The Quick Brown Fox that Jumped Over the Lazy Dog (Chapter 3)

Fox and Dog meeting the Spectral Falcon on top of the blue mountains.

The Quick Brown Fox that Jumped Over the Lazy Dog 

Chapter 3 - The Falcon’s Wisdom 

Fox and Dog froze in their tracks. The world seemed to pause along with them, the wind stilled and the very mountain seemed to hold its breath. Before them stood the Spectral Falcon, larger and more majestic than they had ever imagined or expected. Its shimmering silver feathers caught the in the moonlight, casting delicate, glowing patterns across the rocky peak. 

Dog swallowed hard, his paws rooted to the ground. “Fox… what is this? Did you expect this?” he whispered, his voice trembling with awe. 

Fox nodded, his usual quick wit and playful energy gone. “No… no… not at all. It’s… incredible, isn’t it? The energy?” 

Before Dog could say anything, the Falcon tilted its head gracefully, its gaze resting on them. Its deep golden eyes seemed to pierce through time itself, as if holding secrets of the world beyond their comprehension. However, despite the captivating gaze, there was also a lingering sorrow in its eyes. 

Then it spoke, its voice smooth and articulate. The wind seemed to halt for them to hear. “There you are. I’ve been waiting for you,” it said, its tone soft and sorrowful. Fox and Dog shifted a little, surprise coming alive in their eyes. 

“I knew one day you would make this journey,” Falcon added. 

Dog blinked, breaking the spell just enough to stammer, “You… you knew we’d come? How?” Then, they moved, drawing close to the Falcon. 

The Falcon chuckled softly, a sound like the rustling of leaves. “Some things are certain, like the rising of the moon or the whisper of the wind. Your natural curiosity and bond were destined to lead you here, someday. I know what animals say about me—how I appear here every full moon. The mysterious nature of that would draw you here and it has done, has it not?” 

Dog and Fox didn’t know what to say. They remained quiet, captivated, wanting to hear more, drawing closer in awe. There was a pause. The Falcon turned its gaze to the far horizon. 

After the pause, without turning its eyes from the horizon, it asked, “do you know why I come to this mountain?” Its voice was quieter now, tinged with sorrow and reflection. 

Fox and Dog remained silent, sitting down, their eyes wide with curiosity, waiting to hear more. There was a slight pause. Then it turned its gaze from the horizon to them. 

“I come here every full moon to mourn,” the Falcon said quietly. Their eyes widened. Falcon’s tone this time was heavy with grief. “Once, there was another beside me—a friend whose heart was as fierce as the storm and as kind as the sun.” It paused, chuckled.  

“Together,” it continued, “we soared these skies, hunted these lands and shared every joy and sorrow. We would come here every full moon to take in the beauty of the wild as we shared hearty banters.” It paused, everything was quiet, “umm… those days!” It went quiet, looking beyond them to the far horizon. 

Then it turned its gaze on them again. “This peak was ours—a sacred place. We spoke of dreams and found solace in each other’s company here.” 

The Falcon’s gaze fell, its wings trembling slightly. “But one day, my friend was gone. Taken by this very mountain we once called home.” 

Dog and Fox exchanged a glance, their hearts aching at the weight of the Falcon’s words. 

The Falcon straightened, its sorrow shifting to resolve. “Life revolves around friendship, friends. Let no one tell you otherwise. A true bond can carry you through storms, lift you above challenges and bring you joy in the darkest times. Remember this, both of you: hold fast to your bond, for it is rare and precious.” 

For a moment, there was silence. The Falcon returned its gaze to the far horizon, reflecting. Then Dog’s voice broke through, hesitant but curious. “You... you said you were waiting for us. Why? Why did you expect us to come?” 

The Falcon’s golden eyes softened as it returned its gaze to them. “I thought I had answered that question, didn’t I?” 

Dog, puzzled, replied, “Ahh…” 

“Well,” the Falcon interrupted, “it’s because I have always watched over you,” it said gently. 

They looked at each other, confused. 

“Watched over us?” Fox asked. 

“Yes,” it replied. 

“How? I’m confused,” Dog asked, perplexed. 

It cleared its throat and spoke softly. “From the moment your mothers were taken from you, my friend and I ensured you would survive. The food that appeared when you were starving, the dangers you narrowly escaped—those were not accidents. We guided you, protected you from the skies. We were there with you always.” 

Fox’s jaw dropped. “You… you’ve been watching us? All this time?” 

“Yes,” the Falcon replied, nodding its head, its eyes lighting with pride. “You were too young to understand but we saw the potential in your bond—the strength of your friendship. We knew it was worth preserving. And now, here you are, grown, together, just as we hoped.” 

It paused. “I wish my friend was here to see you. He would have been proud. Look at you.” There was another pause. 

Then Dog’s eyes shone with gratitude. “Wow!” he said as he lowered his head. “Thank you,” he said softly. “We owe you a lot.” 

The Falcon nodded. “No need to thank us. We found great meaning and pleasure in that. There is so much joy in being there to help another when needed. Never forget that. Never hesitate to help when needed.” They nodded.  

It said nothing more. Fox’s curiosity stirred and he took a cautious step forward. “What about our mothers? What… what really happened to them?” 

The Falcon’s expression darkened slightly and it looked away. “Some truths are better left buried,” it murmured almost to itself. 

“Tell us. We’ve always wondered—what happened?” Fox pressed on. 

The Falcon hesitated, its gaze fixed on the far horizon. 

“What happened? Tell us, please,” Dog begged. “All we know is we have always been together, alone. We never got to see our mothers.” 

“Did our mothers abandon us?” Fox asked. 

The Falcon turned to them quickly, its gaze sharp. “Don’t say that. Don’t!” it snapped. They recoiled a little. “Your mothers loved you. They adored you from the moment they received each of you.” 

“But why won’t you tell us?” Fox pressed. “We deserve to know!” 

The Falcon sighed, its wings spreading slightly as if to shield itself from the question. Then it spoke reflectively. “Your mothers’ story is one of hatred,” it paused, then continued, “not of love, unfortunately. Their enmity consumed them, leaving you young and alone. Let their mistakes rest in peace.” 

Dog frowned, his voice tinged with concern. “What?” 

“Yes, you wanted to know and that is the answer,” the Falcon replied. 

“Tell us more, then. How did hatred consume them?” Fox was pressing on. 

“You don’t need to know more, boys!” the Falcon said, turning its gaze from them to the far horizon. They were quiet for a while, watching the Falcon as if waiting for it to resume talking. 

Then the Falcon turned, looking at them for a moment with pity in its eyes. “Okay, I will tell you this and that is all,” it hesitated, then spoke slowly. “Their hatred for each other blinded them and one evening it led to their destruction. But let it be a lesson to you both: hatred is a fire that consumes all it touches. When faced with conflict, choose forgiveness. Never seek revenge, no matter how deeply you are wronged. That is the wisdom I offer you.” 

Dog looked down, his tail twitching. “Do you think they’d be proud of us now?” he asked quietly. 

The Falcon, turning its gaze back to them, spoke with softened words. “I do… I do. And I believe they are watching, just as I have watched, their pride growing with every step you take together.” 

A sudden glimmer of light caught Fox’s eye and he turned, squinting into the distance. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing beyond the Whispering Forest. The glimmer of light was far away, beyond the Whispering Forest. Seen from the top of the mountain in the night, it was like a circular crater of golden stars shimmering and twinkling. 

Dog followed his gaze, his ears perking up. Far away, a faint golden glow shimmered on the horizon, breaking through the night like a beacon. 

The Falcon’s tone grew sharp. “That is the human village.” 

“Human?” Dog asked, his eyes wide. 

“Yes, humans,” the Falcon replied. 

“What are humans?” Dog asked. 

“You’ve never heard of humans?” the Falcon asked. 

“No,” Dog replied. 

“Even you?” the Falcon turned to Fox. “You’ve never heard of humans?” 

“No, I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Fox replied. “What are they?” 

“Oh boys!” the Falcon exclaimed with a touch of surprise. “But you should be glad that you have not crossed paths with them, they can be dangerous.” 

“What are they? Tell us. What do you mean, they can be dangerous?” Dog asked with growing interest. 

“Humans are beings quite different from us. They live an organized life built around a community,” the Falcon explained. 

“Wow!” Dog said, his eyes widening with awe. 

“They are clever, resourceful… and dangerous,” the Falcon said gravely. 

“Dangerous? It’s the second time you’re saying they are dangerous,” Fox noted with concern. 

“Yeah! Dangerous is too big a word, isn’t it?” the Falcon paused. “Well, it depends on how you see it. They have a settlement, we have a settlement—that would seem fair, wouldn’t it?” 

“Yes,” Dog replied, intrigued. 

“You see, they build,” the Falcon continued, “they create and their creativity never stops. Their settlement keeps expanding and the more it expands, the more it grows into our own. Their establishment and cleverness threaten our being. That is what makes them dangerous. Many who wander too close to their world do not return. You must promise me, both of you, to stay far away from that village.” 

Fox nodded immediately, his expression calm. “If you say it’s dangerous, we won’t go there. We can promise that.” 

But Dog’s gaze lingered on the distant glow, his brow furrowed in thought. “Hmmn!... What makes them so different from us?” he asked, his tone reflective. 

The Falcon hesitated. “Their intelligence—it is their intelligence that makes them different. That intelligence can be both a gift and a curse. They shape the world to their will but their desires often lead to harm. Trust me—your place is here, in the wild, where you belong.” 

Dog nodded slowly but his eyes remained fixed on the light. As the Falcon finished speaking, he turned back once more, staring long and hard at the distant village, his curiosity unmistakable. 

The Falcon spread its wings, shimmering in the pale moonlight. Beyond where the skies dipped into the ground, the rays of the morning sun were starting to pierce through, the horizon turning pinkish. 

“It is time for you to go,” the Falcon said softly. “Take this.” It plucked a single silver feather from its wing, splitting it cleanly into two equal halves. It handed one half to Fox and the other to Dog. 

“This feather was shared with my dearest friend. Now it is yours—a reminder of the significance of your friendship and the bond you share. Remember, your mothers are proud of you.” 

Fox and Dog nodded, tucking their halves of the feather close to their hearts. As the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, they began their descent, side by side. 

Dog glanced back one final time at the glowing village, his thoughts lingering on its mysteries. Fox, however, walked forward, his mind filled with the Falcon’s words. 

And so, the sun rose, casting light over the mountain and the journey ahead—two friends, bound by a shared moment, walking not just down the mountain but into a future of the unknown. 

EzroniX Kids.