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# The Two Travelers from Metropolis
2024-10-13
> Context: Last semester I took Prof. Laura Okkema's [GERMAN
> 386](../umich/w24_fairy.md). She then invited me to her creative writing
> workshop, and this week we're working on fairy tales. So while we're at
> it, why not write a furry tale?
Once upon a time, there was a gray wolf called Leon and a black cat called
Mos who, after years of living in the metropolis they were born in,
decided it was not for them. They wandered the land in search for a place
that would accept them, and that’s where they would live. As the sun
touched the horizon they finally arrived at a city, where they were
greeted by an old bear.
“Welcome, visitors! Say, your clothes look dashing!” Indeed, they were
made of fabric weaved only in the metropolis.
“Thank you sir,” replied Mos. “Could you show us the way to a hotel? Leon
and I need a good night’s rest.”
“You see, gentlemen, I own the inn right there; it is a good place to get
some peace.” As they walked down the street, no one could look away from
the travelers’ clothes. They wanted to know what other treasure the
travelers have brought along. Leon and Mos were flattered, and promised
they would share them with everyone. But they could hardly keep their
eyelids up, so they retired to their room and fell asleep.
As the bell tower struck twelve, a shadow unlatched the travelers’ door.
He pinched Mos by the back of his neck so he could not move, then tied
Leon’s snout shut so he could not bite. Both of them felt a sharp blow on
the back of their heads, and the next thing they knew, they were stripped
naked and thrown into the river. The ice cold water washed them
downstream, until a fallen trunk caught them just outside of the city
walls.
“Those robbers took our clothes and luggage,” Leon waved his fist. “You
cursed dog, our blood shall cry out for vengeance!”
“They tried to take our lives as well; I’m just glad we’re both alive.
Let’s dry ourselves, and find somewhere to sleep.”
Clearly the city wouldn’t accept them. Leon and Mos must find another
place.
In the morning, they were surprised to find their bag caught by the trunk,
but the valuables had been removed. All that’s left was some plain
clothes, which they put on immediately. They abandoned the bag before they
set out again.
Just as the sun lost its glow to the distant hills, the two travelers came
across a town. The mayor, a spotted cheetah, welcomed them to her house,
where she had invited a couple guests. The travelers didn’t seem any
different in their plain clothing.
“Say, dear travelers, what do you think of our town?” asked a middle-aged
fox, wearing a cook’s hat.
“Oh, it is lovely!” replied Leon. “Except I notice many houses in bad
condition, while the mayor’s seems new. Mos, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, I believe the citizens deserve better housing.”
The atmosphere grew intense as the mayor laid down her fork. “Well, young
travelers from the metropolis, don’t you find it condescending? The king
orders his servants to do charity, while he does not spare a penny.”
“Your words have offended our beloved mayor and us citizens,” the fox
remarked as he forced a cup of poisoned wine down their throat. The
travelers soon laid on the floor.
As Mos woke up in the morning, he was shocked to find that he had lost his
voice. Leon, too, was trying to howl in vain. They rushed outside, only to
be ignored by the townsfolk like ghosts. They ran as fast as they could,
until the town was out of sight.
Clearly the town wouldn’t accept them. Leon and Mos must find another
place.
As the clouds cleared up for the milky way, they found a wooden bridge
that led to a village. The villagers paced back and forth, weeping and
calling for help.
“Oh heaven help us now!” A lion cried out, “The sudden high tides have
stranded our poor baby in the middle of the river!” Indeed, there was
a frightened lion cub sitting on the highest branch of a tree, swaying in
the wind. No one in the village could both swim and climb, but Mos could.
Without saying a word, he jumped into the rapid current followed by Leon.
They barely made it to the tree.
Swiftly, Mos ascended the trunk. His fur and clothes were dripping, but
that did not bother him. With night vision he located the lion cub with
ease. He extended his arm, but it was too far to reach. He laid his entire
body on the branch, but it snapped under the weight.
The cub fell in Leon’s arms safe and sound, but Mos dove headfirst into
the water. Terror seized Leon’s heart, but he had to transport the cub to
safety first. He held it above his head, inhaled deeply, and began
swimming upstream.
Mos awoke in Leon’s arms, completely dry and surrounded by villagers. The
villagers asked them where they traveled from and what they wanted as
a reward, but they could not speak. All they could do was gesture vaguely
at the town and their throats. The lion understood them, and reemerged
with a potion, of which Mos and Leon both took a sip. They felt a tingling
in their throat, and in no time they could once again speak.
“We are lost, and we don’t have a penny,” plead Mos, “but all we humbly
ask is a night’s stay.”
“We are forever in your debt,” exclaimed the lion. “If you so wish, you
could stay here forever.”
Clearly the village has accepted them. Leon and Mos were too young to find
out how long is forever, but for now, they are home.
## Trivia
I, by definition, cannot write a folktale, so this is more like
a [Kunstmärchen](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Literary_fairy_tale). The
species do not carry any hidden meaning whatsoever; we don’t have
stereotypes of sly foxes and dumb bunnies. The genders of characters,
apart from Leon and Mos, are arbitrarily assigned.
Like the Grimms, I cranked up the knob labeled “violence” in later
revisions. Originally, the story only had one traveler. Leon was added
because I genuinely felt bad for the shit Mos went through. The stripping
part was inspired by the classic “Clothing = Power” equation. I could have
not thrown them into the river, but I did it anyway because I wanted to.
The sentence “You cursed dog, our blood shall cry out for vengeance!” is
hands down the funniest one in the KHM. (Use caution; “The Three Black
Princesses” is racist af.) After six months of not knowing what to do with
it, I’m glad to use it where it belongs.
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