The Golden Leaf and the Grey Wolf

A golden leaf fell from higher than any tree grows. Seven points it had, with an edge lined in red. Almost floating, it slowly spun, periodically fluttering on the wind, taking weeks to fall to the curved earth miles below.

A large grey wolf spent this time searching for a white rabbit running through the snow. The wolf would run at it's fastest, it's silver hair would streak back in straight lines with it's strands blurring into a tail like that of a shooting star. Thirty times the wolf ran, and thirty times the rabbit hid among the snow. In the wolf's haste he had lost sight and given himself away to the small wide eyed creature.

It was time for a change. Running now slower, the wolf could keep a better eye on the rabbit; and the rabbit was left with a worse eye for the wolf. It was only moments before the golden leaf would finally reach the earth, and the wolf too was moments from his well earned feast. The wolf, quickly jogging, could feel his fur sticking to his body rather than blurring behind him, swimming along the currents and subtle waves of wind.
If the wolf had been running his fastest, he would not have survived the impact. Moments before the capturing of the clueless rabbit, the golden leaf that had been traveling for weeks was blown into the face of the speeding grey wolf. Unlike an ordinary leaf which would have been pushed aside as easily as the air, this golden leaf was unmoved by the wolf's jogging plea to have any obstacles between itself and the rabbit removed by force, and the leaf held it's ground, or rather it's air. It continued to fall as though the wolf had never touched it and the wolf instantly stopped as if it had hit an invisible tree, then fell to the ground.
The leaf fell to the ground just in front of the wolf, melting the snow immediately around it. The leaf grabbed at the dirt, biting into it, and watched the world and the wolf as they slept for the winter. A few moments were spent by the wolf, trying to scratch the pain from his nose, but he slowly drifted into a dream; the dream lasted months. He dreamt of nothing but snow.

Though the cold white dream lingered, the snow had melted and the air was warm and filled with waves of green and brown by the time the wolf had woken up, and a tree now stood where the leaf had fallen. The wolf stood up to stretch. The strange lack of hunger had slipped from the wolf's mind and his first curiosity was to sniff the strange new tree who's branches hung long and thin, this tree who's wood and leaves shone brighter than any he had seen. The moment his nose touched the bark, a great vertical slit opened revealing a massive eyeball.

"Hello," a voice came from the the tree, though where it came from the wolf could not tell, "So wonderful to finally see you awake. I do apologize for our accidental collision, for you have suffered a greater blow than I."

It was unintentional, the jump back upon hearing the voice of tree, but the wolf now stood several feet away, like a stone, baring as many teeth as possible, staring into the enormous eye of the tree, who quite literally stood planted, staring right back with it's blank, seemingly emotionless eyeball.

"You needn't be afraid dear wolf," it sounded like multiple voices vibrating from the wood of the entire tree, all trilling through the air together, "I've dressed your wounds and filled your stomach."

Though the wolf's fear had begun to dampen, he still showed his teeth. Odd as the voice was, it seemed full of kindness, but the wolf hadn't planned on letting his guard down until he had an answer to the question: why?

"Why you wonder?" were the tree's next words, "as you can see," the great eyeball rolled to the left to look at it's greatest branch, which then began to move. The wolf took a few more involuntary steps away from the tree, "I can move my branches, I can see, I can think, I can feel the soft dirt between my long roots. On a sunny day I can even taste the sun, and the quenching refreshment that is the rain. We have much in common, but you have something I want, and I have something you may want in return." The tree's branches had limped to the ground, and it began to speak with a higher voice, "as I fell to Earth, miles through the sky, I saw a glimpse of the world: full, waiting to be seen, touched, heard, spoken to; but alas! I am rooted, stuck to my patch of soil, stuck to the fate my ancestors have given me. I ask you, wolf, trade with me our fates, roots for legs, and you'll never have to challenge any prey to dinner again. The very Earth will become both your prey, and my playground." There was a slight pause, "you wonder: without roots, how will this tree survive?" The branches of the tree slowly began to rise again, and the voice deepened "you needn't worry, I could catch anything, for I had caught you as just a leaf. I need only legs." There was a moment of silence, the voice of the tree continued, sounding less recited: "I know it was I who took your life, but it was I who gave it back to you. Those who tried to take you for a corpse, I fed to you. Now it's your turn, you owe me something in return for my kindness, and here I am asking you for a foot of yours for travel, four in the very least." The branches, now all pulled from the ground, began to creep towards the wolf.

The wolf, at the realization that he had closed his mouth, once again flared every tooth he had and used the simple tool of feet to retreat out of reach from the branches, which in the best word can only be described as creepy. To say it once more, the slowly moving branches truly creeped.

"No!" the voice from the tree now sounded uncertain and fearful, quiet and less trilling, though it remained calm, it spoke more quickly paced, "please, do not walk away. I need your feet. I need to see more than this forest. I need to see the world." The wolf had begun to walk away, the voice of the tree was fading with the distance, and with one last sentence spilled it's emotion, "I want to be free!" but the wolf had passed away from the tree.

The wolf began to walk, and began to think much on what had passed, and on the feeling that the large eyeball had set deep into the stomach of the wolf. Whether the feeling was guilt or a sense of unachievement the wolf could not tell, but the feeling persisted. The wolf continued to walk, and being lost in thoughts of pine cones and butterflies forgot he was walking, until he realized he was no longer in his forest.

This place the wolf had wandered to was unhindered by trees, and for the first time he was looking at the entire blue sky. Below, a great green field was cut by a small river feeding the grass, and in turn, the teeth of a herd. The wolf had never seen a herd like this before, white fluffy clouds with black legs, simply standing and chewing. He ran to the herd, but the herd ran from him. He didn't mind, he kept chasing the creatures enjoying the company, even if they didn't enjoy his.

There was one, where the rest would be white clouds on a sunny day, this dark cloud would bring thunder. Still fluffy, this one's fluff was black, and where the others ran, this one stood, staring off with a mouth full of grass. The wolf excitedly sniffed and did his best to say hello but the creature stood there indifferently. It suddenly shook itself, looked at the wolf for a moment, and began chewing the grass. At some point it turned away from the wolf and looked to it's distant flocked. The wolf kept walking.

Rolling on the grass, even trying a bite of the grass himself, the wolf began to truly appreciate what his feet had done for him. He glanced back at the forest, his home, then turned his head the other way to spot a mountain. What could be on the other side of the mountain? He proceeded to walk forward without a question in his mind; it was time to explore.

He walked for days, hunting a new type of food for each. Days kept going, and how many passed none could tell, but the wolf kept walking. Over the mountain, across a desert, through the deep places of the world and cities in the clouds. He swam across rivers, and stole away onto boats to cross the seas and oceans.

Each day brought a new sky. The ground smelled different, and the animals shone in colors he had never dreamt of. Some greeted him with kindness, while others tried to eat him. There were those who would ignore him while others ran away. One direction he went, never faltering from his forward line, and never turning around.

One day, upon looking at the sky, that familiar azure, smelling that sappy pine that defined the air of his home, and noticing how none looked at him as though he was out of place, and how nothing looked strange or new, he realized he had come back home. Things kept moving, growing, and dying while he was gone, and seeing everything back where he had left it all that time ago left the wolf with a displaced sense of time.

He came upon a tree, with a large vertical slit in it's side. Brown leaves were hanging on it's limp branches, even the top of the tree hung down to the side. The wolf walked up and the slit opened to reveal a large eyeball. The wolf felt vibrations as the tree saw him, and there was a low faint rumbling noise, but no words could be heard. The branches did not move and the wolf bared no teeth. His tail moved back and forth in excitement. A small hole, at the base and under the large eye of the tree was raised from the ground, revealing a small patch of soil directly where the tree stood. Holding a deep breath the wolf stepped into the hole, and the tree closed in around him.

With another deep breath, the wolf smelt his favourite smell: home. Between his wiggling roots he felt the soft airy ground. A small white rabbit hopped up to him, sniffed his face, and hopped away. After looking at the high flat clouds between the massive pines, the wolf closed his eyes as he began to drink the cold filtered sun through his greening fur.

Though he continued to grow, the wolf drifted off to sleep with a smile, and never woke up except by another.