Nyles
Legacy Name: Nyles

After a few short moments, with a strange clang, something dropped in front of those unmoving legs. It was the source of that fiery light. With not a sound, nor explanation, those paws pattered off and I never saw them again. I bounced up, tripped and fell, and bounded forward again. Mother caught me by the tail, a soft hum reminding me of danger she was sure had not left yet. So I sat, transfixed on that strange warm light that melted the white cold around it.

It was her grumbling stomach that finally pushed her to move. The light blocked our entrance, but not so that she couldn’t squeeze passed it. She moved to kick it out of the way, but as soon as a dark paw touched the material containing it, she pulled away with a yelp. I padded closer, but she yipped, bidding I stay. So stay I did.

She returned many hours later, brown muzzle dark with blood and belly round with dinner. I finally left my spot to lay by her curled, content form to have my own meal. As I slept, I dreamed of falling stars, catching them on my tongue like snowflakes.

Days later, the light still at our hearth, Mother left again. She was gone longer this time, but I wasn’t worried. She would return. While I waited, I approached the light for the first time in those days. It hadn’t hurt us again since mother touched it, and in fact, kept us quite warm on the cold nights. I found myself looking at this light more than I did much of anything else. I had grown already, eye level with the flame now. Maybe someday, my paws would be as big as those I’d seen before. Bigger even than mother’s.

I did grow. By the light of that glow in our doorway, I grew from kit to fox, ready to take on the world. My mother and I parted ways, and I left that den to find my own way, leaving the light behind. The forest we lived in was vast, and I plotted nearly all of it, from the rocky wall to the west, to the ocean cliffs in the east. There was a strange, wide path in this forest, that cut it in two. I grew very familiar with it, and could always find my way back to it. This path was my first landmark.

Sometimes, humans used this path. I spotted them for the first time in my second spring. It was early in the day, and they were a large group with horses and happy dogs. From my perch on a nearby fallen tree, I watched them go. They passed through before the sun crossed the sky. I always feel drawn to see them when I hear someone speaking humantongue on that path. I never stay long, but I come back to look once or twice before I’ve made sure they’re gone. It was something I thought all of my kind did. But I never saw another who watched.

It was a beautiful, crisp fall morning when my routine changed. I was hunting by the south pond when I caught a whiff of danger. Something strange and unfamiliar tinged the air. My ears caught twigs breaking, and then, a chorus of barking. I knew the sounds of dogs, but never like this. This sound struck fear into the core of my being, and I found it took me a moment to force myself to move.

I knew this forest. It was my home, my world, and I knew every tree and rock. I ran until I thought I might collapse, yet still the dogs pursued me. I ran, lungs burning and legs tangling, stumbling more and more. And then, ahead, I saw that glow. That glow I knew, that kept me warm, that watched me grow. If I could fit in that den again, the dogs would be warded off by its heat.

I didn’t make it that far. One fatal misstep and I tumbled, rolling forward in a heap. My legs didn’t obey me, and I could not stand. I heard the frenzied barks and wild steps of the dogs come closer, and stop. They faded into silence as though they had never been. When I unscrewed my eyes to look before me, I saw my light. And two black pillars between it, and me. My vision blurred, and the world drifted away.

There was snow in my fur when I woke, I could feel it. I opened my eyes, but, to my utter confusion, the world stayed stubbornly black. I blinked again and again, but nothing changed. It took every scrap of my effort to push my feet beneath me and stand, though I nearly fell again when the world swayed beneath me. I sniffed around, and ever so faintly, smelled my mother. Our den, it was here. I limped toward it, and nearly tripped over something warm. My light. Of course. My light.

The handle on top was the perfect height for me to pick it up with my jaws. I carried it away, to keep it with me always. My body was lighter now, the pain easing away with the time. The world was dark forever, but my forest was mapped in memory, lit by the lantern I carried with me. My footsteps were sure, and I was not afraid.

I wandered for a while, not really going anywhere. I could not hunt without abandoning my light, and so I did not. My stomach did not protest. After many days and nights, I found myself on the solid, flat dirt of that human path. My ears, more sensitive than ever, picked up a soft, irregular sound some distance away. I followed it, drawn like a moth. When I approached it, it coalesced into a string of frustrated sounds from a human mouth. When it ceased, I turned, headed back from where I came.

His heavy footsteps followed as I led him to that path again.