heard heavy footsteps approaching, and suddenly the other end of the bough gained a hundred pounds. Maple felt her self being flung out of the water, and the bough, still in her teeth, spun to the side so she landed on the shore. She landed very heavily, her breath knocked out of her.
“Maple! Are you okay?” She lay there for a bit, regaining energy lost while fighting the water, and answered Typhoon with a brief “Yeah”.
“Thank goodness. I will never overestimate your jumping abilities again,” the fox replied, licking water from her fur.
“How did I get out of the water?” she asked him. Typhoon turned, and she saw a great elk standing at the other end.
“He came just in time,” Typhoon said. The elk nodded to her in greeting.
“Some very strange companions,” he commented, “I honestly expected something different.”
“Thank you, Elk,” Maple said.
“Ah, no need to,” he said, “I do what I can.”
Maple nodded understandingly. Elk weren't always too appealing to her, especially their smell, but they were a very kind lot. She ought to pay him back sometime.
After the stream incident, she and Typhoon continued their wanders. They never found much else. Maple sniffed out a good place to rest, a dry overhang, and she and Typhoon curled up together underneath it for the night.
When morning came, it just as dull of a grey as it was before. Maple yawned and stretched, and noticed Typhoon was gone. She sniffed the cold air and found his scent leading out from the overhang and back into the forest. She wasn't too surprised; sometimes he'll go on morning hunting expeditions and bring something back. She picked herself up wearily and plodded after the scent trail.
The trail weaved through the trees in the comical pattern she recognized. Whenever it surpassed an obstacle she couldn't challenge, she simply found a way around it and continued to follow the trail. Maple could imagine Typhoon's bushy tail in front of her the whole way, telling her about this or that. She then found herself following a straightened out trail that told her that Typhoon had found something; whenever he spots something of interest he makes a beeline for it.
As she was walking along though another scent trail came across her path. She recognized wolf smells, along with the smells of prey. She paused between the intersection, and her stomach rumbled.
“Follow Typhoon.... or follow a wolf with prey?” She sat down and pondered the situation aloud. “Typhoon doesn't always find something, sometimes it's a false scent, or he loses it. But the wolf is guaranteed to have something, and he might share. Hm... What do you think stomach?” she asked herself. It growled at her.
“Yeah, I'm thinking the same thing,” she agreed, “Besides, Typhoon can have something by himself for once, instead of having to split it with me.” Maple got up again and began pursuing the wolf.
Unlike a fox's, the wolf's trail was much more linear and treated obstacles in the same manner she did, by going around, instead of simply bounding over or squeezing past them. She found the walk rather pleasant, aside from her hunger, and soon came across the wolf in the middle of a small clearing. He was nosing a rabbit, but unlike the previous ones she had eaten, the rabbit was very large and fat. It was also easier to see due to the black spots on it. She didn't falter in her step, and the wolf looked up at the sound of her coming.
He didn't seem alarmed, but he was still cautious. She could tell that he knew why she was there.
“It's mine,” he mumbled, taking another bite. Maple salivated. It looked so good!
“Can't I have just a little?” she asked.
“No, my catch,” he said stubbornly.
“Please? Just a taste?” she begged.
“No. My catch,” the wolf repeated. She sat down in front of him. She didn't come all this way to be pestered by this creature.
“Look, if you let me have a taste, I'll do something for you.”
“Like what?”
“I don't know. Where did you get it?”
“Farmer down south.”
Maple was suddenly hesitant to eat it. Human farmers did not like it when forest dwellers interfered with their livestock. Oh, but it looked and smelled so delicious!
The wolf paused, staring at her.
“Look, how about this. I'll give you a riddle. If you can't solve it within three tries, you leave me alone. But if you succeed, I'll let you have the rest. Deal?”
“Yes!” Maple burst out. She was confident she could solve the wolf's riddle. Wolves weren't any more clever than bears were, were they?
“Okay, let me think of one,” the wolf said. He furrowed his brow in concentration and stared at the sky. Maple waited rather impatiently. The wolf suddenly turned back to her.
“Okay, so, when does water fly?” he asked.
And just like that, Maple was stumped.
“Uh. Is that an actual question?” she asked.
“Yeah.” The wolf sat down and wrapped his tail over his paws. “When does water fly?”
“Uh...” Maple tried to think of all of the instances of water she knew of. Rivers, lakes, streams, ponds... none of those can fly! Wait!
“Rain?” she said.
“Hm, I wouldn't call that flying, more like falling,” the wolf said, “That's one.”
“Oh, um.” Maple continued to think. Maybe it was a trick question, and the answer was something that wasn't normal. She pawed at her muzzle.
“An upside down lake?”
“Nope. That's two.”
Maple bounced in frustration. She couldn't think of anything that would work.
“Can you give me a hint?” she asked.
“Rather not,” the wolf said, “but here; it's up above you right now.”
Maple immediately looked upward. What was above her? Various wintering birds, the sky, tree branches. Hm, there's snow on the branches.
“What about snow? When you throw it into the air?” She slammed her paws down on the fluffy snow in demonstration, scattering flakes everywhere. She and the wolf sneezed.
“Sorry about that,” she said. The wolf gave a final sneeze before shaking his head.
“A good answer, but also not what I had in mind,” he said.
“Awww,” Maple whined, “Can you give me one more try?”
“What answer do you have in mind?” he asked.
“A backward flowing river. That goes up right? Because water usually goes down.”
“Also good, but still not right,” the wolf said. “Sorry.”
“Awwwww...” Maple complained. She stared at the ground foolishly, and allowed the wolf to pick up the rabbit and bounce away with it. Oh, if only Typhoon was here to answer it! He knows weird things like that.
“Flying water,” she scoffed, getting back up and retracing her steps. “I bet you there is no answer to that. I bet that wolf just wanted to have that rabbit all to himself.”
She continued along, her mind filled with questions about flying water. She was barely paying attention to where she was putting her paws, and was jerked back to reality when a loud snap sounded right by her leg. She reared, twisted and scrambled backward.
“What was that?!” she cried. Nothing answered her. Nothing but the shining, glinting frost-covered teeth of a rather nasty bear trap.
“Hunter's lands?” Maple asked herself, “But... surely I haven't wandered that far south.” She sniffed the air, and caught something familiar.
Typhoon! And it was still strong. She spun about, trying to find the trail's path, and began to race down it.
“Typhoon! Typhoon!!” she called.
A brief silence. Then...
“Maple!” A weak cry responded to her in the distance.
“Typhoon!” she echoed back. Her paws pounded on the ground and trees blurred past. The sun broke from the clouds and lit her way with brilliant white snow. The color snow should be. There were dark patches where more bear traps lay concealed, and the sun helped her spot these patches and steer clear of them with ease.
She jumped into a clearing and skidded to a stop in front of a bright patch of orange fur in the snow.
“Typhoon!” she squealed.
“Maple!” The fur jumped, and began licking her nose. “Maple, I'm stuck.”
The black bear sniffed the air. It was warmer here, and there was a faint scent of humans.
“Did you run into a trap field?” she asked, noticing sharp metal teeth clamped around Typhoon's back leg, like a merciless monster trying to drag him under.
“Yeah. I'm not sure what spooked me, but I bolted into here without even noticing it,” the fox admitted, “I-I'm not usually like that.”
“Was it a hunter with a crackle stick?” Maple wondered, using all of her strength to pry the trap open.
“It might have been a boom stick. There was just this really loud bang and it sent me packing,” Typhoon said. Maple grunted as the teeth parted hardly two inches while the trap fought her. Typhoon seized his chance and jerked his leg out of it, and Maple let go. The trap snapped viciously at them in defeat.
“Did birds fly up and all around?” Maple asked, cleaning Typhoon's wound.
“I don't know, I tried to get out of there as fast as possible,” he said.
“Mm. I'm glad you did,” she said warmly. He nodded, looking tired. “Let's go nap,” she suggested. Typhoon merely nodded again and allowed her to lead, leaning against her as he limped along.
They reached the overhang near sundown, and Maple dug a shallow pit in the earth for Typhoon. He curled up in it, and she lay near the edge so the wind wouldn't bother him. She yawned.
“Hey... hey Typhoon,” she said.
“Yeah?” he asked sleepily.
“When does water fly?”
“Well... clouds consist of water, and they fly all the time.”
Maple paused to process that. “Oh. I always thought clouds were flying white sheep.”
He chuckled, but a glance told Maple he was already sleeping. She yawned again.
Good to have him back. Good to have him back...
“Ugh, I'm sick of always eating hare. I miss the salmon from the mountain rivers,” Maple complained, coming up behind him. “And the berries from the bushes, and the cones from the firs...”
“Shush.” Typhoon commanded. Maple stopped, and sat down heavily on her bum.
“Isn't there anything else?” the black bear asked. “I need to get back to sleep soon. It's so cold.”
“Of course it's cold silly, it's winter,” Typhoon said.
“Why didn't I eat that deer like Mother said,” Maple muttered.
“Don't worry, this hare will be more than a mouthful.” Typhoon began to creep up the trail.
“'More'? Hares are nothing but mouthfuls,” she scoffed. Typhoon silenced her with a twitch from his tail, and continued up the trail. Maple waited a little impatiently, staring at the frost-covered pines. She didn't fatten up like she needed to, so she kept waking up in the middle of the winter, famished. It was bad practice, she knew, but luckily Typhoon was there to help feed her. All of the winter animals were too feisty for her to catch, especially since she was more of a forager; eating fruits and nuts off the trees and ground, eating no more meat than a fat juicy salmon could provide. But in the winter, any remaining animals were scrawny, alert, and quick in their ways, and none of the plants produced any more delicious snacks for her. She heard a loud snap, a bit of a squeak, and some rustling.
“Did you catch it?” she called to Typhoon. He did most of the hunting, since she was unable to. She made up for his efforts though in sharing the meal and helping him out of hunters' traps. She was rather certain their friendship was strong enough to last through the winter.
Typhoon came out with a pitiful white rabbit in his jaws. It was hard to see against the snow-laden forest. He lay it down in front of her and waited.
“That's it?” she asked. He snorted.
“Of course that's it. I couldn't catch the other two at the same time could I? Plus, they'll make more rabbits for us.”
“But it's so little,” Maple continued to complain.
“If you aren't eating it I am,” Typhoon said.
“Doh.” She laid down and reluctantly took a bite. The meat was already cold, and it was rather stringy. Typhoon nosed the legs. Maple was always surprised at how little the fox could eat and still have the energy to keep hunting.
“What happened to the fat geese on the lake?” she said, gulping down her morsel.
“They flew south for the winter,” Typhoon explained.
“But why?”
“Same reason you go to sleep. It's too cold and there's never enough food to go around.”
“But why go through the effort of flying all the way to another place when you could just sleep?”
“I don't know, I'm no goose,” Typhoon said, chewing on a leg. Maple pawed at her nose, a habit she gained whenever she's confused.
“Okay...” She said in bewilderment.
They finished off the rabbit together and wandered through the forest. It was dim, and everything was a dull grey or white, blending in with its monotone surroundings. Maple kept bumping into various obstacles, some she couldn't even identify. Typhoon would consistently look over his shoulder and jump when she did. He's slowly getting used to having to warn her of things up ahead.
“Frozen stream,” he called back to her. She saw him leap over what appeared to be a normal path of snow. Maple approached the area cautiously.
“It starts..... there,” Typhoon said, nodding to her paws. She stared down.
“I don't see anything,” she said.
“It's there,” Typhoon insisted. He scratched a line in the snow in front of him. “Ends here.”
Maple eyed the distance. “I don't think I can jump that...”
“Don't worry, only a little bit,” he said, “If you don't think you can go two more steps then jump.”
“I don't think I can jump that either,” Maple said doubtfully.
“Fine, one more step. But the ice is thin,” Typhoon warned. Maple placed her paw in front of her. So that's one, she thought. Nothing felt different about it. Another tentative step. The ground suddenly felt unsure. Two. She hesitated before placing the next paw down. There was a sharp crack, but nothing more.
“That's a little far!” Typhoon said, suddenly nervous. “Okay, now jump!”
“I don't think I can, Typhoon,” Maple admitted.
“Yes you can. I've seen deer jump that stream all the time,” he claimed.
“Deer can jump better than I can,” the black bear said.
“Okay, moose.”
“Moose can't jump at all! And they're so big.”
“Just jump!” Typhoon said in mild frustration. She took several deep breaths. You can do it Maple! You've jumped to the Home Cave before. She bunched up, keeping her eyes on the opposite shore, where Typhoon was standing.
And she sprang.
She felt a brief moment like she was flying through the air, but it was obvious she didn't go far. When she landed she heard a loud, frightening snap, accompanied with several smaller pops and crackles, as though a tree was falling down, and her back legs slipped into some frighteningly cold water. She saw Typhoon panic, and she scrambled at the snow in an attempt to escape. She kicked with her legs, but only seemed to sink in further.
“Maple! Grab the branch!” Typhoon swung a large fallen bough to her reach from the shore. She grabbed it firmly in her teeth, but the bough wasn't heavy enough to support her and only added to the weight. She slipped in farther, up to her neck.
“Hold on, Maple!”
“Typhoon!” the black bear cried, muffled from the frozen bark of the bough. She could see the end of it dancing through the air. Typhoon jumped high up to the end, and snatched it in his jaws. He weighted it down, but not enough. Maple, in the back of her mind, wondered how a stream could be so deep. She struggled to keep her head above the water, unable to find the bottom of it, and the more she struggled the more number her legs became.
And here she thought that black bears were the best swimmers! She was just out of her cub years though, and her Mother didn't like it when she played in water, for some reason. Very strange.
She heard heavy footsteps approaching, and suddenly the other end of the bough gained a hundred pounds. Maple felt her self being flung out of the water, and the bough, still in her teeth, spun to the side so she landed on the shore. She landed very heavily, her breath knocked out of her.
“Maple! Are you okay?” She lay there for a bit, regaining energy lost while fighting the water, and answered Typhoon with a brief “Yeah”.
“Thank goodness. I will never overestimate your jumping abilities again,” the fox replied, licking water from her fur.
“How did I get out of the water?” she asked him. Typhoon turned, and she saw a great elk standing at the other end.
“He came just in time,” Typhoon said. The elk nodded to her in greeting.
“Some very strange companions,” he commented, “I honestly expected something different.”
“Thank you, Elk,” Maple said.
“Ah, no need to,” he said, “I do what I can.”
Maple nodded understandingly. Elk weren't always too appealing to her, especially their smell, but they were a very kind lot. She ought to pay him back sometime.
After the stream incident, she and Typhoon continued their wanders. They never found much else. Maple sniffed out a good place to rest, a dry overhang, and she and Typhoon curled up together underneath it for the night.
When morning came, it just as dull of a grey as it was before. Maple yawned and stretched, and noticed Typhoon was gone. She sniffed the cold air and found his scent leading out from the overhang and back into the forest. She wasn't too surprised; sometimes he'll go on morning hunting expeditions and bring something back. She picked herself up wearily and plodded after the scent trail.
The trail weaved through the trees in the comical pattern she recognized. Whenever it surpassed an obstacle she couldn't challenge, she simply found a way around it and continued to follow the trail. Maple could imagine Typhoon's bushy tail in front of her the whole way, telling her about this or that. She then found herself following a straightened out trail that told her that Typhoon had found something; whenever he spots something of interest he makes a beeline for it.
As she was walking along though another scent trail came across her path. She recognized wolf smells, along with the smells of prey. She paused between the intersection, and her stomach rumbled.
“Follow Typhoon.... or follow a wolf with prey?” She sat down and pondered the situation aloud. “Typhoon doesn't always find something, sometimes it's a false scent, or he loses it. But the wolf is guaranteed to have something, and he might share. Hm... What do you think stomach?” she asked herself. It growled at her.
“Yeah, I'm thinking the same thing,” she agreed, “Besides, Typhoon can have something by himself for once, instead of having to split it with me.” Maple got up again and began pursuing the wolf.
Unlike a fox's, the wolf's trail was much more linear and treated obstacles in the same manner she did, by going around, instead of simply bounding over or squeezing past them. She found the walk rather pleasant, aside from her hunger, and soon came across the wolf in the middle of a small clearing. He was nosing a rabbit, but unlike the previous ones she had eaten, the rabbit was very large and fat. It was also easier to see due to the black spots on it. She didn't falter in her step, and the wolf looked up at the sound of her coming.
He didn't seem alarmed, but he was still cautious. She could tell that he knew why she was there.
“It's mine,” he mumbled, taking another bite. Maple salivated. It looked so good!
“Can't I have just a little?” she asked.
“No, my catch,” he said stubbornly.
“Please? Just a taste?” she begged.
“No. My catch,” the wolf repeated. She sat down in front of him. She didn't come all this way to be pestered by this creature.
“Look, if you let me have a taste, I'll do something for you.”
“Like what?”
“I don't know. Where did you get it?”
“Farmer down south.”
Maple was suddenly hesitant to eat it. Human farmers did not like it when forest dwellers interfered with their livestock. Oh, but it looked and smelled so delicious!
The wolf paused, staring at her.
“Look, how about this. I'll give you a riddle. If you can't solve it within three tries, you leave me alone. But if you succeed, I'll let you have the rest. Deal?”
“Yes!” Maple burst out. She was confident she could solve the wolf's riddle. Wolves weren't any more clever than bears were, were they?
“Okay, let me think of one,” the wolf said. He furrowed his brow in concentration and stared at the sky. Maple waited rather impatiently. The wolf suddenly turned back to her.
“Okay, so, when does water fly?” he asked.
And just like that, Maple was stumped.
“Uh. Is that an actual question?” she asked.
“Yeah.” The wolf sat down and wrapped his tail over his paws. “When does water fly?”
“Uh...” Maple tried to think of all of the instances of water she knew of. Rivers, lakes, streams, ponds... none of those can fly! Wait!
“Rain?” she said.
“Hm, I wouldn't call that flying, more like falling,” the wolf said, “That's one.”
“Oh, um.” Maple continued to think. Maybe it was a trick question, and the answer was something that wasn't normal. She pawed at her muzzle.
“An upside down lake?”
“Nope. That's two.”
Maple bounced in frustration. She couldn't think of anything that would work.
“Can you give me a hint?” she asked.
“Rather not,” the wolf said, “but here; it's up above you right now.”
Maple immediately looked upward. What was above her? Various wintering birds, the sky, tree branches. Hm, there's snow on the branches.
“What about snow? When you throw it into the air?” She slammed her paws down on the fluffy snow in demonstration, scattering flakes everywhere. She and the wolf sneezed.
“Sorry about that,” she said. The wolf gave a final sneeze before shaking his head.
“A good answer, but also not what I had in mind,” he said.
“Awww,” Maple whined, “Can you give me one more try?”
“What answer do you have in mind?” he asked.
“A backward flowing river. That goes up right? Because water usually goes down.”
“Also good, but still not right,” the wolf said. “Sorry.”
“Awwwww...” Maple complained. She stared at the ground foolishly, and allowed the wolf to pick up the rabbit and bounce away with it. Oh, if only Typhoon was here to answer it! He knows weird things like that.
“Flying water,” she scoffed, getting back up and retracing her steps. “I bet you there is no answer to that. I bet that wolf just wanted to have that rabbit all to himself.”
She continued along, her mind filled with questions about flying water. She was barely paying attention to where she was putting her paws, and was jerked back to reality when a loud snap sounded right by her leg. She reared, twisted and scrambled backward.
“What was that?!” she cried. Nothing answered her. Nothing but the shining, glinting frost-covered teeth of a rather nasty bear trap.
“Hunter's lands?” Maple asked herself, “But... surely I haven't wandered that far south.” She sniffed the air, and caught something familiar.
Typhoon! And it was still strong. She spun about, trying to find the trail's path, and began to race down it.
“Typhoon! Typhoon!!” she called.
A brief silence. Then...
“Maple!” A weak cry responded to her in the distance.
“Typhoon!” she echoed back. Her paws pounded on the ground and trees blurred past. The sun broke from the clouds and lit her way with brilliant white snow. The color snow should be. There were dark patches where more bear traps lay concealed, and the sun helped her spot these patches and steer clear of them with ease.
She jumped into a clearing and skidded to a stop in front of a bright patch of orange fur in the snow.
“Typhoon!” she squealed.
“Maple!” The fur jumped, and began licking her nose. “Maple, I'm stuck.”
The black bear sniffed the air. It was warmer here, and there was a faint scent of humans.
“Did you run into a trap field?” she asked, noticing sharp metal teeth clamped around Typhoon's back leg, like a merciless monster trying to drag him under.
“Yeah. I'm not sure what spooked me, but I bolted into here without even noticing it,” the fox admitted, “I-I'm not usually like that.”
“Was it a hunter with a crackle stick?” Maple wondered, using all of her strength to pry the trap open.
“It might have been a boom stick. There was just this really loud bang and it sent me packing,” Typhoon said. Maple grunted as the teeth parted hardly two inches while the trap fought her. Typhoon seized his chance and jerked his leg out of it, and Maple let go. The trap snapped viciously at them in defeat.
“Did birds fly up and all around?” Maple asked, cleaning Typhoon's wound.
“I don't know, I tried to get out of there as fast as possible,” he said.
“Mm. I'm glad you did,” she said warmly. He nodded, looking tired. “Let's go nap,” she suggested. Typhoon merely nodded again and allowed her to lead, leaning against her as he limped along.
They reached the overhang near sundown, and Maple dug a shallow pit in the earth for Typhoon. He curled up in it, and she lay near the edge so the wind wouldn't bother him. She yawned.
“Hey... hey Typhoon,” she said.
“Yeah?” he asked sleepily.
“When does water fly?”
“Well... clouds consist of water, and they fly all the time.”
Maple paused to process that. “Oh. I always thought clouds were flying white sheep.”
He chuckled, but a glance told Maple he was already sleeping. She yawned again.
Good to have him back. Good to have him back...
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