“It’s beautiful. One of your best so far.”
“Thanks.” Said the old fox, carefully placing a red-brown pebble on the sigil.
“How many of these do you have to do?”
“As many as I can or as many as it takes.”
“Must you always answer in riddles?” Asked the wise owl, rolling her big eyes.
“They’re not riddles, just slightly non-contextualized answers.” Replied the fox with a sly grin.
The owl flapped to a lower branch to take a closer look at the fox’s latest magic circle.
“Why don’t you ever sign them?”
“Well, so that everyone knows you made them, for example?”
“Anyone I care already knows I made them.”
“Dude, you could be famous. Folks would talk about you and your art long after you’re gone.”
The fox looked at his friend with a puzzled expression for a moment.
“I’ve always wondered why everybody seems so anxious to go out in some spectacular way. Too melodramatic for my taste.”
“Maybe they want to be remembered, leave a legacy.”
“The only legacy I’ll leave will be a bunch of old bones, a lot of fur and, if I’ve managed to live at least a fairly decent life, the memories in the heart of my friends.”
“But all these beautiful things you’ve created…”
“They’ve never been about me, they are about this forest and the people I love who live in it.”
“You’ve made them all for us?”
“For you to enjoy and, if you really like them, keep them and this forest alive even if without me.”
“You’re making me tear out!”
“And you’re blocking the light on the circle, it totally kills the colors.”
“Oh you silly fox.”
“You know I’m just teasing you.”
“You really don’t care about being remembered, do you?”
“I know you will.”
“Some legacy that’ll be.”
“As long as those I care remember me, I’d much rather go out with a sweet whisper than with an empty bang.”
Just then, the sun hit the bits of glass at the center of the circle, bathing them and the forest in the colors of the rainbow.