FSE

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The Lavvu shelter shuddered as the roaring winds battered it, the birch frame creaking as it gently flexed - many herbs and dried meats swinging from side to side as it did. But the reindeer hide walls held firm, stretched tightly across the frame with no room to flap around and blow away, keeping the warmth of the fire contained within the Lavvu shelter.

Within the shelter, set back from the fire, was a small lean-to made by draping an auroch pelt over a small wooden frame. A shelter within a shelter, inside of which was huddled a little fox-boy, Kuveli.

He sat upon a bed of dried grass and animal hides, several strips of leather dangling from the frame in front of him. A whole rainbow was set out at his footpaws, contained to separate bowls which lie just outside the lean-to - into which he dipped one of the strips.

Leaving it there for a moment, Kuveli picked up a carved wooden cup from his lap and brought it to his lips. The steam boiling off its crimson contents warmed his sleek muzzle as a wave of hot tea washed down his throat. The flavour was sweet and minty, and a contented smile curled onto his lips. It was hard to go wrong with L?po, being the simple combination of mint leaves boiled in reindeer blood.

Placing the cup back down, the little fox wiped his muzzle; smearing a crimson stain across his white-furred chin. He then wiped his crimson-stained paw against his patchwork animal hide skirt and returned to the chores at paw.

Plucking the leather strip from the woad dye, Kuveli quickly inspected it for any missed spots. He stretched it out before himself and flipped it over a few times, flecking wet blue dye across the opposite wall. When he was satisfied, he brought both ends of the strip together and hooked it around his big toe, pulling as tight as it would go.

As the leather snapped taught, the little fox began to wind it around and around, over and under and over again, braiding the blue leather into shape. Reaching the end, he tied it off in a knot and unhooked the braided leather from his toe.

Kuveli shuffled out of the lean-to on his feet and paws, rounding the fire to where a small stand was set up. Two sticks were hammered into the packed dirt, supporting another stick placed across them, upon which were hung a pawful of colourful braided leather strips.

Lifting the lengthways stick Kuveli slipped the new woad strip onto his collection, letting it slide to the far end before putting the stick back down. The stand was placed close to the roaring fire, the flames almost licking at it as they crackled and popped, devouring their firewood like ravenous dogs. This way the dye would dry fastest, and the braided leather would be ready for tomorrow night.

Kuveli drew a long breath, six down and only twelve to go. He reached for his tea again, reclining and taking another sip, his ears swivelling atop his head. There was nothing outside except the endless howl of the wind.

No friends laughing hysterically as they threw animal dung at some poor passer-by.

No adults crunching confidently through the snow, chatting about the next hunt.

Not even the pitter patter of the camp dogs searching for unguarded leftovers.

That was, until a subtle crunching approached the shelter. Kuveli's eyes widened, both his ears and his tail standing erect as he listened intently. The steps were almost lost in the relentless storm, but the little fox focused, listening carefully as they approached the wall behind him, then turned and padded alongside the Lavvu.

Turning his head towards the Lavvu's entrance, Kuveli's arctic-blue eyes began to glow with excitement. He jumped to his footpaws, his tail swishing back and forth, and a huge grin plastered across his muzzle.

Finally, big brother was back.

The flap burst inwards with a whoosh, followed by a gale that almost snuffed out the roaring fire. A white figure scrambled inside, clawing at the flap to stop himself falling over before forcing it closed against, holding it closed with his shoulder as the wind growled and snarled, demanding to be let in. The figure tied off the cords that held it shut, then slumped down into a pile on the floor.

"Rough winter" the figure chuckled weakly, his chest heaving as he panted hard. A thin crust of icy snow covered every inch of his clothing, making him look more like a snow-covered pine tree than the slender, birch-like form Kuveli knew.

Pulling back the fur hood, the figure revealed a smiling vulpine face with arctic-blue eyes identical to Kuveli's. The little fox cracked a smirk, throwing his paws over his mouth as he tried to hold back a laugh upon seeing his brother, Sakara, dazed and slumped in a pile. Especially with that dopey smile that made him look as though he'd drank one too many cups of fermented mare's milk.

"I can see that," replied Kuveli once he'd fought back the need to laugh. He then skipped over to his big brother, skidding to a halt and dropping onto his knees at Sakara's side. "So did you get it?"

"Have patience little bud. My limbs are frozen solid!" Sakara reached out a mittened paw and playfully shoved his brother to the ground, Kuveli retaliating by kicking his leg and causing a small avalanche to slip down his over-leggings.

The older fox stood and began to strip off his snow-caked clothes, untying the sinew bindings and removing the reindeer fur sleeves from his arms, followed by the huge chest piece of the same material - sliding easily over his head and showering snow all across the floor. Kuveli watched as his brother halved in size, then halved again as he lifted the long buckskin tunic from his shoulders and began to grope it in different places.

"That's still dry," he mumbled as he lifted the tunic to his nose and took a quick whiff. He then tossed it into a separate corner of the shelter, "I'll sort it in the morning."

Next, Sakara lifted his footpaw up and let Kuveli remove the ragged beaverskin boot. The little fox took it eagerly and stood, using a spare cord to hang the boot over the fire to dry; keeping it upright so the sole stuffed with easily burned dry grass didn't spill out.

Repeating the process with the other boot, they then worked together to peel the reindeer fur over-leggings from Sakara's legs, stripping him down to nothing but a pair of thin, buckskin under-leggings. Sheepishly, the older fox tucked his tail between his legs to cover his sheath and scampered away to find a loincloth.

"What are you afraid of? I've seen it before!" Kuveli snorted, teasing his brother over such a rare display of modesty.

"I was afraid you'd laugh," Sakara joked as he picked his favourite knee-length loincloth from a bundle of clothes, piled haphazardly by the lean-to. "It gets smaller when it's cold." He loosened his belt and slipped the hare skin between his legs, making sure the flaps matched on the front and back before tightening his belt again.

The older fox drew a long sigh, his breath misting in front of him, turning around just as Kuveli came and crouched in front of him. His little brother was still beaming with a smile, his tail slowly wagging as he looked up with pleading eyes.

"Have you eaten yet?" Sakara raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side, watching as the little fox's smile faded slightly.

"Maybe..." Kuveli seemed to shrink, feeling the heat of the flames against his back. His brother huffed and rested his head on his paw, frowning.

"I told you not to go hungry if I was out late," groaned Sakara as he crouched on his haunches, putting himself on equal footing with his little brother.

Kuveli's tail stopped wagging, and he leaped forward a step, barking "I know, but-"

"But it's a good thing you didn't listen," asserted Sakara, cutting off his little brother mid-sentence. Kuveli stammered and caught the words before they could escape his mouth, flopping his head to the side with a dumbfounded look.

Raising a bony finger, Sakara got up and walked back over to the pile of his recently shed clothes. He plucked something out of it, a wicker fish trap wrapped in animal hides, a kind of backpack for long journeys. Sakara cradled it against his chest as he strolled back over to Kuveli and sat down, offering it to the little fox.

"Here, it's a gift from the shaman," the older fox insisted, pushing the pack against Kuveli's chest and holding it there. Reluctantly, Kuveli accepted it, looking over it with bated curiosity.

"But the festival is tomorrow," Kuveli pointed out as he put the pack between his legs. He wanted an explanation before he'd open it, lest he anger the wild horse spirit, R?sori, by disrespecting the festivities held in his name.

"And he insisted we have it today," reiterated the older fox. He reached out and ran his thumb along Kuveli's cheek, while his other paw rested on the little fox's knee. "Go ahead, open it."

Tentatively, Kuveli brushed the leather cap aside, his eyes going wide while his jaw falling open. He slowly reached a paw into the pack, gripping the huge, bleached white horse skull that stared back at him with eyes of shining amber. It made the fur on the back of his neck stand up, sending a shiver up his spine. He could almost feel a soul trapped beneath those lifeless eyes.

"The shaman spoiled us this year," said Sakara, "there's more if you take it out." The older fox shuffled closer, settling by his little brother's side and pulling him into a tight hug. He rested his cheek on Kuveli's head as he watched the little fox unpack the gift.

Kuveli gingerly pulled the skull out of the pack, holding it up in front of them both as he kept staring into those shimmering eyes. It was enough to mesmerise the mind and enslave the soul. The tapering equine nose was pincer-like without the flesh to cover the bone, adding to its unsettling and otherworldly aura.

Sakara could feel his little brother tensing in his arms, and his heart beginning to race beneath his paw. He wrapped his other arm around his brother's body and squeezed him tight again, reminding the little fox that he was there to protect him.

"It's fine" sighed Kuveli, putting the skull in his lap. "It's nice actually, I just need to stop being afraid," he added, his voice slightly strained.

"Fear is there for a reason," Sakara contended as he gently stroked the fur on Kuveli's head. "Don't make a habit of ignoring it," he warned, then gave his brother a few firm pats on the head as he rose to his footpaws.

Plucking the horse skull from Kuveli's lap, Sakara gave it a shake. Something rattled around inside of it, and the older fox reached in through the neck. After some time rummaging, he returned clutching cuts of smoked venison, still piping hot from the fire, and offered half to his little brother.

Once they had shared the meal, Sakara fetched a cushion from within their lean-to. It was a simple thing, a pair of animal skins sewn together and stuffed with dry grass; much like the soles of their boots. He took both and walked back over to the stand, where the colourful leather strips were drying.

With great care, he placed the cushion on the ground before putting the skull on top of it. Then, he sat in front of it, staring the skull directly in the eyes for a few moments while Kuveli watched with bated breath.

Finally, his older brother turned to look at him, patting the ground and inviting him to sit back to back - keeping the mystical gaze of those amber eyes from burning into Kuveli's back. Hesitantly, the little fox crept over to his brother, his tail between his legs as he watched the skull for any threatening signs, before leaping behind his back as if he were hiding from an enraged bear.

"Have you had a chance to practice your singing voice for the festival?" Sakara glanced over his shoulder as he picked one of the leather strips from the stand. Kuveli shook his head in response.

"I haven't sung since the autumn festivals," replied the little fox as he leaned over and grabbed a pawful of the unpainted leather strips. He then dunked one in a bowl of crimson paint, repeating the same process as before.

Silence fell between them for a few moments as they settled into their work, Sakara leaning forward to fasten the coloured leather strips to the horse skull. The fear those eyes instilled was quickly diminished as the intimidating skull was given a ridiculous hair fit for the night of fun and feasting that was to come.

Then, suddenly, a melodic voice broke the silence. A tune that was lonely, being sung as if the singer was howling at the very stars above.

My sons have gone beyond the sunset

There was a pause, and Sakara gave his brother a nudge with his elbow, and then Kuveli realised what he needed to do. The little fox raised his muzzle skyward and continued the tune.

Shunned by mother to be hunted

And so they went on, each singing alternating lines - just as they would when they sang to the other Lentavohi, to seek entrance into their homes. As the traditions went, if the other Lentavohi gave up, then they would have to let the brothers in for a meal and a night of revelry. It was always considered common courtesy to give up.

Another one lies dead in fields faraway

Dying breaths slip from his muzzle

Blood dripping from the arrow in his heart

The strength sapped from his marrow

R?sori cries a harrowing cry.

Lost in their mournful duet, the brothers' voices eventually formed into one, single, great voice that howled to the spirits that watched over them.

Oh, father of the wild horses

Please understand our plight

We are hungry and we are cold

We will only take what we need

We know it's not much comfort

But without it we will starve