Take Me to the River

My smile lengthens freely in the company of the young, feathered mammal, perhaps more even than it might have before her  two-legged friend, and I giggle an auditory hug; a stone bouncing across a smooth pool, creating ripples of mirth where there had been none. Steadying Mordo’s armoured body as it begins to sway, balance startled by the arrival of the Gryphon, my free hand remains pressed calmly against his shell. The other moves to lean my old stick where the joint between his throat and body dips, after-which it ascends to provide obligatory pats and scratches around Isuma’s velvety ears. The fact that I was again touching a fabled creature such as she, fills me further with feelings of joy and wonder. “Well hello again little one,” I soothe with a much lower tone. Only very briefly, my fingers retreat to fish around bottom of the bag slung across my shoulders. They return with a  small portion of fresh peppermint bark wrapped in snow moss (a special habit of mine), and opening the parcel I invite it forward towards her. “Not your usual taste I suppose, but a treat none the less - for anyone!” The bark is in plentiful supply at the moment, though some trees I frequent around the Wildwood have turned a little sour; the bark from those I discard. Perhaps it is the tread of the barrier-folk ruining the soil. The thought is pushed aside for now though as I lift my eyes suddenly, this time to find the source of the commotion in the river. Two foxes who’s presence before I’d barely heeded, were fussing over the golden-scaled body of a fish. At first glance, there seemed little about them to rouse my interest, but when my narrowing gaze is drawn again, I realise with a look of astonishment, that one of them is white. “The white one again?” I whisper pensively; perhaps to Isuma, but more to myself.