Extra steps

It was the sort of imagery an artist dreams of when their easel is starved; Lush foliage parting just enough for a chance encounter of the wild kind. Sitting in the center of a small clearing was a coyote, his expression that of a man holding back from laughing. Atop his head sat a small black bird, a raven, gazing alternatively between the top of the canine's head and forward into the tree line, following the dog's gaze. Peeking his head out from behind his camouflage was the visage of a small fox, peering around the side of a tree at them both with all the timidness of a small child on a playground.

"I'm flattered you have come such a long way to meet with someone as remarkably unremarkable as myself, I'm not sure I've got what you're looking for, friend." Cunning Fool squinted those happy eyes at the fox, searching over him as he emerged. "I don't mistake your tale for lies, but I do not see a mark or tattoo about you that I could use to verify the veracity of your claims."

The fox's ears lay back, as if saddened or disappointed as the familiar knock of a bird's beak beat into the top of the coyote's head.

"You don't speak for us both, you know," she squawked, tilting her head this way and that. "I've read enough to know enough to know he matches his word." She jabbed at him lightly again, for good measure.

"Why, you keep secrets from even me?" The coyote feigned shock and betrayal, lifting a paw to his maw as if recovering from a surprise.

"You didn't ask."

"I shouldn't need to, are we not partners roaming?"

To his fine credit, the fox watched the two bicker with the muteness of a mouse.

"Well, if my fine feathered friend finds you fit, I can't say I wouldn't mind some new company in our travels. I'm sure you have plenty to show me, plenty to teach, lots of new things my old fool brain doesn't and couldn't know. It's fortunate you sought us out, I was just beginning to think I'd finally seen everything."

The fox, to his credit, looked confused. He spoke with a degree of timidity matching his prior poise. "I beg your pardon, One-Of-One-Hundred, but it is I who is seeking to learn from you. I am sorry if I spoke mistakenly previous, I admittedly am-"

"Nonsense, He Of Long And Hard To Say Names. My stories are all very long and boring, full of impossible heroics and legendary deeds that no chronicle records and none of Luna or Gaia could ever know truthful, save for maybe a set of paws and pair of wings. Sending you back to your Court to spin stories of a coyote who is nearly two hundred years old and formerly of a Garu pack with a White Howler would simply make you look like more of a fool than I am."

The coyote grinned his ever-smiling grin, his eyes taking in the sight of the fox opposite him. Sure, his history was based in half-truths and partial lies but it was all witnessed by at least one other among them. The fox watched in a sort of half-awed expression despite himself, his youthfulness evident in the way his eyes dared imagine the rest of the strings Cunning Fool cast out before him.

There was a brief silence between them as the fox tried to figure out if he was being dejected or not, given the response. Cunning Fool spoke after blinking.

"You are welcome to travel with us, and observe. I warn you, though, foreign friend, that none of the things we shall see or do will be fit for retelling. Not that anyone would believe you, anyway."

The bird pecked twice and the coyote stood wearily, blinking again at his guest and turning to continue on the path they had previously been striking out on. The fox, not quite sure what transpired before him, allowed himself to fall into a small trot to join by his side.