She ponders the question. "Well, we need another." She gestures to the wah. "You, Master Wizard?" she asks, and then gestures to the young girl in the fedora, "or you? I wouldn't dream of interrupting our two sweetlings, but perhaps even Endymon would favor us with a tale?"
Garanemu blinks at Sam. "Master Wizard?" he echoes. "I haven't been the master of anything since I left the school, so I'll have to decline the title. I may, however, have a story." He sits up a bit to be visible as he considers, flicking a paw over his nose and whiskers.
*****
It would have to be my first winter outside the school, I suppose. I'd travelled a great deal, following my nose, but I still hadn't come across anything like what I was hoping for. Now that I had decided to stick my nose back into the world, it seemed the world had very little to be sniffed and pawwed. I was so desperate that I took a ferry off the mainland. The weather was determindly pleasant without being particularly nice, if you understand me. Just good enough for traveling for a long time.
Anycase, winter finally decided I'd had enough monotony and I found myself in a terrible storm. It took only a finger-breadth of the sun's fall for the snow to threaten to bury small folk as myself. I was quite happy for a while, digging my way through. It was, in its way, fun, and my fur is thick and warm. However, it didn't take long before my nose couldn't seem to sniff through the frost and my paws tired. So, I looked for a tree where I could sleep the rest of the storm away.
I ran into one shortly and clambered up its trunk. Its branches were perfectly arranged for one such as myself. A saddle of trunk was sheltered by the older branches overhead. Only a dusting of snow brushed past with the wind. I tucked my nose under my tail and napped.
I woke up and discovered that the snow on my body was melting, leaving my fur unpleasantly damp. I was immediately aware of a change in my surroundings and peeked out over my tail. Whiteness covered the tree, my shelter from the storm, and more fell constantly, even under the stout branches that should have protected me. It didn't fall like snow, but fluttered down like birds dropping to roost. The wind was gone, leaving only the faintest breath of spring to coax the birds farther along. A deep breath told me all I needed to know. Somehow, spring had come to this tree while I had slept, and all its buds had blossomed and were even now falling about me. Scents of peace filled the air; not a trace of danger or hostility.
I stretched and took a moment to wipe the wet from my fur as I looked about. Outside the shelter of the tree's branches was a wall of blankness, a white without line nor shape. Inside, the petals fell without detracting from the blossoms on every hand and finger of my shelter. Already the thickness below looked enough to be lost in forever. The soft breath sighed over me, and I turned to face it, only to face the enchantress.
Ahh, (Garenemu sighs,) it could not startle me then. She was as a wah. The white of her ears and face was silver-strewn like the dappling of light on a pond. The dark of her rings and eyes was russet velvet, set off by a coat of campfire flame. Fire and silver, lakeside and sunset, snow and spring!
(After a moment of silence, the wah remembers that he is telling a story and looks sheepishly back at his audience. "Sorry," he rubs the back of an ear with a paw.)
She did not speak then, (he continues,) but helped me dry myself and brought me berries and wine. We sat together on the branches and were quietly merry. Bits of petals were in my cup and flavored the warm wine with kisses of bliss. Each berry was sweet as candy and sour as the bitterest seeds. Water leaves were the plates, as crisp and delicate as ever I have eaten before or since. In short, it was a time of paradise, as if I had been whisked away to Vishnu's palace and made his guest of honor.
Still, after pleasant hours slid away, my hostess did speak. Such tones she had, soothing to the ears as warm honey to the tongue. And she spoke thus:
"Here, the spring will last until the sun rises to touch the first branch. Then, the winter will return. I must away now, for I have duties to attend to. My master will miss me if I am gone any longer.
"Who I am is not important," she said to my opening mouth. "I do this every year upon this day. I bring goodness and comfort for a while to someone who is brave enough to dare these paths." And then, she darted down the tree, quick and lithely, and I thought I saw white upon her tail.
When the sun rose, the spring did leave, whisked away in an instant by the winter's wind. The petals were swept away from the branches to reveal snow underneath. However, with the sun's warmth to shield me, I was soon upon my way. It was only several days later I heard of this celebration called Christmas, and only then that I could count back the days to discover it was that day's eve when I found shelter in the lonesome tree.
*****
Garanemu finishes his tale and rests his chin on his paw. "To this day, whenever I drink warm wine or taste a fine berry, I think of her. She is the dream that life remembers."