Fern

            Bright eyes and tiny paws searched for seeds and small insects just beneath the soil in the dark, moist shadow of a giant mossy boulder behind the cover of the tree fringe.  Around and overhead the ostrich ferns with their round brown spores swayed in the lightest of cool breezes.  The chipmunk stuffed a tulip poplar seed into his already bulging cheeks.

            An ominous rustling in the canopy caused the russet creature to freeze.  Only his beady black eyes moved, tracing the path of a red-tailed hawk down between the close-knit branches.  The raptor coasted to a hop-skip stop, its talons tossing up leaves and clumps of moss.  It cocked its bronze head to one side, listening.

            Though frozen, the chipmunk knew the hawk heard the humming beat of his tiny heart.  Sure enough, it focused its amber eyes on his furry body in a matter of seconds.  The red-tail took a tottering step forward and the chipmunk shuddered with fear.  Something rumbled deep within the hawk’s chest and it opened its beak.  The chipmunk shrank back into the pine needles.

            “Where is the one of your kind they call Fern?” the red-tailed hawk shrilled.

            “I-I am,” he stuttered in his smallest voice.

            "Ahh. I am a messenger from the Forest Council, which requests your presence this evening in the Apple Swamp. Come when the evening star first lights the sky." With a thrust of her neck and a flick of her auburn tail she was aloft again and flapping up through the canopy. Fern stayed instinctively still for several minutes until a chill breeze from the top of the mountain ruffled the fur on the back of his neck.