Teàrlach stood on the hill, his fingers pressed snugly into his palm in a fist so tight that not even the wind could penetrate. His body shook from head to toe as he stared at the small marker at his feet, the grave still fresh in front of the small wooden cross. The fox shut his eyes tightly as his nose flared open and closed in deep pained breaths. Tears gently began to trickle from his corner of his eyes, each drop tracing a dark streak through the orange fur around the sockets before crawling down the deep cherry red of his cheeks. Teàrlach wanted to cry, oh by heaven, he wanted to fall down on his knees and weep until there were no tears left. But he couldn’t do that, he didn’t want to show weakness even as the memories of his beloved Siubhan raced through his mind.
He remembered the first time he’d met the rabbit he was going to marry; they’d been mere children frolicking in the woods, beaches, and fields dotting the rolling hills of the borderlands between England and Scotland. They’d chase each other for hours on end, laughing and giggling as the scenery seemed to fly by.
As they had gotten older, he’d found Siubhan growing more and more irresistible; her lovely light brown fur, small cotton ball tail, long slender ears, soft warm breasts, wide hips, round belly, and those almond colored eyes that he could always get lost in. And indeed, he had gotten lost in them. They surrendered themselves to each other for the first time that one warm spring day in the forest; bodies pressed to one another in the greatest intimacy upon a bed made of their tartans.
Of course a first time demanded a second. A second demanded a third. A third demanded a fourth, and on and on until the two could not see themselves sans the other. So they married.
Everything was perfect for them. Teàrlach and Siubhan did all manner of chores together, from plowing and planting the fields to feeding and eventually slaughtering the livestock. And when the chores were done and the food was eaten, their nights were filled with passion.
But Siubhan fell ill. Teàrlach stayed by her side day and night, taking care of her every need as she slowly began to fade away. The fox had held his doe in his arms as her light had finally flickered out. Her last words to him were, “I love you.”
The memories began to subside. Teàrlach’s knees began to shake, and his legs folded under him. The fox felt himself drop down, collapsing onto the ground as his hands uncurling. His fingers and paw pads pressed into the freshly covered grave, making indentations in the dirt. The fox hung his head and cried. The tears flowed freely in long streams as the drops sprinkled onto the grave.
He cried and cried and cried until he couldn’t do so anymore. And when he ran out of tears, Teàrlach sat back onto his knees, tilted his head to the sky, and let out a moaning howl to the clouds above him. But the clouds were silent as they gazed down at him, content to continue their journey to the east.
With Siubhan gone, Teàrlach felt no connection the land they had tilled, the house they had occupied, nor the livestock still wandering the field. The livestock were the first to go, they were easily sold to the other farmers who lived around him. The field and the house were another story. Yes, he could sell them, but there was another option, one that he liked more.
After the fox gathered his sword and slid his coin purse into the folds of his tartan, he lit the house ablaze. Teàrlach watched as the fire danced and leaped around, grabbing and groping about the place he had once called home. Deep down, he knew that now he could never return as his gazed fixated on the blaze before him.
It fed on every piece of thatch. It tore at the wooden walls. It ignored anything that would not burn, and consuming everything that would. The glowing red, orange, and yellow organism began to grope towards the sky, almost begging for God to send it more food.
Slowly, Teàrlach pulled his gaze away from the sight, eyes focusing on the field before him. The fox looked at the torch, the fire on its head flickering around, begging for its next meal. His eyes moved from the instrument of destruction to the fields and back again, contemplating in his mind if what he wanted to do next was in his best interest. Like many fields, there was a rock wall, but some of the borders were divided by thickets and woods, things that would easily burn. If he lit his field, it would certainly spread to his neighbors. The fox closed his eyes, chest rising up and down for a long deep breath, before he threw the torch down into the dirt. There would be no more suffering today.
The fire glared up at Teàrlach. It flickered and danced around, almost cursing him for his betrayal for not giving it more to consume. The fox ignored it, however, his face gazing off into the distance. He placed one foot in front of the other as he began his journey.
