FSE

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'Stand, even if you only stand alone.'

The fox stared at the words plastered across the poster: a faded, partially ripped paper rectangle as wide as a doorway, and stretching up so that the fox needed to tilt his head upwards to see the full thing. On its front, at the center, the silhouette of a very small figure stood. Compared to the rest of the poster, the figure barely stood taller than one of the fox's own fingers. What stood out more, though, were the figures in front of the smaller one.

A titanic row of giant figures stood before the smaller one on the poster: black silhouettes whose only prominent features were darkened faces and the perspective that they all faced the smaller figure. With their arms at their sides, they all looked down at the one, puny person before them. They outnumbered the lone person, and were many times bigger and yet, the one dissenter didn't look afraid, or about to run. The figure stood, alone and ramrod straight, faced by the giant crowd.

The fox read the sentence again, written in bold script near the bottom. After reading it, the fox looked back up at the poster. He felt like he should've been inspired, but he just felt tired. Taking his eyes off the wall, the fox surveyed his own surroundings.

He stood alone on a brightly lit platform by a set of rails, and surrounded by the dark overcast of a nighttime sky. Further off, he could see a parking lot and a few buildings that composed the rest of the train station. No one else stood nearby. The low chirr of crickets provided the only occasional break from the silence.

Turning back, the fox let down his bag and rested his head against the wall behind the bench the sat on. The poster stood above and behind him, the only thing decorating the walls aside from the occasional tag of paint and graffiti. The cool air fogged the fox's breath, and he suppressed a shiver. He regretted not bringing a heavier jacket.

He looked down the line, and saw nothing but the rails and the dark horizon. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. Second thoughts clouded his decisions to come here. His original plan was to get on the train and reach his chartered ship early, with enough spare time to find something to eat an hour before the ship left. An hour already passed, and the sign above the rails already spelled out 'LATE' in bright, digital script above his head. He made a frustrated noise and slouched down with folded arms. Then, he began to remember what he planned to do.

His frustration melted bit by bit until he felt himself smile again. He left his university searching for something exciting, and he found it. A chance to go offworld. A chance to get closer to the things he spent his life studying. He found a ship chartered to go to a city on the edge of known territory, close to some ruins. They were already well-explored, but he decided that he wanted to go on an adventure. He looked up the ship himself, and bought passage with the money he saved over his time as a student.

The fox didn't notice the train pull up until the slow clickety-clack of its wheels over the rails shook the station floor. A short train with only a few cars pulled up, doors opening with a weak hiss. Out of all the cars, barely more than a handful of passengers stepped off: figures with heavy coats that shuffled off quickly towards the exits. As it pulled in, the fox roused himself and pulled up his backpack as he walked towards the nearest door. Before he stepped on, the door prompted him to swipe a ticket through a slot. As the fox reached for his pocket, the doors opened, revealing a figure blocking the way.

A tall and smartly dressed fox stood in the doorway, blocking it. A cleanly pressed suit and gleaming glasses sharpened his already chiseled features. He stood well over a head taller than the younger fox, and stared down intently at him with an unreadable expression. The younger fox, still carrying his backpack, coughed politely and stepped forward, half expecting the well-dressed fox to get out of the way. He didn't.

Now face-to face with the tall fox, the younger fox opened his mouth to speak, but was caught off-guard by the penetrating gaze of the tall one. The tall one looked down at him, never breaking eye contact, never making a single motion. The younger fox could barely tell if he was breathing, either. It made him uneasy.

The feeling of unease faded, though, and became overtaken by a feeling of impatience as the younger fox coughed again and muttered 'excuse me', hoping the other person would take the hint to move. The tall fox still didn't budge. The younger fox spoke again, more clearly, this time, and then pushed past the tall fox.

The young fox tensed when he felt the tall one's shoulder, and he half expected to be pushed, or shoved back. Instead, very slowly, and very deliberately, the tall fox gave him one last look, and then stepped off without looking back. The young fox glanced back and watched the tall one stalk away for a moment before turning back and setting down his bag on the nearest seat. When he looked up again, the tall one disappeared.

Blinking, the young fox looked around, searching for the tall one. The platform had no clear obstructions, and the only buildings nearby stood a solid five minute walk away. Still, the tall one managed to disappear without so much as a sound. With that, the young fox shrugged, then sat back down. He remembered that he would be dealing with people who were foreign, and that he still needed to adjust his manners to deal with folks who might misunderstand what he means to say. Odds were, the tall one wasn't from around here, and he probably didn't mean harm, so the young fox decided not to spend too much time dwelling on it. He turned his thoughts instead to what he would spend the next few hours doing. With a yawn, he stretched out over a few seats and tucked his backpack behind him as a pillow.

He relaxed, closing his eyes and letting his tiredness overtake him. It would be better to think about what lay ahead. With the first step onto the train and past someone in the way, he felt as though he actually overcame something significant: his first step on a journey. His mind returned to the poster of the lonely figure confronted by a crowd, and he remembered the sentence:

'Stand, even if you only stand alone.'

He smiled a little. He didn't need a poster to remind him to be brave. He already lived its advice.