One Hundred Years of Solitude

- one -

        She yanked again at the jute rope fastened to her hind legs. It was now cutting into her flesh. The rope had glass shards and blades woven into its fiber. Her heart thudded in her ear as the crunching of boots and the rustling of leaves grew louder and closer. Desperately, she bit into the rope, and it cut her lips. She felt numb, less from the wounds and more from fear of the shadows now emerging from behind the trees and bushes.

"Why, it's a fox," said one of the men surrounding her.

A light was held up to her face.

She winced and jerked her head away.

"And what a beautiful fox," said another.

She hopelessly tugged at the rope even as a tear rolled down her face. She thought of her home in the heart of the forest: she should have never left it.

Oh, save me, goddesses, she pleaded silently.

"That pelt would be worth a fortune."

Those words seared into her. Gathering the courage, she turned to look at the people who would take her skin and exchange them for rice and meat.

They were hardly men yet; boys of about fifteen or sixteen years of age. And there were about six or seven of them.

She took in each face, their eyes gleaming and their smiles leering.

But then, her eyes stopped at one of them. He looked younger than the rest and his eyes were not greedily admiring her coat nor grinning at her misery. Instead, he was looking into her eyes.

The boy's eyes lingered on the tear droplet, glimmering silver against her fur, in the light of the torch. She looked back, hoping he would understand her pain.

"Let her go," he said suddenly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Are you crazy?" snapped the one holding the torch.

"Pffft what does Jung Kook know. He's still a dumb newborn baby," said another. "Quick, pass me the knife."

Her heat beat with trepidation, the metallic taste of blood now rushing to her head.

And then she saw the boy called Jung Kook lunged forward with a knife. Before any of the other boys could react, he had chopped off the jute rope that bounded her to the tree with one swift cut.

Giving the rope a final tug, she sprinted away into the forest, her injured leg suddenly gaining a new burst of energy. She heard yelling and scuffles behind her that carried far into the forest as she ran and ran. She did not look back nor paused to even take a breath until she could hear them no more.

At the heart of the forest, the creatures of Earth roamed freely, unfettered by fear of the human ways. Here, magic and stories of the old were allowed to just be. Stopping by the healing spring of the goddess Jisoo, she finally collapsed onto the soft moss and allowed herself to catch a breath.

Then, her hind limbs lengthened and curved into shapely human legs, her fore limbs stretched into slender human arms, her red coat were pulled back at its root, revealing soft, white human flesh and her red mane lengthened into a long, red tress that lay spread on the green moss.

Chae Young staggered to her feet and slowly stepped into the healing water.

***

The summer Jung Kook turned sixteen, a drought plagued the village. The wells were empty and the fields bore no crops. People exchanged family heirlooms for a bowl of rice at the nearby town. Jung Kook also tied a rope around their old cow and took her to town. He stood in a corner the whole day but no passerby spared him or his lean cow a glance.