Feer

Autumn - Dew

The small soul slowly shivers itself to wake up with solemn and slow moves, she raises her head, slowly rising up, careful not to hit the ceiling and crawls out from over the warm fireplace.

As she drops down, the silence stays unbroken. Her gentle paws take her slowly outside the small abode, only a creaking door bears witness to her soft steps. Her antlers, now slightly wider and ever more so beautiful, come close to hitting the door frame.

The old man still sleeps unturned... there are signs someone was inside, the rugs bear witness to many. There are signs time passed, yet the fox felt nothing. The door is now creaking, the table is chipped, the chairs are even more embellished with small carvings and many new dolls and figurines line the shelves where the old ones resided. A small one sits on the doorstep.

She drops down to look at this bauble, it seems familiar somehow, the shape, the carvings... she lays down.

"Such care, truly!", she mutters as her eyes scan the modest chunk of wood. "I like it...", she continues looking even closer. 

The small figurine depicts a sleek animal, a mix of a canine by size and a feline by grace. "I wonder who...", she makes a last comment before leaving... 

Once tarry , the shy rays of the sun light the large yard. As she traverses the cobbled path, small shrubs and flowers seem to have sprouted almost and line the bends. 

The whole village seems to bustle more than usual, even at the small hours. She looks around and people pass by unaffected, is she really invisible to everyone as the old man said? 

She makes her way closer to the hearth, a sudden thought. 
"What if I", she wonders as she moves to block the path of a young man. The man shows no signs of stopping and walks straight into the fox, she shivers as the man passes right through her...
"Not expected, yet", she whispers content with the result.

Small wagons and stalls line the village square as people try setting up produce and crafts, the young man from before walks in the middle of the square and starts shouting with unexpected might. The slender body and kempt beard betrays the thundering voice of a forester.

"Hear ye, hear ye, kit and kin alike! The harvest festival starts in a couple hours! Don your best shirt or dress, bring your workmanship and thank your body and mind for another year of work.", his voice gets slightly quieter as he runs out of breath. With a solemn pause he quickly sets down on a nearby chair and starts writing.

She looks at him and whilst curious continues to walk around the empty square and check on other stalls, she stops to the largest one for a gander. A small woman, yet by no means dainty lifts a sack of flour over a great cauldron behind the empty table. She seems to be making dough for bread.