Coyote Fable

Coyote’s voice

There came a time when our people grew too numerous, and their departed souls too many, for Coyote to guide alone. A day he knew would come when he must choose a messenger, and a day he had prepared for. He gathered his trusted animals, and he told them of this duty.

“I will do it.” Declared the Owl, puffing up his feathers in pride. “My wings are silent that those soon to die may never know it, and any who knows my visage will proclaim that I am the very symbol of wisdom.”

“No, I will do it.” Insisted the Vulture, a greedy look in her eye. “Mine is a strong bond with death, and I can free the dead of their discarded flesh with my strong beak.”

“The duty should be mine.” Stated the cat in a cavalier manner as he groomed himself. “My ears know every rustle of the forest’s denizens, and I am a comfort to all two-leggers who see me.”

As the animals professed their skills, Coyote turned to the Raven, who had been muttering quietly to the air beside herself.

The raven turned her head back to coyote, and her beak opened, and a voice not her own howled out in sorrow, lost and afraid. And then the forest went silent, and then, in her own voice, she spoke.

“May I?”

Coyote nodded, and the raven called to the lost spirit, and with that, she beat her wings and was gone.

Coyote looked to his trusted few, and spoke.

“You have many skills, my friends, but there is a simple truth that you have allowed to be clouded with pride and vanity. Actions speak more loudly than words.”

And so it is.