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The Star Socks Fox

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Star Socks Fox

He began as a pair of socks, cobalt with gold stars, this fox.
He was worn and washed, washed until he was well worn.
Then one day, a hand sorted him into the feared donate box.
From his home, his drawer, safe and warm, he was torn.

Into a pile, a jumbled mess he was dumped, lumped—lost.
Parted from the mismatched Banana Stripe and Troll with Hole.
Into a bin of all colours and sorts, the Star Socks were tossed,
and he watched as Troll with Hole became the prize a rat stole.

Star quivered, quavered, quaked—Would he share Troll’s fate?
Then he felt it, a small hand gripped him tight. Up, up—away!
A crinkled wrinkle crackled about him, his only option: Wait.
The world moved; light blurred. Laughter! A child at play—

Out of the crinkle, onto a table its wood smooth and mellow.
A sock separated from his fellow, Star divided in order to begin.
A flash of silver, an ominous snick sliced clean blue to yellow.
Star divided, beside him waited a frayed grey and cream cardigan.

The cardigan gave a feeble wave as it, too, was taken away.
Then came Star’s turn, that small hand reached—Star going.
A silver brightness loomed, bit, snipped—Star began to pray
as a dim light glowed and Star became a creature of sewing.

The fray of grey was now his tummy, sleek and plump.
His twin, a tail and hind feet, toes with a tippet of white—
And Star now had two button eyes, paws, and a rump.
He was Star Socks Fox—Clever, courageous and bright…

A hand of fate, a child at play, what it was no one has been able to say…


Star Socks Fox and the Tide Swans

Ebb and Flow, in the deepest heart of the Bone Garden, they dwell, the Tide Swans of Day and Night.
Their pool, deep and wide, edged in the gloam of the Firefly Tide, protected by a Clockwork Cock.
A Wendigo creeping, the Star Socks Fox across the Tide, leaping, seeking to stymie the seeping blight.

Tippets gripping, Star Sock Fox a comet’s tail, bright, bounding headlong, keeping the beast in sight.
And that Wendigo, it sensed the Guardian closing fast, knew that this was the fabled, cunning Star Fox.
Ebb and Flow, in the deepest heart of the Bone Garden, they dwell, the Tide Swans of Day and Night.

A creature of humble origins, yes, but he, Star Socks Fox, was a Guardian, made of love and light.
He carried the stars, the heavens in his pelt of cobalt and silvered gold; he was no simple, lowly sock.
A Wendigo creeping, the Star Socks Fox across the Tide, leaping, seeking to stymie the seeping blight.

Ahead lay the moonglade, o’er which Lore and Star had raced, now, the Wendigo to it was pressing tight.
Star Socks Fox, his tippets reaching far, his lush tail sweeping, kept the secret of the Clockwork Cock.
Ebb and Flow, in the deepest heart of the Bone Garden, they dwell, the Tide Swans of Day and Night.

Flying as fast as his tippets could touch, he was a shooting star, a comet, streaking, a Harbinger of Light.
For the Wendigo could not be allowed to reach the beating heart of the Ways, that Clockwork Cock, a lock.
A Wendigo creeping, the Star Socks Fox across the Tide, leaping, seeking to stymie the seeping blight.

In a burst of speed, Star’s tippets lifted free, a comet in flight, he leapt onward, trying with all his might.
Little by little, gaining ground, he crept up, each leap and bound, and the Wendigo found the path blocked.
Ebb and Flow, in the deepest heart of the Bone Garden, they dwell, the Tide Swans of Day and Night.
A Wendigo creeping, the Star Socks Fox across the Tide, leaping, seeking to stymie the seeping blight.




Star Socks Fox and the Wendigo

Star Socks Fox, a compass bright; by the stars and constellations in his pelt, the path was charted.
Star Fox, a limned comet roaring, tippets gripping, soared top o’er tail, leaping from a tidal swell.
Noble Star stood his ground, staring the Wendigo down; the war for the Strangeways now started.

In the depths of Bone Garden, the Wendigo’s siege of the Clockwork Cock, Star Socks Fox thwarted.
With snapping teeth and argent blazing, Star shone, glowing, he charged, giving the Dreamslayer hell.
Star Socks Fox, a compass bright; by the stars and constellations in his pelt, the path was charted.

The Wendigo bellowed flesh rent from his bones, how by this lowly creature had he been outsmarted?
Yet rage is a dire thing, giving the beast strength anew; antlers bore down, foolhardy Star Socks Fox fell.
Noble Star stood his ground, staring the Wendigo down; the war for the Strangeways now started.

Into the plinth of the Clockwork Cock, Star flew; the Cock upon the stones was dashed, fractured art.
The lock broken, the pool of the Tide Swans opened, lighted by firefly gloam in the shadow of a well.
Star Socks Fox, a compass bright; by the stars and constellations in his pelt, the path was charted.

Wendigo for Flow was reaching, Star Fox awoke and into the path of the beast he went whole hearted.
Magic coiled, calling to the heavens, a constellation to rise, bihorned and coven, yet not a beast of hell.
Noble Star stood his ground, staring the Wendigo down; the war for the Strangeways now started.

Harbinger, the Bicorn, freed by Violet Bright, his golden eyes alight, sought to see the Wendigo thwarted.
Star, surged, forcing the Tide Swans into flight, while mighty Harbinger pinned the beast against the well.
Star Socks Fox, a compass bright; by the stars and constellations in his pelt, the path was charted.
Noble Star stood his ground, staring the Wendigo down; the war for the Strangeways now started.




Secret of the Star Socks Fox

Star Fox, a hymn among the constellations praying, waking the legends—truth set free.
Harbinger, a Bicorn unbound, charged the Wendigo down, starlight kissing upon his back.
Righteous fury, purest hate in antler and bone collide, the Wendigo fallen upon his knees.

Crowning glories, antler and bone entwined, in a knelling that shook the Ways to the sea.
Tendriled fingers reaching for an eye, Star Fox snapping; the glutton, bleeding vile black.
Star Fox, a hymn among the constellations praying, waking the legends—truth set free.

The Wendigo, raging, feeding on spite, sought to snatch the fox with coat of night and flee.
The Tide Swans were soaring, his fury roaring, a plan thwarted, the Wendigo changing tack.
Righteous fury, purest hate in antler and bone collide, the Wendigo fallen upon his knees.

Two hands creeping up, the Wendigo coiling down, but the Star Socks Fox, he was the key.
Hand to horn, the beast sprang, as hate through sinew flowed, shoving the Harbinger back.
Star Fox, a hymn among the constellations praying, waking the legends—truth set free.

The Wendigo loosed, in a flash, against the well Star was dashed, falling, still as could be.
Harbinger came about, as with Star Fox the Wendigo dove into the tide pool of seeping black.
Righteous fury, purest hate in antler and bone collide, the Wendigo fallen upon his knees.

Starlight winkled in the night dark void, a compass true, a path to the Toxic White Selkie.
The Star Fox clutched tight, hidden by the gloam of the Tide, the Wendigo was on track.
Star Fox, a hymn among the constellations praying, waking the legends—truth set free.
Righteous fury, purest hate in antler and bone collide, the Wendigo fallen upon his knees.




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