He was quite peculiar.
Without a doubt, he had been born as a bear, but as time went on and he got older, he discovered a certain aptitude he possessed; he was able to change into a fox. Granted, his fur was not as red as those who were born foxes. His fur was, brown, darker—the same as in his bear form.
Obviously, he used this gift to mingle and socialize between the two groups. He felt well in both. He enjoyed the honey the bears gathered, and did not mind the weekly raids on the farmer’s chicken coop. But besides that, the two groups were rather similar. Both enjoy the darkness and cold of muddy caves, the succulent taste of raw meat, and the freedom of the forest. He felt at home, until he met the lion.
Like him, the lion was able to transform. The lion was born a fox; something easily seen by how red the lion’s fur was, just like that of the foxes. He and the lion were known in the forest.
Both were quite peculiar.
—
“Did you hear?” the badger asked him. The badger’s mouth was full of honey the bear harvested.
“What?” The bear asked.
“What some of the foxes say,” the badger sat against the wall of the bear’s cave. His round belly made heavy up and down motions, like a shaken balloon filled with water. “They want to get rid of the bears and badgers and won’t allow any desert hedgehog into the forest.”
The bear changed into a fox. He always did when he was about to leave the cave, it was quicker that way. He was perplexed. He thought the riches and the fruits and the caves of the forest were plenty, so why would the foxes spout such nonsense?
“Why would they say that?”
The badger leaned forward on all fours. His honey-filled belly nearly touched the wet floor of the cave: “Apparently, the red lion told them.”
“Of course,” he muttered.
—
“Why?” The brown fox howled, “Why must you destroy these bonds we build? Why must you exclude animals that have lived in this forest they call home? Why must you take—just like the wolf did—the bonds that we have forged? Oh, lion, please enlighten me.”
The lion lay on a boulder, his front paws crossed, and his head raised. The crowns of the acorn trees threw shadows on the lion, and the leaves gently weaved with the wind. Although the lion’s silhouette was recognizable, its body was hidden, darkened. Its eyes, however, had a glint, like recently polished gems decorating a shapeless void.
The lion looked down into the pit and said to the brown fox and the badger: “This land you call home, bear, belongs to us,” its voice rumbled and echoed, “It was the foxes who asked the help of the bears and others, sure, and in return we allowed you to stay, but this forest has always been the fox’s to reign.” The lion stood up, jumped down the few smaller boulders, before joining the brown fox and the badger. It smirked and encircled them.
The badger sat back down again and looked up. His belly had shrunk a little. The badger saw foxes hiding in the shadows of the trees.
“And so,” the lion continued, “who is there to stop us? Reclaim that what was ours to being with? Tell me, bear.”
“Oh lion, staying to long in that form has truly changed you. You have become the selfish child of chaos, and the greed within you corrupted your essence.” The fox turned into a bear. His tiny paws became massive. His back arched and his flesh expanded left to right. His snout was filled with sharp and thick teeth that could shred the bark of any tree into nothing but wooden chips.
“I truly despise you, bear,” the lion trotted towards him.
“Can’t you remember the past, lion?”
“That was before my time.”
“And yet you feel no hurt of things your ancestors had to go through with the wolf? Or were they accomplices?”
The lion growled, “You insolent fool, do not dare.”
“So, why do you wish to pollute the forest’s peace with hate?”
“Because of you,” the lion answered, “you are in every animals’ mouth. You shouldn’t, I should.” The lion jumped onto the bear. The badger ran up behind a rock for protection. The bear reacted soon enough and positioned himself on his two hind legs, catching the lion mid-air. Both tumbled and slid towards the boulders. The lion landed with its back against them. The bear swung with his front paws, cutting the lion’s belly. The bear had deep claw marks on his face, above his right eye. Blood streamed into it, blinding him. The lion breathed heavy, not standing up. The bear turned around, while the badger slowly re-joined him.
“Did…did you kill him?” the badger asked.
“I’m not dead,” the lion looked at them both, the badger jumped up and hid behind the bear: “Remember this, bear, we always will be here. Always.”
“And yet, lion, we too, will always be here. We told our cubs stories of the wolf and of the wolf’s danger. The pain he inflicted on our forest and even the neighbouring forests. And the young learned. They are stronger, smarter than us. They made friends not only with each other—bears and foxes—but they created bonds with rabbits, badgers, tigers, hyenas, and even the cubs of wolves. But it seems, red lion, that I now have to warn them from you too.”
The lion’s last effort was a laugh, and the foxes hiding in the shadows of the acorn trees cackled. They were heard throughout the forest.
—
It was after this fight, that some of the animals left the forest. Their home was sullied. And, as rumours tell, the bear lost his ability to change into a fox, or did he actively choose not to anymore?