Aurora Borealis Martes
an excerpt

There are few feats of architecture as amazing as the marten tree house. It is plain jawdropping when it is a series of them built among the boughs of deciduous and evergreen alike. Martens were not that picky. All they wanted was the elevation and the comfort, the sway of that location above. This was a strange habit among the Four species who first entered the land of the Northern Lights. Gulos and badgers were masters of creating underground dwellings. Fishers had more of an aversion to water, though they did have the climbing abilities (some have figured it was that the forest wasn't big enough to fit the martens, the fishers and the fishers' egos).

What was interesting about the marten structures was that opposed to obsessively cutting branches and brush out of the way to make what they wanted fit, they built their homes along the branches, to the form of the tree. So their homes were curved, without rough edges, the walls crooked, yet softly fading into each other; disorganized, yet perfect. Hard to see how it worked unless you were a marten. In a system of these treehouses, it was difficult to get around unless you were a marten too (or at the very least a squirrel). Every neighborly visit would be a daring adventure for the inexperienced, whether if be a swing on a vine or a few harrowing leaps from branch to branch. Martens did this with an undeniable magic, a flowing matter that only they could accomplish. Their bodies were fluid in takeoff, in air, in landing, from their core, to limbs, to their long fluffy tail. There was a /coolness/ in all this.

Kipper was impressed as Merk described this all in shorter terms and more personal reflection.

"...wind through the fur, as if diving into the North Sea, cool and exhilarating the heart flutters once for fear, then slows as it accepts and trusts the will of the marten."

"I...didn't know you were...a...fox-ish speaker."

Merk snorted, "Where you think the foxes got it?"

"I don't know...should I..."

"Marten lore tells that once a wolf and a marteness fell deeply in love. Of course, this was a forbidden love, as many stories tell of, and it was met with much turmoil. As tends to happen, this only made the love all the stronger. They waited until the midst of the Full Night, a time of darkness, for it was a time before the lights existed, and they escaped into the Western Mountains, not to be seen again until the Equilibrium. In this time, they say, the Northern Lights began, and this time that a new species was conceived in the highest of the East Mountains, the Behemoth Fuzz..."

(Merk noticed the stifled laugh of the hare and added, “Not the greatest name, I know, I didn't come up with it. I think it was made to amuse the kits. Anyway...")

"This species and the Lights, they say, were conceived from this union between the wolf and marteness. This species became known as the Fox, and since the Lights came from his being, the Lights were therefore named revontulet, fox fires.”

"Wow..." Kipper mused.

"Unions between wolves and martens were common afterward, until the sheer physics and proportions made it too much a bother to carry on, but it does explain how the foxes expanded at first without..."

Kipper squeaked.

"I would think that a lagomorph would be appreciative of the details that...a species needs two to keep up...I..." Merk suddenly straightened up. His tail twitched, once. He carried on, as if he didn't say the previous thought, "Martens can't understand how stories about a species introduction into the world can overlook such simple nature facts sometimes. There could have been multiple kits besot but still, then that could turn out a messed up species when you overlap...sorry, I was taught many strange things growing up."

This explanation settled down Kipper, for he had been taught things that other beasts would think strange in his leverethood, like things about something called "geo-pawing", that was the observation of groundshakes, and also the study of clouds and smell of the air for "above-geo-pawing". The former did not factor much anymore since the area that that had matter was gone, but the other had given proper warning for the gale that previous evening.

"Thank you for telling me the story, Mister Merk."

"Heck, General is better than Mister, Kip. I'll say it without going over the top and making a fake threat of ripping your jaw out. Lighten up, Kip, these are better times. Not like until just a few Long Days after the Lights...well...before my time, best not think about it."

The hare fought the impulse to ask what was so bad then. He debated whether he should bring up a discussion mentioned in his and his mate's inn last evening, over a game of PawWhack. The few times he had seen Merk when dropping off the leverets, the marten definitely seemed the cheeriest now, while the other times, a grim faraway look was on his face as he watched his daughter scamper about in play.

"I enjoyed the story too, for what's its worth."

Maws turned upward. Rocking back ad forth, seemingly hanging from nothing at an obviously uncomfortable angle, a raccoon's dark eyes looked quizzically back.