It was everything she thought it wasn’t going to be. Well, not entirely. But it was different indeed. The little fox had set out on a new adventure, away from home, to seek knowledge and growth. It was a beautiful place, a place that was right for her . . . only it didn’t feel right anymore. Everything was new. Including herself. Everything she thought she was, was back at home. Who was she now? Who was she without her woods, without her cottage, without her family, her best friends, her crafts, her room? She knew she was very lucky to have all of those things in the first place, but that didn’t stop her from missing them terribly.
This place has a woods, but she does not know the trees like at home. She met a few people, but she does not know them as well as back home. Nothing is the same as back home. She felt dull. She felt empty. And one night, beneath the stars, on a bench by the garden, the fox felt so utterly and completely alone that she cried and cried on the phone to her old friend, the crow.
The heat did not help her adjustment to this place. She wanted to explore the woods, but the sun was unyielding and stifled the air with waves of embers. Every day she woke up thinking she was back in the cottage, but she wasn’t. She ate by herself and kept to herself except when those few new friends invited her out. And she appreciated that very much. She liked them very much. But still, she couldn’t help but feel so lonely. Many of the people here are not what she expected. They don’t all care about the things she cares about. But that’s ok. No one is the same. ‘And this is a place to grow,’ she remembers.
So day by day, she tries to re-find who she was by collecting pieces of what she once was. In the glitter she puts around her eyes, in the plants she spots in the garden, in the bugs she takes from the wall of her room and brings to the door. At least she can help someone else feel at home even if she doesn’t.
At least the moon was the same. The one that would slip through the windows of her cottage on summer nights to dance silver on her wall. But the stars are new. She would always find Orion at home, but where is he now? Then again, she had only stolen brief glances of the night sky on walks back to her new room.
The air is cooling and the little fox begins to feel more like herself. She is trying new things, meeting new people, and starting to not feel so out of place. But she worries she is falling behind. Everyone else seems so smart, so knowledgeable, so comfortable talking with other people. ‘It has only been a few weeks,’ she reminds herself. ‘Not everyone can be at the same speed.’
Leaves are falling and as familiar faces turn into friends she doesn’t feel so alone. It is different from back home, but she is starting to get a feel for the place. For the trees, the birds, the flowers. Slowly, it is starting to fall back into place. And she looks around, and thinks, ‘perhaps . . . this could turn into a home.’