The Council of the Winter King

Deep inside the forest, where the firs stood close together and the moss grew in soft rings, there was a clearing the animals called the Council Place. Every autumn, when the leaves began to yellow and the wind carried the scent of cold earth, all the animals gathered there. They came to choose who would keep watch all winter long while the others slept. It was an old custom, older than the oldest pines, and no one quite knew who had first thought of it. But every year, when the first hoarfrost settled on the leaves, the animals walked quietly through the forest toward the clearing.

This autumn the air was unusually still. The leaves fell without rustling, and the sky had taken on that deep blue colour that only comes just before winter. One by one, the animals stepped out of the forest. The fox with her bushy tail. The badger with heavy steps. The squirrels in a little cluster, whispering to one another. And high up on a branch sat an old owl called the Winter King, although she was in fact a she. It was she who led the council, and she had done so for fifty autumns.

When everyone had gathered, the owl spread her wings and spoke in a calm voice: 'Winter is coming. Soon the first snow will fall, and then most of us will close our eyes until spring. But someone must keep watch. Someone must listen for the sounds that do not belong in the forest. Who will be the watcher this year?' A long silence followed. Then the stag stepped forward. He was large and proud, with a crown of antlers that gleamed in the evening light. 'I will,' he said, and his voice rang like a bell.

'I have the sharpest eyes in all the forest,' said the stag. 'I can see a hare leap over a hill on the far side of the valley. I can see a fox slipping through the snow before he even notices it himself. No one keeps watch better than I do.' He stamped lightly with his hoof, and the hoarfrost crackled beneath it. The animals looked at him and nodded. It was true that the stag's eyes were sharp, and his pride felt almost like a warmth in the cold air. The owl looked down from her branch but said nothing.