Rayven and the Fox

The weight of the chilled autumn rain causes crispy leaves to fall, creating soft soggy piles under the trees that line the town streets. Rayven tightly holds her to-go cup of chia tea, hoping to coax some warmth through her knit gloves as she walks along the puddled sidewalks. Despite the damp cold creeping into her bones, she is in no rush to return home to the emptiness that awaits her. The town feels still, with the only signs of life being the warm string lights twinkling among the shop fronts, the dance of rainy leaves, and the occasional passing car. As she carefully sips her tea, she feels her cold, red nose press against the lid. Making her way to the local park, she cuts through, passing soaked, empty park benches and the trees and shrubbery along the park paths. She hesitates, wondering if she should take a moment to sit on one of the waterlogged benches. Suddenly, she spots some movement at the far corner of the park and squints to get a better look. A bright red fox, perfectly still, stands there like a statue, watching her. Even in it’s stillness, it is the most vibrant and lively thing in all the dreary town. She stands, completely captivated by the sight of the fox, its tiny black nose twitching as it sniffs the air. Rayven takes a cautious step closer, observing its every movement. The fox remains still, its soft eyes and wiggling nose almost inviting her to come nearer.

As she approaches, the fox suddenly turns and heads into the woods, prompting her heart to race with concern that she has startled it. But then, the fox glances back at her and gestures toward the woods. Is it signaling for her to follow? Anxiously, she takes another step, and to her surprise, the fox mimics her movement. They navigate the damp, gloomy woods together, never straying more than three feet apart. Rayven is captivated by the sight of the small red fox leading her. The only color in the lifeless brown-grey woods. How is its fur completely dry? A branch scrapes her shoulder, diverting her attention from her furry guide. The woods have darkened as if the entire day has slipped away in just minutes of hiking. She looks around, feeling a surge of panic. How long has she been walking? Is she lost? Rayven does not recognize anything in her surroundings. She clutches her to-go cup in her frantic search and finds that it's still hot. That’s not possible. Fear and confusion overwhelm her as she looks back at the fox, waiting patiently for them to proceed. At this moment, all she can do is press on; she is otherwise helpless. She inhales deeply, nods, and resumes walking. The fox quickens its pace, and Rayven struggles to keep up. Just as she's about to beg the fox to slow down, she spots light at the forest's edge. Relief floods her, and she breaks into a sprint, stumbling and tripping with a smile on her face.

She emerges from the woods, her heart racing and her breath coming in rapid, fiery gasps. Taking in her surroundings, she realizes she is in the park where she had begun. The familiar trees, shrubs, and benches are there, but something is different; the sun is shining, and the air is dry and crisp. The trees are adorned with vibrant yellow, orange, and red leaves, and people are strolling around the park and through the streets. It almost seems as if it never rained. Looking down at the fox by her side, it meets her gaze and then nudges her leg with its paw. Glancing back at the park, she notices that while it looks the same, there is a new energy in the air. Besides the weather, it feels less desolate, as if more life pulses through the area than before. Kneeling to the fox, she reaches out tentatively, and it leans into her touch. A soft smile crosses her face as she murmurs, "Thank you."