The Muskwolf's Mane

When the obelisk had a hold on the whole of them, the group of travelers lucid enough to do so would often gather around in a rough circle. Many of them were bloody, beaten, or exhausted, seeking a moment of solace before they were called off again to preform some sort of tedium. And so, the kin arranged an unofficial event. If there was nothing of particular interest to chatter about, they'd tell each other stories, if only to hush the buzzing for a few moments. Cloy would come to listen while she recovered from her wounds, but she never thought up an idea if it came to her turn before she was off. Sure enough, it happened. She tried to back out, insisting that she would be better off hunting something, but the other kin were all too insistent

She took a few moments to think, hoping they would grow weary with her slowness, but she wasn't getting out of it that easy. Eventually, she spoke

"There was once a little Muskwolf. He was as proud as could be, but had the tiniest tail and the shortest legs. Most days, he'd strut around the world with his chest puffed out. But, whenever he came across another creature, he was filled with horrid jealousy. He was as impressive as a mouse compared to almost everyone he met and it filled him with fury. He'd bare his tiny needle-teeth and try to chase down anything more beautiful than he. Despite his stature, he could run fast as a flash. Even if the creatures he attacked tried to fight him off, he'd always get away with a great mouthful of their fur.

"The Muskwolf developed a collection of fur until he'd nearly picked the local animals clean. The creatures were, of course, angry with him. So, with the chill of autumn putting a warning into the air, they devised a plan. They'd go to his den to reclaim their pelts and, to keep him from nipping away at them, they'd weave brambles around themselves. The sympathetic birds helped with their talons, delicately twisting the thorns around the beasts' legs so that they all faced dangerously outwards. Then, with their armor, they went to confront him

"When the little Muskwolf saw the animals approaching, he laughed at them. He'd stolen their coats before and he'd do it again. This time he'd leave nothing behind. That'd teach them a lesson. But, when he dashed towards them, he found his mouth full of sharp spikes. The creatures advanced, heading towards the hole in the ground where he'd stashed his bounty. Though he tried his best, he couldn't fend them off. The brambles kept him at bay as he sprinted around, maw bloodied. Every creature took their turn, scooping their fur up from his stash while he was powerless to stop them

"Eventually, he was left panting and wounded. All the beasts had left his raided home. And, what was worse, they had found a way to keep him at bay. He'd been humiliated, his one claim to pride taken away. As he turned tail to sulk in his den, he made a discovery. Some tufts of the animals' coats had been left behind. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to give him an idea. Going to work with his tiny paws, the Muskwolf gleefully wove himself a collar. The fluffy ring fit perfectly around his neck, giving him an elegant ruff. He was delighted. Though he couldn't steal any more fur, he could now prance around with a reminder to all of when he had a hold on every creature. So strong was his pride that his kits, all sons, bore the same collar. From then on, every male Muskwolf had a mane to show the world how capable they truly were"