Once upon a time, on a refreshing summer day, rain fell from the rolling slopes of gray that blanked the sun. Deep shades, nearly black, melded with lighter wisps of near white. Beads of dew gathered on the wide trunks, and clung to the frail stems of flowers, and weeds, and grasses. The occasional flash of lighting illuminated the spaces in between the dense trees.

Each drop from above fell with the weight to flick a leaf in its tree. The leaf's neighbors all flicked the same. Thunder drummed in the deep sky, but lulled into a calm of rattling. A forest full of the sound of flicking leaves soaked the air with music as the moisture soaked into the soil.

Smells of damp earth, wet flowers, and moist haze passed across all the residents of the forest. Cold from the summer shower chilled the hides, and caused shivers to shimmer through the furs. For the fortunate, dens and tree nooks gave refuge from the droplets. Many, however, braved the meadows, and fields, and rivers.

Water within the earth held to the paws of the lone otter that traipsed under the trees, and between the legs of a few deer. His focus was on the forward; his eyes searched intensely between roots, or under shelters of stone. When one lead failed, his slim, long body wiggled on to the next idea. He said nothing, and kept oblivious to others.

“Hello there, Otter.” A voice, warm, despite the chill, managed to stir awake the mustelid. It helped that a hoof appeared in the otter's path. Dipper looked up to the speaker with a dazed expression. A young buck watched him with the gentlest of smiles. “You are searching for something, aren't you?”

After a blink, and a shake of his head, Dipper nodded to the deer. “Hi. I'm looking for my friend Fable. Have you seen him?”

“Fable? Who is that?” The buck tilted his head as he gazed down at his guest.

It took a moment, as the rain dripped around them, for Dipper to think. “Um, the coyote named 'Nightcrier' by Charger. You do know him, don't you?”

Before the otter finished his question, the deer's eyes lit up and he nodded, though he seemed to focus on his thoughts. “Oh, I know Charger. He told me not to talk to that coyote. Is 'Fable' his human name?”

“We like having names that make more sense to us. I like being called 'Dipper.' Fable gave it to me!” said the otter with a beaming smile that lit the diffused forest. Then, it quickly vanished as the otter seemed to shrink into himself. “But, I haven't seen him in a few days. I miss him.”

“I'm sorry, Dipper. I haven't seen him. I'm not allowed to talk to him; Charger and others have told me he's dangerous.” Without meaning to, Dipper's tail swished violently and whipped the young buck's leg. Instantly, the deer jolted and jumped away. He gave a cry of alarm, and looked shocked at Dipper. “What was that for?!”

“Fable is a good friend! And he's not dangerous!” shouted the river otter. Before the buck could say anything more, the otter started to thump his tail. Dipper paid no attention to the deer's startled behavior. When the deer tried to step away, Dipper stomped the ground in front of the deer. The buck was just about to dash off when a strong voice sprouted from behind some far trees.

“Dipper! What are you doing?” asked Fable with a confused, authoritative tone. As if stung by the words, Dipper flinched, but perked up as he saw the coyote trot towards him.

“Fable! Are you okay?”

“Of course. What's going on?” The coyote looked to the buck. The adolescent stag grew much paler in the presence of the coyote. He stammered a moment, but spouted out his response.

“Your 'friend' attacked me!”

“Huh? No I didn't,” whimpered the otter. His voice dropped low, but soft. His head leaned lower than his shoulders as he looked up to Fable.

“You seemed pretty upset to me, Dipper.”

“He hit me with his tail!” The buck replied with a stoked rage. “Maybe I shouldn't talk to you two! I'm surprised you're not trying to make me your prey!”

“I didn't mean to hit you. I'm sorry.” A soft snort puffed from the deer's nostrils as he started to walk away. He muttered something that even the coyote's ears couldn't pick up. However, when the river otter started to approach the deer, Fable lightly pressed a paw to Dipper's back. The otter stopped and sat down. Fable gave a half smile, and a shrug. “I really didn't mean to hurt him. But he said you were dangerous.”

Fable shook out his wet fur before sitting down with Dipper. “They're holding another meeting tonight. I suppose I should go, huh?”

“If you go, I will.” The coyote smirked and nodded. “Though, I thought you avoided them because they didn't like you.”

“You heard what the deer said. The ferals are paranoid of me. If I ignore them, they will continue to only hear what Charger wants them to hear. When they see me, maybe they'll understand I'm not a threat.”

Dipper looked up at Fable, but said nothing. The rain started to slow, but the ground all around was saturated. It held a glossy sheen when the light touched it just right. The green leaves, and specks of colorful flowers gave the most color to the dreary day. Dipper looked around at it, as Fable surveyed the same forest.

“What's wrong?” asked the otter.

It took a long pause and a deep breath before the coyote could continue. “Can you see any colors, Dipper?”

“Where?”

“In the forest; in front of us.”

“Just probably what you see: the green leaves. There are a few petals around, but they aren't as bright as they should be.”

“I don't see them, Dipper. The colors, I mean.” Dipper watched Fable dip his head down. The canine examined a young aspen with its leaves trembling. His snout brushed the dew and sniffed at the leaf. A whimper escaped him.

“What does it look like if you can't see color?” whispered the otter.

“I don't know. Some things are brighter than others. The sky is brighter in some spots, but darker in others. Luster talks about colors. I don't know what they are, and it's frustrating. What color is this?”

“Green. Most tree leaves are green.” Dipper's voice was soft and he bumped the coyote's cheek.

“I always thought that was just a shade of darkness. But it looks different from brown or blue?”

“I like blue. It's pretty. The sky and water is blue.”

A ragged breath shuddered through the coyote's hide. He trembled onto his belly, into the moist soil. His chin settled on his paws as he stared at the aspen. Dipper slipped along his flank and nestled there. Fable's tail rested around the otter. The smile it gave Fable was bittersweet. His chest heaved with air.

“I wish I could see it.”

“Then why don't you?” Dipper tipped his head to look at Fable.

The coyote's eyes steered to the otter's, but his chin remained on his paw. “Huh?”

“Tonight, you can wish on a star. It worked for me.”

“Something like the this might be a little harder to wish for. I tried to wish for it the night you got your name. That's when I noticed something was wrong. Besides, you're not supposed to know what I wish for.”

Dipper's eyes lit up. His face drooped in disappointment. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault, Dipper. I don't even know if wishing helps.”

Above, a break in the clouds cast a beam of light onto the forest floor not far from them. Patches of flowers lit up with vibrant colors. Reds, purples, whites, and even blues dotted the lively green.

“What about your other stories, Fable? Could you wish with one of them?”

“I'm afraid there isn't anything I can do, Dipper.”

Sounds of the rain gave a calm setting to their surroundings. It kept the coyote from feeling overwhelmed with sadness. However, the gentle sounds were interrupted by the coyote's loud yelp of shock. Dipper was slamming his tail into the mud. The sludge coated the coyote and otter, even as the coyote stood up and favored his flank. “Dipper!”

The otter growled at Fable and shook his head. “How dare you give up! After some of the stories you've heard! They go on adventures to get what they want. They don't just wish. They do something. They try. You should too!”

“Dipper, I...” There was a deep, heavy sigh from the canine. His tail began to swish as a smile crossed his muzzle. He stepped to the otter and with a playful growl bopped the confused otter's head. “Sometimes, being upset and angry is needed.” Before Dipper could reply, Fable continued, “But you are right. I need to try. What else am I gonna do?”

“Can I help?” asked Dipper, swishing his tail. As Fable to began to walk, Dipper followed. The coyote walked casually through the trees, slow enough to give his shorter friend a gentle stride beside him.

“You have already. And I'd love any other help you give, Dipper. Thank you.”

“Where are we going now?”

“I suppose we're wish hunting! There are a lot of ways to make a wish: four-leaf clovers, magic lamps, throwing coins in a well are popular human ways.”

Dipper's eyes narrowed at the list. “Do you know what all those things are?”

“I know what a clover is.” The coyote grinned and held his head up proudly. Dipper smiled back and wiggled alongside the canine.

Clouds began to disperse, and light bled into the forest. A warm yellow glow hovered between the branches and trunks. Still, the fresh smell lingered all around. The ground caked their paws in mud, and they were glad when they reached a river to wade through.

“Are we going to hunt for clovers, then?” Dipper splashed about in the water. He did a roll and chittered to himself. Fable simply laid down at the gravely bank. The water was cold, but a sharp refreshment.

The cold had no effect on the otter. He was in, between the banks, when a good sized trout nearly tackled the mammal. The otter managed to twist and snag the fish in a powerful grapple. Fable stood to help, but had no time to act before the triumphant hunter dragged his catch out of the water. It slapped and fought, but there was no use in the struggle.

Fable saw the focus in Dipper's pupils. They lit up once his hunt was finished, and he was victorious. He rested a sandy paw on the catch as he grinned up at Fable. “Look! Did you see that?”

“Nice catch! I guess you have your lunch.”

“Don't you want any?”

“I'll get my own, Otter. Besides, you're helping me enough.” Fable leaned down and nuzzled Dipper's head.

“Fable? Why don't you hunt like the other ferals? You don't attack me, Luster, or even the deer.”

The coyote winced at the thought. His shoulders shrugged up as he thought about it, himself. “I never really liked the idea. Eating ferals makes me feel ill. Besides, I rather share stories with them. I still hunt the dull-eyed animals.” Dipper just nodded.

“You sure you don't want any fish?” Fable shook his head, and Dipper turned his attention to his meal.

The coyote, however, looked up from the bank, into the trees. His ears flicked and he casually sniffed the air. There was a strong smell of fish covering the rainfall, but there was also something more. Rustling was definitely coming from behind some trees. “I'm going to head down along the bank to look for clovers.”

It was a slow pace, both to give Dipper time, but also to make sure he was thorough. Without the sight of color, the vegetation blended with the earth. Under a tree, where light soaked the moist ground, a patch of clovers huddled together and conjoined their leaves. A sharp growl escaped the coyote as his awkward paws tried to shift through the delicate plants.

More rustling came from the trees, nearby, but the coyote didn't care any. Sniffing didn't do anything to help, and his eyes were all jumbled up. Still, he foraged through the mess. All of them were three, unless he accidentally crushed one into a two-leaf clover. The edge of his nerves were about frayed when the canine's eyes locked onto a clover. A yelp of excitement escaped him as he parted the area as best he could. With delicate, but clumsy, skill, the coyote clipped his fangs around a small cluster. When he pulled, he was given a small mouthful of dirt and clover. He grimaced and held his tongue out just as Dipper appeared.

“I didn't know you liked to eat clovers,” said Dipper, surprised.

Not wanting to talk with his tongue out, Fable whimpered and tried to present his tongue to the otter. Dipper then spotted it, and used his more dexterous paws to retrieve the clover. Fable immediately spit the rest before observing the clover.

“Four leaves! I found one!” His eyes clenched shut and he started whispering to himself. It was the same plea, over and over. With excitement, he flared open his eyes and looked into Dipper's.

His muzzle sagged into dismay and he shook his head. Dipper stepped forward and nuzzled up at Fable. “Maybe we need more clovers.”

“Maybe.” Fable forced a smile, and swished his tail back and forth. He let free a deep breath. “You know what? I probably should go ask Baum.”

“Who?”

The swing in the coyote's tail swung a bit quicker, and the smile became more genuine. He got on his paws and started to lead the two through the forest. “I went to humans' barn a few days ago with Luster. There was a feral horse named 'Baum.'”

Dipper's jaw dropped as he kept up with the coyote. “Charger is going to be so mad if he finds out you went there. Have you been there before?”

“I don't care about Charger. And, no. I had Luster with me; felt braver having her company. Don't tell her that, though. Anyway, Baum is really nice, and he told me he'd listen to some human stories for me.”

“That's very nice of him. Do you have to do anything back?”

“Just keep him company. Though, I haven't seen him since. I'll have to go tomorrow!”

Dipper stopped. His tail slinked under his body and he looked up to Fable. “I don't think I want to go there.”

Fable stopped a few paces ahead. He chuckled and nodded. “It'd be dangerous, anyway. The humans are after a night predator that is attacking their sheep. I think it's a wolf pack on the other side of the human areas.”

“Why do you think wolves?”

“I met a feral one after I left the horses.” Fable nodded to Dipper, and the two began their stroll, again. A snap of a twig echoed through the trees. Dipper jumped and leaned against Fable. Fable sniffed the air in the direction of the sound, then continued. He nudged at Dipper, encouraging the otter forward. “He warned me to be careful around there. I'm always careful, though.”

Despite the chuckle and playful nudge, Dipper couldn't help but walk with a nervousness. He glanced back towards the snap, and stayed closer to the coyote. “What was that?” he whispered, timidly.

“Don't worry about it. Come on! The sun is coming out. The storm clouds with the mountains will look beautiful in the meadow.”

Dipper, however, stopped. “Something about it is familiar. Do you smell that?” A fluffy tail swatted at the back of Dipper's head. “Hey!”

“It's nothing! Come on.” Fable grinned and swished his tail, playfully. But Dipper was not convinced. He dashed, as best as he could, to a seemingly random spot. Short legs carried the mustelid quickly around the trees. Fable did his best to catch the otter, but it was no use. With a jubilant “ah-ha!” by Dipper, the young buck was discovered.

It didn't seem to matter, or register, with the deer that Dipper began to apologize, or that Fable approached with a friendly smile. It backed up, and nearly stumbled over itself. “Leave me alone!” he called out.

With as gentle a tone as he could muster, Fable whimpered at the deer. “Please calm down. We don't want to bother you.”

“Leave you alone? But you keep being around me,” said Dipper, casually. Fable then dropped his tail over Dipper's face. “But.. he is,” he whined.

The buck held onto his pout. His eyes glared between the two, but the coyote didn't attack, and the otter was busy trying to keep coyote fur out of his face. With reluctance, the young male had to fess up. “I'm sorry. I don't mean to bother you two.”

“You aren't. What's your name?”

Another scowl, and a scoff put the deer in another defensive posture. He frowned and shook his head. “I don't want one of your human names! They make no sense.”

“But my name comes from the stars, cause I like looking at them. And Fable's comes from... somewhere!”

“A fable is another word for 'story,' Dipper.” The coyote chuckled and grinned. His tail remained draped over Dipper's head. “And we will call you by your birth name if you prefer. We just need to know what it is.”

The buck seemed lost for words, or actions, or even thoughts. Finally, something changed in him. His breathing relaxed, his muscles slacked. “Starflank.”

“Starflank is your name? You sound embarrassed by it.”

“I don't want to change it,” he said in the tone of a plea. The buck twisted himself and showed his flank. The cluster of white spots, seen on a fawn, covered the adolescent's hide. “But, yeah.”

Suddenly, deep in the woods, a shrill below echoed loud enough for most of the forest to hear. The clouds were still thick in the sky, but the patches of visibility revealed a bit of yellow mixed with the blue. Though, of course, Fable was unable to see the colors.

“It's getting late, but Charger is calling awfully early,” said Starflank, confused.

“He's not even waiting for the cover of darkness. He broke his own rule.”

“We should go,” warned Starflank. Without another word, the deer bolted into the trees without the others. Despite the coyote's protest, Starflank was gone.

“You wanted to go, right?” asked Dipper.

“Yeah, I do. Though, I thought I'd have more time to prepare.”

The otter hugged at the coyote's foreleg. Fable nuzzled Dipper and smiled. “We better go. I'm sure others will be quicker getting there and make us look late!... Unless you don't wish to come?”

“I will later. Do you mind if I go do some other stuff first?” Fable smiled and shook his head. Dipper hugged, again, before he slipped away.

Droplets fell from the rain soaked leaves. The coyote gave a thorough shake of his fur to make it as dry as possible before he casually followed the long vanished deer. His pace was a quick trot, but steady and calm, as well. Warm and energizing, the sun was at a slight tilt in the sky. Gray fur shuddered around the coyote's back.

Without warning, a long yawn erupted from Fable's muzzle. He blinked, and nearly missed the avian shadow that floated above. Quick flutters preceded a sudden weight on the coyote's back. Talons lightly bit into his fur and caused him to stiffen.

“Hello, Fable. I trust you heard the call? Charger isn't happy with you,” taunted the raven. Luster held a soft grin in her beak.

“Am I the reason for it being early? I swear I've been behaving!”

“It's difficult causing mischief while holed up in sorrow, coyote. I know one lonely otter that has been hunting for you.”

“He found me. And I'm doing fine. Do you know what Charger is upset with?”

“He heard about us at the barn. Have you been a barking dog, blabbering our tales?”

“Only to Dipper and a curious young buck. But neither had a chance to tell Charger since I told them.”

“Oh really? You can be sure of this? And I, as well? Dipper wouldn't tell, but the buck is trustworthy?”

“More that he was with me the whole time. He had no chance of telling the elk.”

Luster nodded and turned her head up at the sky. “Perhaps the silent, serrated wings of another avian simply happened to hear you.”

Fable looked up as well, but spotted nothing. Grey and tones of grey with the variants of white and black formed the shapes of trees, and clouds, and some birds. None of them, however, were likely ferals. “Serrated? What do you mean?”

“You need to hear more stories, Fable.”

“Aww, I'm glad you condone it!” At that, a sharp caw escaped the bird. She pecked his ear and shook her head.

“Tricky coyote. Take us to Charger.”

Fable took a harder trot through the trees with the raven still on his back. The black feathers settled against the grey, rust, and black fur. Though, the hike through the woods was just as silent as if he had been alone. Another bugle sounded, impatient and angry. It was much louder and closer.

“I suppose he sent you to fetch me?” he asked his companion.

“Yes. It was luck finding you. Though, I didn't think you'd be far from your den. Do you think humans will bother us this evening?” The sun was approaching the rim of the mountains' peaks.

“I don't think so. After the rain and with the sun going down, the humans will just eat and stay at their tents.”

“What of the rangers?”

“Maybe. Charger's call might make them curious, but they try to let us be alone.”

Wide trees parted around a clearing in the distance. Already, the voices of familiar ferals met the ears of the two friends. Then, a much heavier, assertive voice rang like lightning through the crowd. “And why were you talking to him?”

A tender voice stuttered an answer, “He approached me! It-it wasn't my fault.”

“He searched you out? Was he telling one of his stories?” Charger's voice was as tall as his posture. Even without any malice in his tone, the air was overwhelming around Charger; the strong, violent rays of the dying sun behind him. Enlightened sounds came from Luster, but Fable was ready to enter the clearing. Gentle knocks from her beak paused the coyote.

“Yes! No... well-” Ripples of voices spread around the clearing by the other animals. Fable noticed the young buck's eyes were drawn to a doe with a worried expression. “I'm sorry Charger. I don't think he wanted to hurt me.”

Deep bellows fell upon the young deer. Broad elk shoulders ruffled. His voice was heavy and bold, but not so full of rage. “Starflank, right?”

“Yes, sir. I think I should say that it was Dipper that found me both times.” Almost instantly the deer bit his tongue to try and keep his words from ruining him. However, he just caused tears in his eyes from the bite.

“Both? And who is this Dipper?”

“The otter Fable is friends with.”

Charger then bent his ear back to hear the owl that roosted on his crown. It struck Fable that he just now noticed the owl. He waited in the trees to listen, though Luster seemed reluctant when Fable nudged the raven off his back. The same heavy voice of Charger returned,“you mean the otter Sandpaw?”

No answer came from Starflank. His shoulders bounced with a meager shrug. “They were talking about wishes. Fable was sad and Dipper wanted Fable to wish for something to make him happy. I tried to leave the first time we talked, but I stayed close. I was curious. Then Dipper caught me following them.”

“And what was he wishing for?”

“I don't know.” Fable's muscles dropped their tension and he breathed heavily. He felt Luster's posture tilt. Her eyes were on him, he knew.

“Are you sure?”

Starflank looked at Charger, then to Oakclaw. A much softer “yes” answered, but the owl nipped Charger's ear. Another look was exchanged between the doe and young buck. Dense shadows shrouded the deer while golden light formed the silhouette of the proud bull elk.

“Is this really necessary?” scoffed a raccoon. Hearing a new voice seemed to cause a moment of confusion for the deer and stag, as well as Fable and Luster. “He's just a boy, Charger. And does it matter what Nightcrier was up to? He didn't bring Starflank into it.”

“It matters, because Nightcrier's stories could cause problems between the humans and animals. They're risky and causing ferals to act like fools! If humans notice us, what will happen?”

“You're holding a meeting at twilight,” said the raccoon. “That's plenty risky in itself.”

Charger snorted and tilted his head up. “We have scouts watching for rangers or hikers. The storm should have kept them all in their shelters.” After a rude snort, he turned back to Starflank. “Well?”

Finally a soft peck probed at Fable's shoulder. “If you wish to be the hero, coyote, your damsel needs you now.”

“I know.” It took the air from his lungs to say that. But as the deer stuttered and thought, the coyote emerged from out of the woods. He found a patch in the shade, away from the blinding light, to look up at the elk that looked back at him.

“Ah, Fable. It's about time you joined us,” said the elk with a smirk. Starflank ducked his head down as he saw the canine. Fable returned a look with a frail smile.

“So what's all this about Charger? Calling on us early this evening, aren't you?”

“It concerns you. Word-”

“Of course it does, Charger. You seem quite fixated on my hobbies. Now why are you interrogating poor Starflank here?”

“I've been talking with Starflank because you were talking to him about your stories!”

“He was free to leave any time. In fact, he did. Though I can't blame him for being curious and following us. There is nothing wrong with stories, Charger. Knowing them doesn't cause problems.”

“It influences ferals to get into trouble! Maybe hearing stories isn't dangerous, but going looking for them is! Of course, this is only partly why I've called a summoning.” Fable raised a brow and settled down. Charger faced the others as well. “Word has it that you were at the stables, Nightcrier?”

“Fable, and yes. I visited the horses. They're going to share stories they hear from the humans.”

“I suppose you haven't heard of the livestock that are being taken from there? And while we're on it, wasn't there another one with you? Where is Luster?”

Fable shrugged, though he tilted his head and flicked his tail about. “Are you hinting at something, Charger?”

“No. I know you weren't after the barn's animals, Nightcrier. A colony of wolves was brought to the forest by humans. I believe it's them. But if you had been spotted there and seen coming back to the park and forest? If you wish to return to the stables, perhaps you should find a den near the wolves.”

Fable stood and growled. “If they're aggressive enough to attack livestock, they'll kill me for being competition!”

“Perhaps. But if you think you can put the forest at risk, then you are a fool. Either abandon the stables, or leave the forest. And let this be a lesson!” he bellowed as his attention fell on Starflank. “That pursuing stories can come at a cost!” With his voice heard, and the rumbles of the ferals rising, Charger puffed his chest out. Oakclaw continued to scout and advise from his crow. Fable gave a huff and began to leave. “We still have a full meeting, Nightcrier. I urge you to stay. For your safety, of course!”

The tone in those words bristled the coyote's tail. Determined to leave, he ignored them and approached Luster. She emerged from the trees and settled on Fable. Starflank suddenly dashed after the coyote.

“Starflank!” roared the elk. Neither the deer, nor anyone else of the departing party acknowledged the bull. They vanished into the forest without any more part of the council.

Once far enough away, Luster rattled on Fable's head. “Wait for the boy.” Fable sighed heavily, but followed his friend's advice. He stopped and looked at the buck.

“You shouldn't leave,” said Starflank. The deer approached shyly. “I'm sorry I got you in trouble, but I hope you don't leave, Nightcrier.”

A bitter smile slipped across the canine muzzle. “Call me 'Fable,' Starflank.”

In response, the buck scowled and shook his head. “I hate that name. I'm a grown stag! These white spots were supposed to go away ages ago.”

“Perhaps you'd like another name? I gave Dipper his,” offered the coyote. A sharp peck hit his shoulder and made him yelp. “Luster!”

“Do not get the boy into your coyote trouble.”

Fable swished his tail and shrugged. “Something tells me that he's
not angry about me going to the stables so much, but it was an
excuse. If it becomes a problem, I'll do something. Right now, I
wanna observe that elk.”

Luster nodded and cawed. “Yes, yes. There is something else, but be
delicate in your mischief, coyote. You are his target now, as am I!”

“I told you you could leave!” The swishing tail became a wag. A tilt
and a bump knocked the bird off her perch. Fable gave a sloppy, wet,
lick to the raven. She cawed and fluttered away, but not far. She
was prepared to reprimand the canine, but was interrupted by a sound
of shuffling from behind a tree. A large strip of bark was being
dragged through the ground by an otter.

“What are you doing Dipper?” growled the raven. His ears perked and
he steered his way toward the other three. Fable couldn't help but
laugh when he saw the pile of green on the bit of bark. The coyote
stepped up and nuzzled the otter.

“Hi, Fable. Hi, Luster,” breathed the otter. “I'm getting more
four-leaved clovers for Fable. His wish didn't work so I got more.
Maybe it's more wishful.”

“I hope it works,” said the deer, shyly.

Luster looked at the smiling coyote and the optimistic otter. She
let out a deep sigh and shook her head. “Dear Fable, you confuse
your stories. Clovers are for luck. Not wishing.”

Instantly, the coyote's ears pinned down. Dipper, too, seemed down at
the news. He looked to Fable and the coyote shrugged.

“I guess I'll have to find another way to wish.”

“And what are you wishing for?”

Fable sighed as he stared into the ground. “I can't see colors. And
I really want to.”

It seemed slow to enter Luster's mind, but she walked and gave an
awkward winged hug to the coyote. “Like in the magazine I showed
you? I'm sorry, Fable.”

“What are the other ways to make wishes?” asked Starflank. Luster
retained a sadness in her, but she saw the coyote's tail swish.

“I don't know. But that just means I have to search for more
stories!”

Dipper's tail swished and he nearly bounced. “Can we go listen to
the human's stories? The sun is almost down!”

Fable nodded and nudged the otter. “I don't suppose you two are
coming?”

“Ah! No. Starflank and I are going to be safe and sane tonight! But
you two have your fun.” The stag seemed saddened that he couldn't
go, but Fable also noticed a bit of relief.

“But while you two are there, can you maybe find me a name, too?”
asked the deer.

“Sure thing!”

Starflank smiled and vanished into the forest on his own. The coyote
and otter dashed off together towards the human camps, each trying
not to lose the other. Luster, however, remained in the clearing.
She flew herself onto a branch and waited there to watch the two
friends cross the field toward the scattered flames that sprouted
around the grounds.

“Keep searching, coyote,” she said. “Such a
humble wish to enjoy color. I have no doubt it will come true.”