Mao had vastly underestimated the density of the deep woods. He’d thought himself pretty familiar with most corners of the Maple Woods by now, but the place Tobby led him was a far cry from what the fox usually raced through.

They had to leave Redlog before dawn, which surprised Mao. Tobby picked him up after a quick chat with Josei, which mostly dragged out because Mao was nursing a hangover. Nothing a quick sip of heartening brew and a good breakfast couldn’t fix, or so his mother chuckled. Mao still grumbled as he and his friend went down the many stairs of the mountain city.

A fine morning mist held the forest with pale fingers of moisture. It clung to Mao’s hair and clothes like a thin film of cold dampness. The woods smelled like morning, fresh and quiet. Birds and rodents waited eagerly for the sun to crest the horizon so they could start another lively day. Their energy and zest for life was to be envied. How fortunate they were to not know the tempting tang of a good cup of cider in good company. Mice and sparrows suffered no consequences of their own actions - or well, none related to drinking too much. A silly train of thought, but it made Mao grin.

His amusement lasted for most of the hike through the easier parts of the woods. Once the path disappeared into a thin line through dense blueberry bushes and ferns that reached above his head… that’s when he started wondering just how well he knew the Maple Woods.

During his training as a young medicine maker, Mao had often gone to the forest to collect herbs. It had been one of the earliest lessons to keep to easier terrain, even though rarities like wildersun and frogtongue were easier to come across where they could hide from other collectors. Sure one might find something rare and fine if you waded through that stream, climb through some brambles, or scale that cluster of trees, but anything you plucked you also had to carry back home, and any injuries suffered during travel may well cost you what little you earned from said findings.

There was a cruel irony in getting bit by an ornery badger while trudging through its nest hidden in a thorny brush, just to pluck a herb suitable for curing infection and stemming bleeding. Or to harvest moss good for neutralizing venoms only to get bit by a snake sunning itself among a cluster of rocks. Keep your ambition in moderation, Josei had told him, never in larger doses than common sense and safe footing.

Mao repeated those last words to himself as the pair came to a stop. They did as one should - look about for anyone that might see, then smile and let their Wild sides take over.The moment he and Tobby shed their human forms to speed through the thickest part of the woods, all the fox felt was elation. Lucid thoughts melted away to give way to silken black fur. Moss rich with dew met his paws and the air opened up like the doors to a bakery, flooding the senses with smells and tantalizing colors. The scent of the woods sang with sweet sap, musky pine, and earthy mushrooms.

Neither said a word while that first wave of freedom washed over them. They simply exchanged a look, a silent promise to keep pace with each other, then they took off and didn’t look back.

Shrubs, fallen trees long since retaken by moss and tangle vines, and ferns with prickly leaves all reached out towards them, but found no purchase on their light spring coats. To travel this bit on human foot would have been to fight every step of the way through the overgrown forest trails. Hunting teams like the one they were heading towards made their ways with axes and knives, having to cut paths for their wagons and whatever creatures pulled it. The Maple Woods would mend the damage within a week at most, impossible to tame past the very edges bordering the fields and the Farmlands.

Ever so slowly Mao started to realize just how vast these woods were. He'd thought the lighter parts were a majority to it all, but as he followed Tobby step for step, hour for hour, all at a pace that would leave anyone but a Hunter panting in a pile of sweat… he started to realize that the lighter parts were but a thin shell surrounding the true depths of the Maple woods.

Had the elves taken them this far way back then? Time had made those memories fuzzy, for all they still woke Mao up at times with old nightmares. It had been dark back then too. This place didn't feel like somewhere humans should dwell.

A worm of fear slowly wriggled its way around Mao's bones. It whispered like the elves had, too fast and with that selfish eagerness that warped every word into something sickly. Blind to anyone but themselves. Fear pointed out how the trees grew so tall that the sky disappeared, swallowed by needles of pine, then redwood, some so long that they could double as nails if only they weren't so brittle.

Fear made every step that sunk a little too deep into the moss feel like a grip closing around your ankles. It had Mao hunching low with each leap, ears struck back and hackles rising in preparation for… something.

Without really paying attention, Mao sped up. He passed Tobby so fast that the cat yelped and missed a step. Mao should have turned around to help his friend get back up, but something at the back of his head screamed at the thought of stopping for even a moment.

He felt as if a loop of fingers were closing around the back of his neck, clawed tips almost reaching his throat. Two points of pressure tugged at the fur of his forehead. A hiss like laughter nearly had him mimicking Tobby's head over heels crash into the bushes. Instead he twisted his body like a snake, found a hard surface with his hind paws- possibly a rock, and kicked.

The push off sent him hurtling through a wall of raspberry weeds and down a short slope. The laughter continued from a distance, fading as its source disappeared back into the woods.

Mao scrambled off the ground and back onto his feet. Fur stood on end and covered in patches of dry dirt, the fox looked about as graceful as a, well, a fox that had just sent itself rolling down a dusty hill. Mao blinked dumbly at the clearing in front of him. At the simple wooden cabin, the tanning racks and harnessed moose chewing lazily on a stack of cut young-trees. And at the porch holding 5 or so wide eyed hunters all staring in stunned silence at him.

Then Tobby came crashing out of the very same raspberry bushes as Mao had just come from, looking just as wide eyed and confused. The cat had taken his human form again and came to a stop right before the slope could claim another victim.

Mao slunk off at speed when laughter broke the silence. Some of the hunters doubled over while others coughed at the hilarity of the scene.

-

"Tobby my boy, if you wanted to take up hunting then I'll gladly give you some tips. First off, don't try and chase foxes until they die of fright. That poor thing looked ready to topple over."

Ernst, one of the hunters occupying this particular cabin, slapped a blushing Tobby on the back. Mao sat next to him around a worn old table, sharing tea and snacks made from nuts and oats formed into balls and bars with sticky syrup. They were quite delicious and most importantly, they let him keep quiet while Tobby suffered through the misunderstanding. Clearing it up would have meant revealing their natures as Wild Ones, which neither Tobby nor Mao would even consider for a second. So… Tobby chasing a random fox was the cover they had to go with.

"I've never seen a fox wipe out like that. They're usually so graceful."

Another round of chuckles at Mao's expense. The fox felt like sinking through his seat. Tobby weathered the friendly amusement far better.

"Why chase it in the first place though? You're a fast lad, I'll give you that, but not faster than a fox."

Sarah, a hunter with laugh lines around her mouth and crows feet near her eyes to mark years of easy smiling asked, then grew serious as she added,

"It's a good thing you didn't manage to actually grab it. Those things can bite you bad."

Tobby deflected with a self conscious chuckle. "We weren't aiming to actually catch it. It was just uh…"

Tobby shot Mao a look for help so the medicine maker quickly added,

"A friendly competition. Tobby here thought he could outrun a fox."

Tobby's red faced glare went unnoticed as Ernst gave the courier another slap on the back while the others cackled.

"Even a runner will struggle with that. Especially here in the deep woods! We barely get through with axes, even without needing to get the wagon through at that."

"Well… Mao insisted. It was actually his idea." Tobby responded while not quite meeting Mao’s eyes.

Mao glared at Tobby for that but quickly set his face to a polite smile as attention shifted back to himself. The hunters either didn't notice or just didn't care. It was silly youth in their eyes, the bravado that led to mostly harmless shenanigans. And plenty of things to cackle about.

They would have gotten snacks and tea either way as thanks for making the tricky delivery, so their stay only dragged out for a little bit longer to humor their amusement.

Once everyone had had their fun and the boys felt ready to get moving again, Ernst took Tobby aside to give a quick glance to the receipt showing that House Lilja had sent what they owed for this purchase and delivery to the hunters' families. Coin wasn't something they needed out here in the woods, especially not when their wagon would be heavy with pelts and meat on their way back to Redlog.

Meanwhile, Mao followed Sarah out to pick up the delivery in question. A rather small stag - a roe deer - covered up in a tarp bound with rope waited in a shaded room at the back of the cabin. It was far colder in there than in the rest of the cabin. The reason for that made Mao's nose crinkle slightly. The hunters processed their kills in there to keep the meat out of the sun and away from opportunistic bugs and scavengers. Anything they caught was bled then taken apart. Bones were cleaned, meat packed in salt or pickled, and hides went through its own long process.

Now Mao was no stranger to blood and unpleasant smells. One couldn’t be too squeamish when making medicine and treating injury on a daily basis. No, it was the smell of blood combined with the strong scent of concentrated herb mixtures. Sarah briefly explained that the smell came from the various tonics they treated the hides with to remove flesh scraps, prevent mold, and soften the leather up, and so on.

The smells stung his nose enough to distract, but luckily hauling something heavy didn’t take a lot of thinking. Tobby appeared a moment later and with the hunters’ help they carried the wrapped stag outside.

While the stag was smaller than Mao had thought it would be, not much larger than a person, it still weighed a fair deal. Together Mao and Tobby used the ropes already wrapped around the tarp to hang it off a long beam of wood, then shouldered the weight between them. Mao’s only complaint would be how the beam dug into his shoulder, but with it balanced between two people the weight wasn’t too bad.

Getting it through the deep woods would be a bit of a challenge, but one look at Tobby told Mao just how determined his friend was to see this stag all the way to House Lilja. There would be no turning back now or his lovestruck friend might just try to drag the corpse all the way alone.

The hunters waved them off as they got going, some smiling ruefully at what they considered a lot of effort for a dubious reward. Like Mao, they knew their customers and what their sold goods often ended up being used for. Was dragging a corpse through the deep woods worth it? What did they gain, a bit of coin? All for a bit of ceremony.

What Mao didn’t know was what risk you tempted when escorting the dead through the deep woods, even if it was just some game meat.

-

“Couldn’t they just wait for some murklily to sprout naturally? Leave a window open and the seeds will find their way in eventually.” Mao tried to sound casual but the tension of his exhausted muscles made his teeth clench around the words.

They had been walking for what felt like hours by now, both covered in sweat from lugging the heavy corpse. With the redwoods standing tall and tight in every direction, even telling what time it was had become near impossible. Mao only knew that it was still daytime, or the woods would have turned from their shaded greens to a blanket of grey.

Tobby grimaced ahead of him. The courier was in the front since he knew the way better, and while Mao couldn’t really see his face, the sound Tobby made was more than enough to imagine his expression.

“I didn’t say they needed this for murklily.” Tobby paused. He threw a confused knit of the brows back at Mao. “How would you know that anyways? Did Joseph snoop?”

Mao snorted. “I’m a medicine maker. There’s venison and other game meat in the cookery and restaurants. The reasons to need a fresh corpse aren’t that many.”

That made Tobby relax enough to look forwards again. He nearly tripped over a tall root as he did so and stumbled with a hiss. Mao bit back an oath as he nearly dragged them both down due to the wooden beam held between them.

“Besides,” he added, “It’s their family crest. They always show off Murklilies when they do something formal.”

Tobby kept silent, likely pursing his lips in thought about how to take the topic elsewhere. So Mao hit him with a low blow.

“You’re not getting married are you? That’s moving way too fast, Tobby, even for a noble lady.”

This time Tobby actually tripped over his own feet, but the bruises and scrapes as the sudden lack of balance and the weight of the deer threw them on the ground was well worth the courier’s flustered spluttering.

“We’re not- that’s-” Tobby’s sudden panic faded when he saw the fox wheezing with laughter. “Mao you bully.”

Mao cackled as Tobby threw him a light kick past the side of the deer. It’d landed on them both, pinning one of Mao’s legs and Tobby’s shoulder. A brief armistice reigned while they climbed back to their feet, then Tobby’s secrecy finally caved.

“It’s for an important guest alright. Just- don’t tell Joseph. He’ll go full spy mode on this and I’ll actually get into trouble if he figures it out. The Liljas are responsible for keeping this under wraps until they’ve arrived.”

Important guests? Redlog lay at the north-western edge of the kingdom, at least as far as Mao could remember from the maps he’d looked at. A guest would be someone not local to the area, unless they were from any of the farmlands outside of the Maple Woods. Mao doubted that the Lilja family would make such a fuss over a farmer coming for a visit though, so that meant they’d come from even further away.

From the south? There were harbor cities in that direction if you went far enough, which meant the guest could be from across the sea. Or maybe from the south-east, towards the kingdom’s heart and towns not made remote and cut off from the world by forests as ancient as the Maple Woods. Or perhaps even from the North where the land was divided by mountains and great lakes, all shielding distant lands neighboring the kingdom.

Mao’s head swam with ideas and excitement, enough to give him a second wind.

“When are they coming?”

Tobby’s look of hurt confidence made Mao reel his giddiness in a bit.

“I already told you way too much.” The ginger sulked.

“I’ll keep quiet until they’re here, promise. So for how long am I distracting Joseph from digging into this?”

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

Their shared friend was no doubt eager to poke his oh so professional spies and information network. Or in more realistic words: follow the Watch around in the hopes of catching something interesting. Convincing the bookkeepers to let him see reports and notes, maybe even comb through Robina Ek’s office for tidbits of information meant only for the captain of the Watch. That had gotten him into trouble before. A week of house arrest, which he took in stride, and the far more soul crushing punishment of not getting to apply for a spot as Robina’s secretary.

The only reason the captain tolerated him at this point was because the starstruck noble sometimes actually did find something useful. He had a generous monthly allowance thanks to his family’s richness and spent a fair share of it on bribing runners, tourists, and bemused tavern keepers for interesting gossip.

He had to be careful with the runners as they had rules about privacy, but as long as the gossip he bought wasn’t related to actual deliveries, things tended to work out fine. The younger runners loved pretending to be spies on secret missions, even if the information they traded in the most were mostly public knowledge.

Who had a good harvest, did that sweets shop have a sale, were those two really having an affair or was the husband in on it too, are the stables stocking up because of cheaper feed or is there a caravan coming in soon, and more.

Useful stuff sure, but sometimes Mao wondered if Joseph just slipped his ‘informants’ coin to make the game seem more real.

Either way, Joseph would be digging into why the Liljas wanted a fresh corpse as soon as he woke up today… which would be some time past noon or even later. Hangovers hit Joseph so hard that those that didn’t know him might think he’d been poisoned. He also got to sleep in as long as his family didn’t need him for something important. As someone who often rose at dawn or just slightly past it, Mao felt mystified by Joseph’s sleeping patterns.

Tobby seemed to realize what having a nosy friend meant around the same time Mao noticed that the bagged deer may be leaking. There was a small trail of… something going down the side of the tarp, leaking from a hole that was…

“Wilds take me, I forgot about Joseph. He wouldn’t-... no he definitely would. He’s far too curious and if it’s a fellow noble house being up to something- damn…”

Tobby grumbled while Mao frowned and leaned forwards to eye the hole in the side of the tarp. It was fraying at the edges, slowly growing bigger. As if something was pulling at the strings to-

A tiny face turned to glare at him. It looked human enough at first, but the eyes were beady and dark, the pupils square and horizontal. It had tapered ears and a hat made from the cap of an acorn. It spat something and hit Mao in the eye with drool that stung.

Tobby yelped as Mao jerked back, hissing a pained cry while slapping a hand over his eye. The little person hanging off the side of the tarp let out a sharp bark of laughter as the deer hit the ground. Neither Mao nor Tobby had any time to react before more of them appeared.

They varied in sizes greatly, some being as small as the tip of one finger, others as large as cats. Some hung from the sides of trees, perched on branches, or squatted in the hills of moss and quivering ferns. They came out of nowhere, literally.

It was as if the forest was empty one moment, then the two young men blinked and were surrounded.

Tobby’s low hiss showed Mao a grimace of panic and irritation, a single word before the tiny folks cut it off with yells of their own.

“Vättar-”

The one that had been on the tarp hopped off, landed in a blur that somehow turned its stature of a hand’s length to a creature that could reach Mao’s knees if he’d been standing. Sharp teeth grinned at him as the vätte shouted.

“Found! Noticed! Spotted and caught!”

The others jeered similar phrases, though Mao wasn’t entirely sure if they meant him and Tobby or themselves. More concerningly yet; there was a hint of accusation to their tones despite the wide grins.

“What’s a fox and a cat doing this far into our forest?”

“Why are they carrying a meal far greater than themselves?”

“Summer is early but not here yet! They would dare eat this good before the midsummer feast?”

“Did they kill it? A cat and a fox taking down a deer? I bet they stole it!”

A barrage of questions, none of which Mao was sure if he should even try to answer. Tobby’s hair was standing on end and he looked unnerved. The feeling was contagious.

Without any sign or signal the vättars' faces split into sharp toothed grins. There was nothing friendly in the way they showed their rows and rows of triangular teeth.

"Greedy animals must pay toll to pass."

"A willing one!"

"Or danger as price."

"A toll, a toll!"

Eager chants picked up one yell after another. A trio of vättar approached the tarp covered stag and grabbed at it. Tobby let go of the package as if burned by it. Yet seeing the vättar try to drag their delivery away made something snap in Mao’s head. They were trying to steal from them, were they? He wouldn't have that.

With a stomp and a sweep of his arm that hit nothing but air, yet still made one vätte fall over in surprise, the fox snarled.

"Hey! Let go of that!"

Tobby tried to croak something, probably to tell him to stop. The Hunters' guild had warned Mao too about the danger of the small folk. Yet these ones didn't look worthy of that kind of fear. They were no elves. Mao had a prickling suspicion that his mad dash through the woods earlier had been their doing somehow. His temper was turning into a burning pit of indignation.

"The toll!" one yelled behind him, sounding equally indignant about this- this theft not going their way. Mao spun and snarled at it, baring his teeth with a growl that shook through his chest.

"Toll? What toll. We're just passing through. This deer is a gift for someone else. You can't have it."

That felt suitably diplomatic. If they ignored him he would start punting the little bastards. Even the tallest ones didn't reach past his waist.

A chatter went through the crowd of small folks. They had Mao and Tobby surrounded and were starting to look pissed. Grimaces varying from pure rage to venomous irritation flashed teeth and the far whites of the eye at Mao and Tobby both. Yet they didn't go for the corpse again.

"Then we'll have the living one!"

"Have the cat! Frightened thing can chase our rats."

"Take his fur! Bright and orange!"

"Demand his teeth, coated in venom!"

Mao did not like how their attention switched over to Tobby. Were they only going for those that didn't resist? That thought made the hair on his arms rise in anger. A writhing urge to snap and taunt coiled in Mao’s belly. It made his teeth ache with a need to snap. It- had him far more riled up than he should be over this.

Some of the vättar closest to himself made disappointed faces as Mao straightened himself and took a deep breath. Yes, something about this wasn't right. They had a hold of his emotions somehow. What could he do though?

A vätte reached out for Tobby. The ginger man sat frozen in fear, curling in on himself like his true body would if he let his human shape go. He looked one touch away from doing so, and that felt like something they should avoid. If Tobby broke and ran, they would stand no chance against the vättar’s tricks.

It was probably a stupid thing to do, but Mao rushed them. He swiped at the one closest to Tobby, expecting to fist his hand around rough cloth or matted hair. Instead he felt a sharp sting as a bloody outline of teeth blossomed around the meat of his thumb. The offended vätte hopped backwards with a trilling hiss that made Mao's skin cover with goosebumps. As if warning him not to try that again, his fresh wound began to itch.

Alright, don't touch them. They still recoiled when he spun and snarled at them though. Some at the back of the circle even snickered at his antics. He felt as if they were playing with him. Another spike of bubbling rage tried to loop itself around his chest, but Mao did his best to ignore it. Think.

"What do you want?" He asked. The vättar laughed, hissed, and made fists to shake at him.

"A toll!"

"We ain't paying you anything." Mao cut them off before they could spiral into another chanting frenzy of demands. He got snarls and hisses in return.

"Why do you want a toll?" Distract them. Keep them talking to let himself think.

They answered all at once, making all but a few sentences blend together into unintelligible gibberish.

"Entertainment!"

"I just want things."

"You trespass!"

One of those he could deal with better than the others. Mao spun to face the one that claimed boredom and pointed. The vätte in question, a squat little woman the size of a cat, jerked as the attention of her peers swung towards her. She wore a dress of squirrel fur and boots made from bark. Mao kept going before she could say anything smart.

"Let's play a game. A challenge. That's entertaining, yes? A suitable toll."

And games had rules. He could best them at a game. Best them and come out on top. Adrenaline made the back of his neck tingle. He felt excitement replace his earlier frustration. The same change swept through the crowd of vättar like a physical thing. Toothy grins turned wider with glee rather than hostility. The squirrel vätte made a face as she thought, but after a few jeers and shouts of approval from her friends, she ended up nodding. But as if to not be outdone by Mao’s bravado, she made a demand of her own.

"Race us! We'll leave you in the ferns before you can blink!"

They likely could. Mao hadn't even seen the other vätte bite him, only felt the impact and saw the wound it left behind. He didn't like to think what would happen if he lost, but A bold idea whispered at the back of his skull.

"Just me? You'll have to wait until we've dropped off the stag then and that'll be awhile."

Instant grimaces of disagreement, but Mao went on before they could start yelling.

"We can't break that promise, but we could make it a race. Me and some of you against your strongest and Tobby. Get the stag to the edge of the woods before I reach it."

Mao's nerves sang as he waited for their combined reaction. Some chewed it over with tilted heads. Others wore sour expressions, disapproving. Squirrel dress looked dubious.

"You're faster than someone carrying a corpse." She objected.

Mao's grin made her frown.

"You're saying I would win easily?"

That did it. Whatever the vättar thought about him, it wasn't flattering. They made that utterly clear by accepting the challenge at once.

A wedge formed in the circle of vättar, then a firm divide. Tobby jolted as a brawny vätte began poking at him, grunting and gesturing for him to get up. They were an impatient lot.

Mao's jaw dropped as a wagon made from a hollowed out tree trunk appeared out of the bushes. It shouldn't have been able to roll through the dense foliage-

The fox froze as a bright yellow bird foot stepped out of the bushes, quickly followed by another one. The wagon walked with a bit of a waddle yet somehow the body itself didn't so much as tilt.

Tobby made a choking wheeze of a sound to protest as the same brawny vätte pulled him and the tarp covered stag up onto the wagon. Apparently they didn't trust him to keep pace and they were taking this race… rather seriously.

Whatever doubtful thoughts were starting to form in Mao's mind at that point cut off with a yelp and a hiss as a weight hit the back of his neck. The sudden weight threw his balance enough to throw him face first towards the ground. He caught himself with a grunt, feeling soft moss meet his paws. Why did he transform-

A small hand grabbed his ear and tugged. The sudden movement sent a waft of tanned fur and old squirrel musk rolling past his snout. The bored vätte hissed with a mix of eagerness and stress in his ear.

"I'll be on your side, fox, so best run your fastest."

Mao could only nod dumbly at the squirrel dressed woman as more vättar took up positions around him. They were going already? The sudden transformation had his thoughts in a kind of slowly clearing fog. He felt the emotions around him more than he could smell them. Jittery excitement and determination. They tugged at him like insistent whims, urging him to feel the same. It was harder to resist their strong emotions as a fox than as a human.

He almost didn't want to resist. Here was a chance to compete against the small folk themselves, to prove that despite what the Hunters claimed, he had what it took to go toe to toe with the Wilds’ most cunning.

Such distracting thoughts nearly had him tripping when the vätte on his back tugged at his ears. The start of the race hit Mao like a blast of wind throwing him off a cliff. Somewhere to his right Tobby let out a yowl that quickly disappeared beneath the sound of creaking wood.

Mao found his paws with a scramble of a movement, claws digging into the moss for purchase to push him forwards. The weight of the vätte on his back steadied him, acting as a guide. A raised root hidden by tall grass would have snagged his legs if the small woman hadn't thrown her weight to the left so hard that Mao nearly hit the ground sideways. Instead his tail spun for any trace of balance, found it, and with a harsh kick to right himself, he sped off.

A strong grip on the fur on top of his head urged him forwards.

"Faster, FASTER, FASTER!"

It was a hum in the air, like bees chanting a single command. Faster. So Mao ran.

The forest came alive with movement all around. Vättar riding birds, frightened rodents, and even a confused moose ran full tilt behind the fox and to his sides. Some sped past him so he dug his claws in and pushed.

The air both tore at his lungs and burned them so sweetly. It was a constant whipping of speed against his whiskers. The squirrel vätte dug her heels into his shoulder blades and yelled for him to "run, RUN damn you! We're not losing to this bunch!"

She tried to steer him through the dense foliage, either with tugs on his fur or by leaning to the sides. Mao obliged her when the path felt safe and as a result felt the world melt into a blur. His lungs burned but his blood sang.

Yet some of the more daring leaps he outright refused to even try. He didn't trust this creature not to break his bones with a bad leap just to go a little faster. Squirrel-dress blasted her surroundings with the urge to go faster, to win, to hold nothing back at all. Her emotions were a physical whirlwind that swept you up and refused to put you back down.

The moose from before fell with a crash Mao could only hear, not see, yet the scream it let out told him that bones had been snapped. The horde of racing animals and small folk didn't allow for slowing down, and some paid a dear cost for that. Those that fell were left behind.

Yet it was only the animals that fell, never the small folk themselves. No hidden roots, grasping branches, or tangled ferns could stop their stride. Only interference from their fellow folks.

Squirrel-dress gave his ear a sharp enough tug to make Mao snap his teeth to the side in pain. His teeth graced rough linen and skin and sent another vätte screaming to the ground. The one on his back howled with laughter as her competitor disappeared into the underbrush, and a roar of cackles answered her from all around. Seeing their kin fall called for great amusement, rather than concern or guilt. Mao felt not a single sliver of fear for their well being among the frenzied small folk.

Not that there was much time to spend worrying for others. Every step felt like a gamble. Every time his paws met steady soil rather than a slippery leaf or a branch at a bad angle, a miracle. Between the tiny hands pulling at his fur like a sailor draws the sails of a ship to guide it through a storm, the burning wheeze of his lungs demanding more air than they could fit in a single breath, and the screaming, tearing, exhilaration of the moment, Mao had no time to hesitate, let alone to stop.

So when the world of towering trees and budding branches abruptly gave way, throwing fox and moose and boar and squirrels out into a field, all Mao had the mind to react with was a surprised flash of deja vu.

The wagon came seconds later. If the stampede of winded animals had startled the few farmers and farm hands tending this field already, then the tree shooting out of the woods like a ballista bolt made a few of them faint.

Or duck.

It was a miracle that no one got hurt.

Mao found himself about as spry as a wet piece of paper laying on the ground after that rush. So when an orange cat with fur risen so high that you could tell neither leg from tail nor head from belly, came stumbling off the log halfways buried into the ground and shakily hopped down… Mao stayed put. They would have to scrape him off the ground if they wanted him back on his feet. He vowed right then and there to sleep for at least a day after this. Maybe even two. Perhaps a week if Josei would allow it.

Mao's plan to pretend the ground was a bed were sadly interrupted by the confused farmer hesitantly approaching the 'wagon' - which now lacked for chicken feet or wheels or anything else marking it as a means of transportation. The vättar too were notably missing from the scene, a fact that slowly dawned upon the fox along with the realization that...

He’d won. He’d challenged the small folk to a race and won.

Tobby looked ready to tear a face off if anyone went to pick him up, all stressed hissing and puffy fur.

A girl wearing overalls that had seen at least knee high levels of mud was making the overconfident mistake of thinking that she could soothe the orange cat with cooing and a slow approach. She would get into trouble if no one stopped her soon, so Mao wheezed, grunted, and rose with wobbly legs. Most of the attention laid on the tree and cat, or the larger animals currently trying to figure out why they weren’t surrounded by giant trees.

Most had risen and taken off after catching enough breath to stand, but a moose with a glassy stare and trembling legs stayed put as Mao slunk behind it to shift form.

Looking in no better shape than the winded wildlife, Mao raised a hand to wave at the confused farmer. This would take a lot of explaining…