Legends Never Die

The Story-Teller

"That was so great!" Abelle chattered happily, bouncing on her toes while they waited for the crowd of pushy children to make their way out of the story-teller's tent. Silver kept a tight hold on her hand, not trusting her to keep her newfound elation at bay.

A larger coyote casted a shadowed glance at the two of them and Silver resisted the urge to flinch, instead finding himself tugging the corner of his hood farther over his face.

When the stream of children began to thin, Silver helpfully stepped forward, gently tugging Abelle's hand to signal that they were going to move. But Abelle resisted, feet planted as if they'd been rooted there, nearly causing the hedgehog to rock backwards. He looked back at her, confused. She didn't return his look, her head turned to look back at the fireplace and the story-teller still sitting on her stool.

"What's wrong?" Silver whispered, closing the gap between them and casting fleeting glances at the kids still shuffling out of the tent.

"Nothing, I just..." Her ear twitched. "I thought I heard her say something.."

Silver's ears tried to straighten and turn, but the hood covering his long, grey quills inhibited their movement. Exasperation shivered down his spine and his ears flicked in irritation against the material that kept them from doing their job.

Cocking his head, he followed her gaze to the old Mobian stoking the fire with a stick. She didn't seem to care about them, not even giving the last disappearing child a second glance.

He sighed, "C'mon Abelle she's not-"

"Oh splendid. You heard me."

Silver's spine straightened as if a bolt had just went through it. The same, smooth voice from earlier was speaking to them, barely more than a whisper.

Silver turned towards her, his eyes wide and his heart drumming. He watched as she slowly stood from her seat and took careful, nearly silent steps towards them.

Her arms were tucked inside her layers of shawls and her posture was relaxed. There was no hint of malice or anger in her face, yet Silver couldn't help but feel like he'd done something wrong. Adults rarely decided to acknowledge him, let alone took the initiative to talk to him. And if they did, it was usually with stiff discomfort.

She bridged the space between them with such grace it almost seemed like she was floating.

"Yeah, I heard you," Abelle answered, her eyes darting up and down the story-teller's frame excitedly.

The story-teller paused. Silver could have reached out and touched her. She towered over him and, despite the softness in her eyes, Silver couldn't stop the flood of dread that pushed words from his mouth in a panicked rush.

"Isthisaboutmeleavingearlier?I'msosorryIdidn'tmeantodisturbyouitwasanaccidentandithappenedsofastI-"

"Hush, child." Her voice was so calming and gentle, like salve on a smarting wound, and he instantly found himself silenced.

She bent down to their level, taking in the small cat and cloaked hedgehog in front of her. She reached forward, resting her hand on his shoulder. He couldn't move.

"It's all right. Neither of you are in any trouble."

Her hand pulled away and Silver visibly sighed in relief, he noticed his hand trembling in Abelle's grip.

"Why did you want us to wait?" Abelle's voice piped up, nothing but curiosity in her tone.

"I simply wished to speak with you," the story-teller told them, "I remember you from the other times I've visited this city. You two never miss a show."