The Second Day of Midwinter

“Mei!” the adult goat called in a feminine, sing-song voice. For some reason, he couldn’t make out her face; it faded into the fog whenever he tried to focus on it.

“Where are you?” he called back. His voice was higher than he remembered it being.

“I’m right beside you, where I’ll always be.” The voice sounded like it was coming from a long way away.

“But I can’t see you.”

“That’s okay, Mei. All you need to do is run, as fast as you can, back to Grandma and the others. Can you do that for me?” The cheerful voice echoed in the cold, misty air. “Don’t be frightened.”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” he said.

Suddenly, the sky darkened. There was a flash of light and the rumble of distant thunder, chasing away the pleasant voice as huge raindrops began to fall.

He turned and ran as fast as he could. He could feel the storm getting closer and closer behind him. The old barn loomed in front of him. He didn’t remember going inside, but he must have done, because that’s where he found himself a moment later.

He took a moment to catch his breath. The wind and rain battered on the ancient wooden planks, demanding to be let in. Behind him, there was a thud, thud, thud, like the sound of hooves approaching.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” He turned around, but it was pitch black.

Gradually, as his eyes adjusted, a dim blue light illuminated the snowy cave. Of course, it had always been a snowy cave; why had he thought it was a barn?

The white goat stood just inside the entrance. It stared through him with its unseeing eyes. “Everyone’s afraid of something,” it said, and then it turned and walked out into the blizzard, fading out of sight.

Mei awoke. The whistling wind outside drew his attention to the mouth of the cave. Standing there, framed by falling snow, was a pale white figure. Mei almost screamed before he realised who it was.

“Mei,” Mii whispered, “you wanna go for a walk while Gabu’s asleep?”

He looked around. Gabu was curled up beside him, and would likely remain that way for quite some time. “Sure, that sounds nice,” Mei whispered back as he stood up and met Mii at the cave mouth.

It was early morning. A few patches of blue sky were visible between the clouds. He tried not to look at the snowflakes falling behind Mii’s head.

“I didn’t see you at all yesterday,” Mii said. “Were you out celebrating Midwinter somewhere?”

“Gabu and I spent the day inside. How about you?”

“I was playing with Sagi and the other rabbits. Sylvia’s kits are mostly grown up now, but they’re still young enough to get excited at seeing snow for the first time. It was rather cute, actually. Do you remember when we used to play in the snow together?”

“Yes,” Mei said, trying not to do so. “Shall we go on that walk?”

As he followed Mii out into the snow, Mei found that it helped if he thought of this as just a normal walk with Mii, just like he’d done many times before, rather than a walk in the snow. In fact, he was thinking so hard about not thinking about the snow that he completely missed what Mii was saying.

“Mei?” she said.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Could you say that again?”

“I said, are you okay? You seem like you’ve got your head in the clouds.”

“I’m fine. It’s just that…it turns out I might be a little afraid of snow. I keep having weird dreams about, um, things. That’s why Gabu and I stayed inside all of yesterday.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Mii said. She smiled mischievously. “Thunder storms and snow, huh? So much for telling everyone you weren’t afraid of anything when you were a kid. Didn’t I always say that everyone’s afraid of something?”

“All right, all right,” he laughed. “You try almost freezing to death and we’ll see how much you like it after that.”

“Come on, let’s go into the forest. There’s less snow on the ground in there.”

Indeed, the snow in the forest was shallower, which made it easier for Mei to ignore. It also helped that there was more to look at than just the ground and the sky. There was a dusting of snow on the branches of every tree, most of which had been devoid of leaves for several weeks now. It gave them a dignified look.

“I got a message back from the herd,” Mii said as they walked.

“Oh, really? How’s Grandma doing?”

“She says she’s settling into her new responsibilities nicely. She’s thinking of making some changes to the way things are done, but she wants to wait until the herd has more confidence in her first.”

“Surely they don’t think she can be worse than the last Elder,” Mei said reproachfully.

“Elder Chōro was a pretty good leader in most ways,” Mii said. “In most ways,” she said again in response to Mei’s look. “And it’s not as if he was the only one of us who made that mistake. He kept the herd safe since before we were born. So yes, your grandmother has a lot to live up to.”

They were both quiet for a while, which was unusual for a conversation involving Mii. “There’s something else, isn’t there?” Mei said.

Mii hesitated. “It’s also that, having a grandson who was banished…”

Mei sighed. In recent months, his closest family and friends had all come to accept his relationship with Gabu. But he knew that the rest of the herd still thought of him as the slightly weird kid who put the herd at risk and ran away with a carnivore instead of being a normal goat.

“I’m sorry,” Mii said.

“It’s fine.”

After a while, Mii said, “Boro says the wolves are doing all right too. He’s rejoined Lala’s pack now that he knows how hard it can be to hunt on your own in the winter.”

“Are they still hunting goats?” Mei asked.

“Yes, but Boro’s doing what he can. He’s working with your grandmother to make things…better, somehow.”

“What, by only killing one goat a week by appointment?” Mei said.

“You joke, but if the wolves would normally kill more than that…”

“I know. They have to make compromises.”

“Better for most people, but not necessarily for everyone,” Mii said solemnly. “That’s the way it has to be.”

When they returned to Moonrise Hill, Gabu was awake and waiting inside.

“Good morning, Gabu,” Mei said. “Sorry, I lost track of time. We’ve been out walking.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Gabu said. “I could see from the tracks that you were together.” Indeed, the hoofprints they’d left earlier that morning had been covered only slightly by the snow that had fallen since. “You seem to be in better spirits this morning.”

“Mii’s been helping to take my mind off things,” Mei said.

Mii told Gabu about the news she’d received from over the mountain, particularly how Boro and the other wolves were getting on. “I’m glad he’s with other wolves,” Gabu said about that. The three of them spent the rest of the morning together, after which they made their way to Theatre Day.

Not many people were in attendance. Of Mei’s close friends, only Toto, Riri, Hilari, Jess, Gon, Greta and Takkan were there. Around two thirds of the choir were absent. Sagi must still be spending time with the other rabbits, Mei guessed. Janice and Frank were probably doing the same with the squirrels.

“Good afternoon,” Greta said as they arrived.

“Hello, Greta,” Gabu said, and looked around at the small gathering of animals. “I guess most people would rather celebrate Midwinter than come to Theatre Day.”

“It would appear that way,” Greta said neutrally. “Personally, I’d rather get on with things as usual. Although,” she added conscientiously, “I respect anyone’s decision to celebrate or not celebrate as they please.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Mei said.

Riri joined them. “We were talking yesterday,” she said to Greta, “about how nice it would be if everyone in the forest came together to celebrate, rather than everyone celebrating with their own species.”

Greta’s eyes lit up at this. “I have been thinking something along those lines myself. I’ll ask around after the meeting and see who else is interested.”

Takkan, who had been talking with Jess and Gon until now, strolled over to them. “Happy Midwinter, my canine and caprine companions,” he said jovially.

“Happy Midwinter,” Mii replied. “The messenger got back from Para Para Fields yesterday.”

Takkan’s ears perked. “Any word from Kuro-san?”

“He’s doing fine. The Elder’s feeling better now, thankfully. Everyone’s a lot less worried.”

“That’s good. So he’ll be back soon?”

“Well…” Mii hesitated. “You know that wasn’t the only reason he left, right?”

“Of course, of course.”

Mei felt sorry for Takkan. It wasn’t that Kuro-san hadn’t wanted to be with him; it was just that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life living away from his herd, and Takkan hadn’t wanted to leave the Emerald Forest. Kuro-san had already been thinking of going back to his herd, even before the news reached of his grandfather’s sudden illness.

Greta looked around at the gathered animals. “It looks like enough of us are here now. Let’s get started.”

They spent the practice session going over various scenes in Greta’s play. The play was about a group of young animals learning how to be themselves in a world full of expectations of them. Greta’s working title for it was Forest. Mei was playing Sandra, one of the two main characters. The other main character, Dalton, Sandra’s would-be boyfriend, was played by Sagi. Since the rabbit wasn’t here today, that limited which scenes they could practise.

Takkan was playing a side character, one of Sandra’s friends, who had a solo in one of the scenes they were practising today. The fox took centre stage as the choir prepared to sing in harmony.

“There are worse things I could do,” Takkan sang, “than go with a boy, or two.” He sat motionless, gazing thoughtfully into the sky. “Even though the neighbourhood thinks I’m trashy and no good. I suppose it could be true. But there are worse things I could do.”

“I could flirt with all the guys,” as the choir crescendoed, he began to dance, moving his body slowly and fluidly, “smile at them and bat my eyes.” He caught Mei’s eye, smiling alluringly. Mei shivered, and not from the cold. Takkan held Mei’s gaze, moving towards him. “Press against them when we dance, make them think they stand a chance,” he turned suddenly, flicking his tail, “then refuse to see it through. That’s a thing I’d never do.” Mei looked away, pretending nothing had happened.

Takkan finished the song, receiving nothing but praise from those watching. He was the only one in the theatre group who could sing a song flawlessly on the first try of the day. It probably helped that he composed at least the melody for most of them, and usually the lyrics too. There was something about him that didn’t seem compatible with making mistakes in public; Mei wondered how much time he spent practising alone to make sure that didn’t happen.

Apparently emboldened by the success of his song, Takkan began to act more like his usual self, treating life like a game that only he knew the rules to, and other people as players within it. Throughout the rest of the practice session, he had a tendency to give unsolicited directions to the other performers; Greta had to remind him repeatedly that he was no longer in charge of Theatre Day and he should focus on his own part instead of other people’s.

After the group had finished for the day, Gabu and Mei left in high spirits. Mei hesitated only slightly before walking back to their cave through the deep meadow snow.

“I suppose we have our answer to whether the groups will be happening as usual,” Gabu said.

“Yeah,” Mei said. “Hopefully, Greta will convince everyone that celebrating together will be more fun than everyone celebrating alone. Maybe we could spend Anything Day doing that?”

“That could be fun.”