Bri Posted October 22, 2003 Share Posted October 22, 2003 Delainy: "Hello Aerie, may I beg a moment of your time?" Aerie: "Oh...hi Delainy. You surprised me. What may I do for you?" Delainy: "I heard tell that you are a cleric. If you don't mind me sticking my snout where it doesn't belong, who do you serve?" Aerie: "I don't mind. The one I follow is Baervan Wildwanderer. A gnomish god...some people find it funny, but he is the one who has my loyalty. May I ask for the interest about Baervan?" Delainy: "I...well, I won't deny that I'm curious about other deities, since my people worshipped so few. Imagine my surprise at the sheer variety of gods and goddesses you have...and all the stories with them!" Aerie: "Heh, well if it is stories you are looking for, you won't find many of Baervan without Chiktikka by his side." Delainy: "Chiktikka?" Aerie: "Baervan's raccoon companion..." Delainy: "Interesting. I never heard of Baervan, but we have stories of Raccoon. Would you like to hear it?" Aerie: "Heh, okay, but I have an inkling that even if it isn't Chiktikka, but a relative, about what type of story it will be..." Delainy: "It was the height of summer, the time of year called, the Great Heat. All day long, from a blue and cloudless sky, the blazing Sun beat down upon the earth. No rain had fallen for many days and there was not the slightest breath of wind to cool the stifling air. Everything was hot and dry. The animals drooped with misery. They were parched and hungry, for it was too hot to hunt for food and, panting heavily, they sought what shade they could under the rocks and bushes. Raccoon was the unhappiest of all. Twice that day the shimmering heat had tempted him across the baked earth towards visions of water and cool, shady trees. He had exhausted himself in his desperate attempts to reach tem, only to find the mirages dissolve before him, receding further and further into the distance. Now, tired and wretched, he dragged himself into the shadow of an overhanging rock and crouched there listlessly. His soft fur was caked with the red dust of the desert. His head swam and his eyes ached from the Sun's glare. 'Why does it have to be so hot?' he groaned. 'What have we done to deserve such torment?' He squinted up at the Sun and shouted furiously, 'Go away! You are making everything too hot!' Sun took no notice at all and continued to pour down his fiery beams, forcing Raccoon to retreat once more into the shade of the rock. 'Sun needs to be taught a lesson,' grumbled Raccoon. 'I have a good mind to go and fight him. If he refuses to stop shining, I will kill him!' His determination to punish Sun made him forget his weariness and, in spite of the oppressive heat, he set off at a run towards the eastern edge of the world where the Sun came up each morning. As he ran, he practiced with his bow and arrows and, to make himself brave and strong, he fought with everything which crossed his path. He fought with the gophers and the lizards. He hurled his throwing stick at beetles, ants and dragonflies. He shot at the yucca and the giant cactus. He became a very fierce Raccoon indeed. By the time he reached the edge of the world, Sun had left the sky and was nowhere to be seen. 'The coward!' sneered Raccoon. 'He is afraid to fight, but he will not escape me so easily,' and he settled to wait behind a clump of bushes. In those days, Sun did not appear slowly as he does now. Instead he rushed up over the horizon and into the heavens with one mighty bound. Raccoon knew that he would have to act quickly in order to ambush him and he fixed his eyes intently on the spot where the Sun usually appeared. Sun, however, had heard all Raccoon's threats and had watched him fighting. He knew that he was lying in wait among the bushes. He was not at all afraid of this puny creature and he thought that he might have some amusement at his expense. He rolled some distance away from his usual place and swept up into the sky before Raccoon knew what was happening. By the time Raccoon had gathered his startled wits and released his bowstring, Sun was already high above him and out of range. Raccoon stamped and shouted with rage and vexation. Sun laughed and laughed and shone even more fiercely than before. Although almost dead from heat, Raccoon would not give up. Next morning he tried again, but this time Sun came up in a different place and evaded him once more. Day after day the same thing happened. Sometimes Sun sprang up on Raccoon's right, sometimes on his left and sometimes straight in front of him, but always where Raccoon least expected him. One morning, however, Sun grew careless. He rose more leisurely than usual, and this time, Raccoon was ready. Swiftly he drew his bow. His arrow whizzed through the air and buried itself deep in Sun's side. Raccoon was jubilant! At last he had shot his enemy! Wild with joy, he leaped up and down. He rolled on the ground, hugging himself. He turned somersaults. He looked at Sun again - and stopped short. Where his arrow had pierce Sun, there was a gaping wound and, from that wound, there gushed a stream of liquid fire. Suddenly it seemed as if the whole world had been set ablaze. Flames shot up and rushed towards Raccoon, crackling and roaring. Raccoon paused not a moment longer. He took to his heels in panic and ran as fast as he could away from the fire. He spied a lone cottonwood tree and scuttled towards it. 'Everything is burning!' he cried. 'Will you shelter me?' The cottonwood shook its slender branches mournfully. 'What can I do?' it asked. 'I will be burned to the ground.' Raccoon ran on. Behind him, the flames were coming closer. He could feel their breath on his back. A greasewood tree lay in his path. 'Hide me! Hide me!' Raccoon gasped. 'The fire is coming.' 'I cannot help you,' answered the greasewood tree. 'I will be burned up roots and branches.' Terrified and almost out of breath, Raccoon continued to run, but his strength was failing. He could feel the fire licking at his heels and his fur was beginning to singe. Suddenly he heard a voice calling to him. 'Quickly, come under me!' The fire will pass over me so swiftly that it will only scorch my top.' It was the voice of a small green bush with flowers like bunches of cotton capping its thin branches. Gratefully, Raccoon dived below it and lay there quivering, his eyes tightly shut, his ears flat against his body. With a thunderous roar, the sheet of flame leaped overhead. The little bush crackled and sizzled. Then, gradually, the noise receded and everything grew quiet once more. Raccoon raised his head cautiously and looked around. Everywhere the earth lay black and smoking, but the fire had passed on. He was safe! The little bush which had sheltered him was no longer green. Burned and scorched by the fire, it had turned a golden yellow. People now call it the desert yellow brush, for, although it first grows green, it always turns yellow when it feels the heat of the Sun. Raccoon never recovered from his fright. To this day, he bears brown spots where the fire scorched the back of his neck. He is no longer fierce and quarrelsome, but runs and hides at the slightest noise. As for Sun, he too was never quite the same. He now makes himself so bright that no one can look at him long enough to sight an arrow and he always peers very warily over the horizon before he brings his full body into view Aerie: "Ha, that almost does sound like Chiktikka. Always getting in trouble. Thank you for sharing that story..." Delainy: "You're welcome." Link to comment
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