Sunday, July 15, 2007
natives and others in Narnia
There was the fox, one paw raised, silent in the snow. Her eyes golden, legs black-stockinged, she looked back at me.
You don't belong here, I said.
She slowly blinked, and twitched her ear.
I am descended from the First Red Fox from England, she answered,
And unless I am mistaken, that is not a possum-skin cloak you wear. You belong here no more than I.
She moved into the trees, a shadow against the blue light of the night snow.
The Eastern Grey lay by the side of the road. His kangaroo face, pretty black-fringed eyes closed, seemed as part of the land as the rocks and trees. the snow blew into his fur, and I heard the voice,
You don't belonga here, no, you dont belonga here.
The Dusky Antechinus ran out from between the wooden boards of the hut,straight towards my armoured feet. A brown pompom covered in sugar, it gleefully darted about.
What are you doing, here in broad daylight? Should you not be curled up in your nest?
I'm hungry! I'm hungry! he squeaked, and seizing the remains of someones's lunch, sat happily and oblivious between my feet, stuffing his face.
I went off to search for the wardrobe, the exit point from Narnia, and begin my journey back to the sea.
"DANGER, Will Robinson...!"