The Eleventh Day of Midwinter
Mei felt awful. His job was to stay awake in the pitch-dark cave in case Kon-kon came back on her own. Gabu and the others were still out searching, and had been gone for hours.
Shortly after midnight, Gabu, Greta and Sarah arrived, shepherding Kon-kon safely back home. Mei was overcome with relief. He tried to embrace the fox, but she backed away from him.
“Can I have a word with you two?” Greta said. Gabu and Mei lingered outside with her while Sarah took Kon-kon into the cave. Greta sighed sadly. “This isn’t working, is it?”
“I don’t know why she ran away,” Gabu said. It was clear from his voice that he’d been crying. Mei had been too.
“She needs a fox family to look after her,” Greta said. “We knew from the start that this arrangement probably wouldn’t be permanent. You two can continue to look after her while we look for a suitable family, of course.”
“We understand,” Mei said. “You still haven’t found her parents?”
“Sarah and I are now quite certain that she’s an orphan. We’ve spoken to every fox couple in the forest who might have birthed her, and none of them have claimed her as their own.”
“Would any of them be a good family to look after her, even if they’re not her parents?” Gabu asked.
Greta hesitated. “None of them are interested. We’ll keep looking, though.”
Gabu and Mei took turns staying awake, just in case Kon-kon tried to leave while both of them were asleep, but she stayed with them for the rest of the night. By the morning, both of them were exhausted.
Gabu gently nudged Mei awake. “Good morning, Mei,” he said wearily.
“Good morning,” Mei said. It was already light outside. Kon-kon was sitting at the mouth of the cave, staring out at the morning sky. “Did Kon-kon get any food last night?”
“I caught something for her right after we found her.”
“That’s good. Where was she?”
“Near the river, hiding in some reeds. Sarah thinks she was trying to cross the river, to the side of the forest where most of the foxes live, but she couldn’t get across.”
“Bird.”
“You think she was trying to—” Mei’s head caught up with his ears. “Bird?”
He and Gabu turned to look at Kon-kon. The soft, slightly high-pitched voice could only have come from her. She was still watching the sky. Mei followed Kon-kon’s gaze and saw two birds flying towards them. It was Hilari and her friend Camille.
Gabu was still staring at Kon-kon in amazement. “You said ‘bird,’” Gabu said delightedly. Kon-kon looked at him, blinked once, and then went back to watching the birds approach.
They landed politely just outside the threshold of the cave. Camille was a swift, around the same size as a sparrow but with much larger wings. Gabu and Mei had met her a few times, but they didn’t know each other as well as Gabu and Mei knew Hilari. She stayed back while Hilari greeted them.
“Hello, Uncles, and who’s this?” Hilari said, hopping forward to meet Kon-kon. For a moment, Mei worried that the fox would try to eat her, but Kon-kon only looked at Hilari with curiosity.
“This is Kon-kon,” Mei said. “We’re looking after her until she finds somewhere to stay permanently.”
“So she’s not your kid?” Hilari said.
Mei hesitated only slightly before saying, “No, we’re just looking after her. Kon-kon, this is Hilari. Gabu and I have been friends with her parents, Toto and Riri, since before she was born. Since we arrived here, in fact.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Hilari said. “Come and meet her, Cam,” she called to her friend.
Nervously, Camille hopped forward. Unlike Hilari, the swift hadn’t grown up around carnivores, and she seemed quite apprehensive about getting this close to an unfamiliar fox.
“Kon-kon,” Gabu said, “what was it you said to us just before Hilari and Camille arrived?”
There was a long pause, and then Kon-kon said, “Bird.”
“That’s right!” Hilari said. “I’m a sparrow, and Camille is a swift. We’re both birds. And what are you?”
“Fox,” Kon-kon said.
Mei was completely and utterly speechless. All this time, Kon-kon hadn’t said a single word to them, and now she’d said two different words in the span of just a few minutes.
“Great!” Hilari said. “And what are Gabu and Mei?”
Kon-kon turned her head and scrutinised Gabu and Mei intensely, as if she was making up her mind about them. “Parents,” she said at last.
Gabu made an involuntary noise of surprise that was a cross between a bark and a yelp. Mei’s mouth fell open. Hilari grinned at them.
“I thought you said you were just looking after her,” Camille said.
“Clearly, Kon-kon thinks otherwise,” Hilari said.
Mei stepped forward. “Kon-kon, do you…think of us as parents?” he said, hardly daring to hope that the answer could be yes. After thinking it over, Kon-kon nodded slowly. Almost weeping with joy, Mei tried once again to embrace Kon-kon, but once again the fox backed away. “You don’t like being hugged, huh?” She shook her head quickly. “That’s… That’s all right.”
“We’d love to be your parents, Kon-kon,” Gabu said, “but wouldn’t you be happier living with other foxes?”
Kon-kon looked away. “Not sure.”
“You mean you’d be happier in some ways but sadder in other ways?” Mei asked. The fox nodded.
“Do you know where your fox parents are?” Gabu said. She shook her head. “Do you remember anything about them?” She hesitated, and then shook her head again. Gabu sighed. Another dead end.
“Thank you for telling us,” Mei said. “We really want what’s best for you, Kon-kon, but it’s a little difficult to know what that is.” Kon-kon gave him a small smile, which brought tears to his eyes once again.
“Do you know any games, Kon-kon?” Hilari asked once the moment had passed. She shook her head. “How about we see which of us is fastest? Cam and I used to play that game all the time, but she always wins now.”
Kon-kon looked interested, and followed Hilari and Camille to the mouth of the cave.
“No eating anyone, Kon-kon!” Mei said hurriedly. “You promise?” The fox paused just long enough to look back and nod once before pouncing out of the cave to join the two birds, who were already out of sight.
Gabu and Mei exchanged a glance. “Parents,” Mei said.
“I know!” Gabu said, grinning. Then his face became serious. “But I’m still not sure we’ll be enough for her. She definitely misses having other foxes around, Mei.”
Mei looked outside to where Kon-kon was jumping up at Hilari and Camille, who were flying just out of reach. “I know. And foxes don’t hunt in the same way as wolves, do they? Are you really going to be able to teach her everything she needs to know?”
“Perhaps not,” Gabu said pensively. “Do you think she’ll try to run away again?”
“If she does, there’s no way Greta and Sarah will let us keep looking after her.”
“Why do we have to do what they say? What if Kon-kon wants to stay with us?”
“Then she won’t run away,” Mei said, more confidently than he felt. “And besides, do we really want to get on Greta’s bad side when all she wants is what’s best for Kon-kon, the same as us?”
“I guess not,” Gabu said, responding to both statements. He, too, looked outside at the playing fox and birds. “Shall we go out and join them?”
Mei had never seen a swift flying at full speed before. It was quite literally the fastest thing he had ever seen. “As fast as the wind in a storm,” Camille said proudly. She made a game of seeing how many times she could encircle the hill in the time it took each of the others to encircle it once. Her record was five times, which was against Mei, although he was considerably worn out by that point, so it didn’t really count.
Kon-kon and Hilari had a lot of fun chasing each other around, and were quite evenly matched in terms of speed. There was a tense moment where Kon-kon performed an unexpected leap and could have caught Hilari easily in her jaws. Thankfully, she kept her promise and didn’t, keeping her mouth closed and merely nudging Hilari’s tail feathers from behind.
The fox also had fun chasing after Gabu and Mei, often at the same time, and span around in indecision when the two of them split up and ran separate ways.
“Pick an animal to chase and focus on it—I mean, them,” Gabu advised.
After that, Kon-kon focused primarily on Mei. Mei was a fast runner, even by the standard of other goats, and was confident that he could stay ahead of most wolves, including Gabu, if it came to an outright chase. But Kon-kon was faster, if only by a small amount. She always caught up with Mei if the chase lasted long enough, or if Mei didn’t have enough of a head start.
Luckily, even an adult fox was unlikely to be a threat to an adult goat, so Mei wasn’t worried for himself. It did make him have second thoughts about teaching Kon-kon to hunt and then loosing her on the forest, however, but what difference would one fox make? The answer to that question was, of course, countless lives, but Mei decided not to think on it any further. His philosophy days were behind him, and after all, they’d committed to looking after Kon-kon, and that meant teaching her how to hunt.
When everyone had tired themselves out, they returned to the cave. Kon-kon was noticeably more cheerful after the day’s activities, and while she still refused to say more than two words at a time, she responded vocally more often than not when asked a direct question.
“It’s been lovely meeting you,” Hilari said to Kon-kon. “Can we come back to play more another day?”
“Yes!” Kon-kon said enthusiastically. Gabu and Mei beamed with pride.
“We’d better be going now, Hil,” Camille said, and the two birds left the new-found family of three alone in their cave.
“I’m so glad you’re speaking to us now, Kon-kon,” Mei said. “Did you have fun today?”
Kon-kon nodded and said, “Lots.”
“Tomorrow’s Theatre Day,” Gabu said. “We’ll get to see M—Daddy Mei acting and singing songs.”
Daddy Mei, Mei thought with delight. We’re Daddy Gabu and Daddy Mei. “It’s also the last day of Midwinter tomorrow, isn’t it?” he said, still grinning.
Gabu spent a moment counting in his head. “That’s right. It’s been an eventful few days, huh?”
“Life-changing,” Mei said.