The Fox, the Wolf, and the Gnoll (short story)

I'm a bit behind on content for Patreon, and the two stories I wrote last month are for anthology projects. I cannot share those yet, and I've not done a lot of work on The Blood of Life. I do have another Gnoll Tales story though that never made it to Patreon, so I'm putting it up.

We gnolls enjoy the simple life when we can. While some of us are magic users, warriors, or tradespeople, some of us aren’t. Some of my clanmates are simple farmers just trying to get by. It can be a hard life, but that’s fine. Up north, there’s a gnoll named Alun who has a farmstead in a small valley. It’s not a large holding, but he can grow enough crops to get by, and in the winter, he enjoys sitting by the hearth swapping stories with the local townspeople.

Now, if you’re going to tell a good story in the middle of winter when the nights are long and the snow covers the ground you’re going to want a good drink to go with it. Alun happens to also be a brewer, and he supplements his income by brewing beer and spirits for the local tavern. He makes good stuff too, because even the local dwarves appreciate his drink, and most dwarves have a very refined taste when it comes to drinking.

Even when you have everything you need, there’re usually some things you want you just can’t quite get your hands or paws on. It was on a snowy winter morning a few years ago that Alun went out to find some juniper berries. Alun wanted to make some spirits strong enough to blanch his spots and make even the hardest warrior feel its effects. He had some juniper trees by the side of his house, but it can take two to three years for the berries to ripen. The trees he had were just out of season and not ready to harvest from.

Without the fruit he needed on hand, he decided he was going to forage for some berries in the nearby forest. Alun’s mate Shana had told him to bring back a deer or rabbit if he could, and she’d stew it with some of the berries. So, with a basket in one hand, and his bow slung over his shoulder, he trudged out into the snow. It was just past the winter solstice, and the snow was deep, the wind blowing bits of it around. Alun’s fur had thickened for the winter, but he’d still slung a warm cloak over his tunic. There was no point freezing his tail off like a fool. He also packed a little dried meat to tide him over since he wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone for, and it was better to have it and not need it than go hungry.

Setting off, his paws crunched through the snow as he walked across the farm and crossed into the woods. The stand at the edge of the field he’d already harvested earlier in the season, and while some ripe berries might be near the top of the trees, trying to find something left on them seemed like a fool’s errand. He stood a good chance of falling, and that would likely leave him buried in snow if he fell, and who knows what he might twist or break. He didn’t want to have to make Shana fetch the cleric while his three young cubs fretted about their dad, and he was pretty sure the cleric, an elf of so many years she’d lost count, would give him a tongue lashing. He could hear in his head her lecturing him about foolishly trying to pull fruit off a tree just to flavor some drink.

It was a good day to forage, although there was the hint of coming snow on the air. Alun admired the quiet of the woods as he hiked toward the nearby hillsides where he knew some juniper grew. He thought he’d spotted nearly ripe berries there a couple months ago when he’d gone out hunting, so hopefully they were ready by now.

The first stand of juniper he checked had already been harvested. Whoever had done it had only taken some of the berries, so it was probably one of the innkeeper’s family. They always left some berries behind. He was able to pick a few there, carefully pulling them off the branches so as not to disturb the tree. It would be faster if he cut some branch tips off, but that only cut down the number of berries the tree would grow in the future, so he wasn’t going to do that.

The gnoll then headed to the next group of trees he knew about. These had many more berries on them, and he was just starting to grab some, when he noticed a red fox sitting in the snow, looking at him.

“These aren’t grapes you know,” he said to the fox, which just flicked its ears, but didn’t move.

Instead, it sat there, watching, waiting for something. Alun frowned and felt his ears lay back, but he ignored the creature and returned to collecting berries. He was almost done with one branch when he heard a crunch of snow and looked back at the fox. It had come closer and was looking at him intently.

“You’re a brave little guy,” he said to the fox, and after thinking for a moment, he tossed one of the berries into the snow in front of the fox. “There. Now let me get back to work.” He turned back to the tree.

“All those berries, and you are only going to just give me one?”

He froze and looked back at the fox, and then glanced around. “Who said that?”

“Me,” said the fox. “Who else are you going to talk to out here?”

Alun dropped the basket, and backed up, away from the fox. “You talk?” said the gnoll, startled.

“Yes,” said the fox, walking up and putting their muzzle into the basket. “If you don’t need all these, I’ll just help myself.”

“When did foxes start talking?” mumbled Alun.

“We didn’t just start talking. Well, I did, but that’s because of a druid, but anyway. Do you need all these?”

“Need what?”

“The berries!” exclaimed the fox. “I can’t reach them, and you’re so much better than me at picking them.”

“I…” he trailed off.

The fox tilted his head and looked at the gnoll. “You?”

“You talk!”

“Yes,” replied the fox. “Is a talking vixen a problem for you?”

“Foxes don’t talk,” stammered the gnoll.

“It’s my understanding that hyenas don’t talk either, but you talk.”

Alun was taken back. “Yes, but I’ve always talked. Also, I’m a gnoll, not a hyena. Well not a four-legged hyena,” he said, gesturing to his furred body and the fact he stood on two footpaws.

“Lucky you, I guess,” she remarked. “I met a druid, and now I talk.”

“There is a druid here, in Fairview Meadow?”

“There was, and uh, what’s Fairview Meadow?”

“That’s the town.”

The fox scratched at an ear. “Oh, so that’s what you people call where you live. Anyway, back to the berries, are you going to eat all these?”

Alun wasn’t sure what to say, but what was he going to do, say no? “You can have some,” he replied.

The fox dipped her muzzle into the basket and carefully nosed out some berries from the overturned basket. When she’d taken about two dozen, she started to munch on them.

“These are much stronger than blueberries,” remarked the fox. “They’re not as sweet.”

“They’re juniper berries,” responded Alun.

“Ah… I learn something new every day.” The fox paused. “You have a name also?”

“Yes, Alun. Do you?”

The fox sat back and considered for a moment. “She didn’t give me a name, but I think so. I like the fall. Is autumn a good name? She told me the fallen leaves matched the color of my pelt. I wanted a pretty name.”

“Yes, and who did this to you?”

The fox scratched behind an ear. “Who made you?”

“My parents.”

“Oh, right, you talk naturally. Well, it was a woman who said I had a great destiny to fulfill. I think she wanted me to spy on some bandits, but that didn’t work out, and she had to leave. I tried to follow her, but they chased her pretty far. Since then, I’ve been wandering around. Not many people to talk to who want to talk to me.”

Alun knelt down and reached out a paw to Autumn. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” said the fox, tentatively sniffing at the offered paw, before moving forward to try and get Alun to scratch her ears, which he did. “Ahh. Thank you for this. There’s an itch I can’t reach right between them.”

“You’re welcome,” said the gnoll, picking up the basket with the other paw. He still didn’t have enough juniper berries for what he what he wanted to do, and now he was going to need to harvest more.

After a minute the fox broke off, and went to sit a few feet away from him, so she could watch him. Alun, not sure what to do, stood up. “I guess I should continue my picking.”

“I can come with you,” offered Autumn. “I don’t have anything to do, and the woods are dangerous.”

He patted the bow, which still rested on his shoulder. “I’m no ranger, but I know a thing or two about how to shoot.”

“Yes, but I’m kind of lonely,” pleaded the fox, “and I would love to have someone to actually talk to. There’s so much more I can say now that I couldn’t before, and you know things I don’t.”

“Well, I guess for a bit,” responded the gnoll.

“Thank you,” said the fox, dipping her head.

Autumn watched as the gnoll circled the tree, picking the berries from the low branches, careful not to take the needles off. While these had more berries, he left some for the next forager. When he was done, he scattered a few of the berries so the tree could seed itself, something that confused Autumn at first.

“Leave those be,” Alun said, pointing to the juniper berries he’d tossed away from the tree.

“Why throw them away?” she said, sniffing at a berry he’d tossed off.

“The trees need to grow just like we need to grow,” remarked the gnoll. “It’s something the druids teach.”

She sat down and considered. “Is this a type of farming?”

“No, but you can’t eat all your seeds, otherwise you won’t have something to plant next year. That’s just basic farming. Anyway, on to the next stand of juniper.”

They set out further up the hillside. There was a breeze and slowly the sky was filling up with thick clouds, and the scent of snow on the air was growing stronger. Alun pulled his cloak tighter over his tunic but pushed on ahead. If he was alone, he might have turned back now, but he wasn’t. He had Autumn with him, and if she could handle the snow, so could he, even if his pelt wasn’t nearly as thick as hers.

As they continued up the slope, he stopped a few times just to check the sky and see how the weather was changing, and make sure his bearings were right. The snow was thick too, and he sunk down to his knees in a few places. Autumn stuck behind him, hopping from each of his larger pawprints to the next.

“That’s a curious way to travel,” he remarked when he looked back and stopped to watch her traverse the snow.

“Well, you have a curious way to travel in the snow. You don’t break trail like a four-legged creature.”

“My legs are a bit longer than yours,” Alun said.

“Show off,” said the fox.

The gnoll shrugged and continued up the slope through the trees. The final group of junipers he wanted to look at was next to a rocky outcropping, and from there he could look down into the valley and see the fields of both his farm and the neighbor’s. At the far end of the valley, the houses of Fairview Meadow were clustered where the King’s Highway ran through the valley.

And on top of the outcrop something stirred, and a head of gray fur popped up and stood up on long legs with paws built for the snow.

It was a wolf.

Autumn came up behind Alun and froze.

“Stick close to me and you’ll be fine,” advised Alun. “He’ll move on.”

The wolf’s ears went back, and he dipped his head to stare at them.

“We should go,” whispered the fox, turning around.

“Autumn…” growled the wolf. “Is this what I think it is?”

The fox froze in mid step. Slowly she turned back toward the wolf. “Hi Scruff.”

“Here I let you go see who lives down there, while I rest my tired paws, and next thing you know you’re making friends with people without me? I barely got a good nap in, and you’ve already abandoned me!”

Autumn laid her ears back. “You know I couldn’t do that.”

The wolf approached them, hackles raised. “No? Did she even mention she had a friend?”

“Uh no…” Alun responded.

The wolf growled low. “You can’t just leave me out here! I can’t just go back to the pack like this.”

The fox huffed, annoyed. “Scruff, no one wants to adopt a wolf. You’re not cute like I am.”

The wolf stopped growling, and his ears drooped. His tail drooped behind him. “You don’t know that. I’m cute, right?” he asked, turning to Alun.

Alun wasn’t sure what to say. “You’re more rugged than cute,” said the gnoll.

“Rugged cute?” he whined, ears going back further, tail still.

“Yeah…”

He puffed up his fur. “See Autumn, he likes me.”

“He just met you, and I hadn’t even started the ‘can we stay here’ bit and now you’ve gone and ruined all the surprise.”

“You left me!” huffed the wolf. “I’m not a yearling anymore. I belong in a pack.”

The fox sighed and walked over to the wolf through the thick snow. “I know buddy, but can you at least let me try and find us a home?”

Alun cleared his throat. “It sounds like you have someone to talk to,” remarked the gnoll.

Scruff gave the fox a glance. “You tried that again?”

The fox sighed. “What else can I say? Hey, let me hang out around here and catch mice? Who needs that?”

“That’s actually rather useful for a farm,” said Alun.

“Wait, it is?” turned the fox in surprise. “You need a mouser?”

“Two perhaps?” asked Scruff hopefully.

“Scruff, wolves aren’t mousers.”

“Are too! Although it’s what you do when you’re a lone wolf.”

“He’s not going to just have deer you can chase, Scruff.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep up,” huffed the wolf.

“I don’t have the bite for deer!” she replied.

The gnoll cleared his throat. “Why did a druid awaken two animals?”

“There are things I couldn’t do for her,” said Scruff. “She needed a less noticeable scout, and while I can move silently through the brush, people tend to react violently when they see a wolf in the bushes. Autumn is smaller, and less likely to attract arrows.”

“I’m the silent type,” added the fox.

The wolf shook his fur out. “Right, well you tipped them off by trying to ask them for food.”

“Would you leave that be? I told you I’m sorry. I told Brenna I’m sorry.”

“Brenna is dead, Autumn.”

The fox shrunk down. “I know… It’s my fault, but I didn’t know. I thought since I could talk to her, I could talk to them, and see what I could learn from them. How was I supposed to know they were going to come looking for her! And now she’s gone, and here we are alone, and no one needs us now, and I can’t get this stupid voice out of my head, and it’s—”

“Shh…” whispered Scruff, as he came and licked the fox’s face. “I’m here, and I’ll help you figure it all out. It took me a while to understand what Brenna did to me, and to accept it. As long as we’re together, we’ll be okay. Being awakened isn’t so bad, but you need to keep positive about it.”

Autumn just sobbed. “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask to be given all these words and not have the knowledge to understand what they all meant. Look at me, who needs a fox that talks? Who knows what to do with one of those!”

“I know,” said Scruff. “I had more time to learn then you did.”

The fox shrank back and shivered. “I want my old self back.”

“You’re still you,” said the wolf. “You’re just more than you.”

Alun walked over and crouched down next to Autumn as Scruff moved to the side. “It’s okay. Magic does weird stuff, and I don’t understand it myself, but you’re going to be okay.”

She blinked her eyes and whined. “You’re just being nice to me because I’m pathetic. Brenna awakened me because she needed someone to do stuff for—” She froze when Alun reached to scratch behind her ears. “I hate that this feels so good.”

The gnoll chuckled and flicked his ears. “I’ve had people try and do that to me because they think it will soothe me, so I know it’s condescending, but oh does it feel good. I have a farm, and you both can stay there. You just need to leave my sheep alone.”

“Alone? They’re easy hunting,” exclaimed Scruff.

“Yeah, well they’re my sheep, not yours. You’d be my guest.”

“Oh, I’m a guest,” said the wolf. “I get it. It’s that social stuff you people do.”

“What’s a guest?” asked the fox.

“It’s someone who comes to stay with you that you look after, but doesn’t do anything useful,” said the wolf. “They’re like a pup, but they’re often an adult. Brenna had a few guests at her hut when it was just us.”

“Oh, well I don’t know about the being useless bit.”

“Well guests tell you stories, so we better think of some,” said Scruff, “and not just ones about what you ate yesterday.”

The gnoll considered. “I have cubs you can play with. They always need to be watched. You do like kids?” asked Alun.

“Pups?” asked Scruff.

“Kits?” asked Autumn.

“Children,” responded the gnoll. “I have three of them, and a wife.”

“Ah, that’s what the other scents are,” said Scruff, wagging his tail. “I’m great with pups. I regurgitated food for the ones my pack raised last spring.”

The gnoll frowned. “That’s not going to be necessary.”

“I can’t help nurse them, but I can sit with them,” said Autumn. “I will teach them how to be quiet on their paws, and how to be swift like me.”

“I can teach them how to howl like a wolf,” added Scruff.

Alun sighed. “That’s not necess—” he stopped himself, as both their ears went down. “You know what, maybe they can learn something from both of you.”

Autumn started wagging her tail excitedly and Scruff gave a soft wag. “You sure?” asked the wolf. “I know we’re a little different.”

“It will be fine.”

The wolf wagged his tail and came up to nose Alun, who reached down and rubbed behind his ears. Autumn bounded over and joined in excitedly.

“We found a home again!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“With food!” said the wolf.

“Well, I might need you to hunt for yourself,” remarked Alun. “Everyone has to work on the farm.”

“So, I can have one of the sheep?” asked the wolf, eyes big.

“No!”

He tilted his head and let his tongue roll out. “Fine, fine, I can go see what’s in the woods. You know, if you stop picking juniper berries, I can flush out some deer for you to try and shoot with your bow. You do know how to use that, right?”

“Of course, and that would be useful,” said the gnoll. “Shana, my wife, would like some game for dinner.”

“Just give me a haunch and the rest is yours,” said the wolf, bounding off into the woods and then pausing. “Hey Autumn?” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” he said, before he turned and trotted off.

“Do you think he can find a deer?” Alun asked.

“Oh yeah. He’s a great hunter. It’s a lot easier if you don’t have to catch them and just drive them toward someone.”

That afternoon Alun brought home fresh meat, juniper berries, one fox, and one wolf. Since then, his farm has run a lot smoother with no mouse problems and easy game in the winter. As for his beer and spirits, those have been selling well in the local village. Everything has been going well for him, except for the fact Scruff taught his children how to howl like a wolf.

Still, it’s a good life, even if sometimes it sounds like a whole pack of wolves is living under his roof when Scruff gets the kids going, but that’s exactly the type of life he wants to live.