Monday Mythic Storytime: The Fox and the Found


Ah, you wish to hear a tale of the wily fox, do you? A creature of cunning and guile, who outwits all those who dare to cross its path? Very well, I shall tell it to you.

There was once a group of travelers who found themselves lost in the dense, dark forest on a cold, cold night. The winds howled through the trees, and the air was so icy that they could barely move their fingers. They huddled together for warmth, praying for some sign of rescue.

But rescue did not come. Instead, they came across a strange, a fortune teller of Romani descent. She was clad in flowing robes of shimmering silk, her long hair adorned with intricate braids and beads. The travelers begged her for help, and she agreed to guide them out of the forest, for a price.

As they journeyed deeper into the woods, the Romani told them of the fox who roamed these lands. She said that the fox was a creature of the crossroads, a demon who delighted in leading people astray. It was said that the fox would guide the lost souls of the forest to their doom, luring them into the darkness and then abandoning them to their fate.

The travelers shuddered with fear, but they knew they had no choice. They had to follow the fox, or risk freezing to death in the cold, dark forest.

And so, they set out after the fox, their teeth chattering and their noses red with cold. They followed it through the underbrush, over streams and through brambles, never once stopping to rest.

As the night grew longer, the travelers began to lose hope. They were cold, hungry and exhausted, and they knew they could not go on much longer. Just when they thought they could take no more, they saw a faint light in the distance.

They hurried towards it, stumbling over roots and rocks, and emerged from the forest into a clearing. There, they saw the fox waiting for them, its glowing eyes fixed upon them. The travelers gasped, thinking they were doomed.

But the fox was not the demon they had feared. Instead, it was a kind and noble creature, who had been leading them to the afterworld all along. The gypsy woman, it seemed, had been lost herself, and the fox had been guiding her through the forest, just as it had guided the travelers.

And so, the travelers found their final rest, their souls passing through the liminal space and into the great beyond. They learned that sometimes, the things we fear the most can turn out to be our greatest allies, and that the road to the afterworld is often winding and treacherous.”


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