Opening the cupboard, Aeri cried out in dismay.  Jongin hadn’t even taken the dotori jeon that she had so carefully prepared for his journey with tender, if bitter, chogeun and the last of the acorn flour.  Hardening her resolve, she set to readying the cozy little home for its inhabitant's long absence, as well as preparing and packing all of the least perishable food.  There wasn’t much to do, even less to pack and cook, and by early afternoon, she had finished.  Lying on her pallet, Aeri took her rest, knowing that, come nightfall, she would have to leave the only home she had ever known.  

She awoke at moonrise, the bright round face of its rabbit beaming down on her through the oiled hanji of the window.  Opening the door, she looked down to see two thin trails of pure white sand, sparkling in the light of the full moon like hundreds of winking stars, fallen to earth.  She looked back once, committing to memory the inside of the dear little cottage, before slinging her gakgung and quiver over her shoulder, closing the door, setting her face to the forest, and following her brother’s trail.  

It didn’t take long until she began to flag, burdened down by hunger, yet simultaneously unwilling to eat any of the food she had packed without sharing it with her orabeoni.  She knew that Jongin had to be even hungrier than she, seeing as how he had left all of the food to her, and seemingly struck out with nothing more than his twin jangdo, and a couple of empty sacks. 

Suddenly the moon--which had previously passed behind the clouds--broke through their fleecy cover, and beams of moonlight lit up a small clearing, surrounded by mushrooms.  It was through here that Jongin’s shining trail of white sand sparkled.  Seeing a relatively young pine just on the other side of the clearing, right beside her brother's trail, Aeri took out her eunjangdo in preparation of slicing off some of its juicy white inner bark to eat for a quick energy boost.  Briskly cutting through the clearing, watering in anticipation of the clean piney flavour, she thought about how--if she had the time--she could dry the strips, and grind them into flour, boil it, and add some mushrooms for a nice, thick, hearty porridge.  Distracted by these thoughts, it took Aeri a while to realize that the trip across the clearing was taking longer than expected, as she walked twice--and thrice again--the length that she thought she should, before finally reaching the edge of the small meadow, and entering the purplish dark shade of the other side of the forest.  

Finally reaching the young pine that had enticed her in the first place, she hacked through the tough, silvery-brown outer bark--as well as the vibrant green middle-layer--to expose the creamy white cambium.  Pulling it off in strips, she began stuffing it hungrily into , ignoring the slightly resinous flavour.  Still chewing, she continued to slice even more strips, stowing them in her bag for later.  She had brought a small iron pot, and the mountain was full of streams of pure, sweet water, so when she reached her brother, they could boil the strips and eat them like noodles.  Eyeing a nearby spruce, she took a break from harvesting pine tree bark to go pluck and eat some of the tender spruce tips, the colour of spring snow peas, their strong taste of pine and citrus filling , giving her strength with their aromatic flavour.  

Having denuded the spruce tree’s lower layer of its tips, she was about to go back to harvest as much of the pine bark as she could reach from the first tree, when a diffuse, pale blue light up ahead caught her eye. Cautious, but curious, she moved closer, until she began to hear the whimpering and whining of a small animal.  Heart moved, she walked quickly toward the sound and, rounding a particularly large red pine, she found the glow coming from a small red fox whose foot had been caught in a noose trap.  Still confused by the glow, she nevertheless crouched to see if there was a way that she could free the animal without being bitten.  As she looked the creature turned, and Aeri gasped, falling back when nine fluffy, white tails plumed around its small body.  

Scrambling backward, she turned to run, when a particularly high, piteous whine halted her in her tracks.  Turning, Aeri saw the little fox looking up at her with large, liquid golden eyes, one black little paw held aloft, almost as if in supplication.  Sighing in frustration at her own foolishness, Aeri quickly moved forward before she could change her mind, crouched down, and cut loose the creature from its trap.  

Almost immediately, it leapt on her chest--surprisingly heavy for such a small body--making her fall backward with a gasp.  Stunned, Aeri lay on the ground, breathless, staring at the sky as the tiny fox hovered over her, and opened its mouth.  Somewhere, dimly in the back of her mind, she knew that she should run, that she should fight--do something--but the wind had been knocked out of her, and it was so hard to gather her thoughts…

A quiet hacking cough issued from the gumiho’s mouth, and then a shining white yeowoo guseul, the size of a pearl emerged from its throat to sit on its tongue.  With a toss of its head, the gumiho threw its fox bead into Aeri’s mouth and then stepped on , forcing her to swallow.  Instantly, she could understand the language of the birds in the trees, of the wind sighing overhead, of the clouds in the sky.  Overwhelmed, she looked down and spied a thin brown rabbit, peeking from its underground burrow, and all of sudden she could understand the words of the animals scurrying about on the ground--the skinny red squirrels, the scampering striped field mice, and--most importantly--the grinning fox still sitting heavily on her chest.  

“I thank you for your generous assistance, little human,” the fox said, its nine tails lazily waving back and forth, each one seemingly with a mind of its own.  

“Are...are you going to eat my liver?” Aeri quavered, looking up in fear at the fox.

Throwing back its head, he laughed--a hacking, chittering sound that, though surprising, was not unpleasant.  “No one wants to eat you, child!”  Climbing off of her chest, the gumiho tossed his head.  “Get up, little one.”

Cautiously climbing to her feet, her eyes on the grinning creature the entire time,  Aeri rose, ready to flee at the slightest sign of aggression.  

“There now, little Two-Legs,” the animal chuckled.  “Isn’t standing much more comfortable for your kind than lying on the cold ground?”

Nodding slightly, Aeri quavered at the gumiho’s sudden frown.  

“I am over a thousand years old, child, you can make a prettier bow than that!”

Jumping in surprise, Aeri hastened to make a full 90 degree bow.  “Please forgive me, orashin, I meant no offense.”

“Well, now,” the fox said, appeased.  “That’s better.  You must always remember to mind your manners, my dearest Two-Legs, for you may find there will come a time when the little courtesies are all that keep that dainty head of yours on your disturbingly hairless shoulders.  Now, tell me,” he said, fussing about until he comfortably adjusted all of his tails and sat, “what is a child like you doing in the middle of the dark wood?” 

“I’m following my brother.”

“And what is he doing in the middle of the dark wood?”

“He left to find us some food.”

“Do you not have markets in the human world?”

“A great hunger has come upon the land, and we have resorted to eating grass, and tree bark, but it is not enough.  My father has already gone to the land in the North to find work so that he can make enough money to buy us food.”

“And what will he do if you starve whilst he is off traipsing about the land in the North?”

Aeri hung her head, for she had no answer to that, though it was a thought that had occurred to her during many a night in the quiet, and the dark.  

Seeing her distress, the fox flicked his tails.  “No, no, no, nevermind that.”  Canting its head, he gave her a crafty look.  “Is your brother tall, and slender with a certain...bearlike cast to his face?”

“You’ve seen him!” Aeri cried, lifting her head in hope.

“Certainly,” said the creature.  “But, in this dark wood he has traveled far, much farther than a little grain of rice like you could hope to catch in one night.”

Tightening her jaw, Aeri squared her shoulders.  “I don’t care.  If need be, I will follow his trail until I can no longer walk.”

“There, there, calm yourself, there’s no need for all that,” said the gumiho, rising to his feet, his tails swishing distressedly.  “Here, now, one good turn deserves another.  Climb on my back, and I will take you to him.”

Obediently, Aeri climbed onto the little fox’s soft back, somehow fitting just right.  Gathering itself on his haunches, the gumiho leapt, launching himself into the forest following Jongin’s silver trail, the giant trees blurring as they whipped by the swift creature.  In no time at all, she spied her orabeoni in the distance, but uponspeeing him, her heart leapt into , for there, bearing down on her beloved brother at a breakneck pace, was a white-tusked wild boar the size of a great bear.  Shouting a wordless warning, Aeri clamped her thighs around the gumiho’s sides, unslung her gakgung, fitted her arrow and let it fly.  

As if by instinct, her brother dropped, allowing Aeri’s arrow to fly harmlessly over him to strike the boar straight in one of its beady red eyes.  Body still moving, though it was already dead, the boar crashed to a halt just in front of her brother, its large body kicking up dirt as it skidded.  Vaulting off of the fox’s back, Aeri ran to her orabeoni, dropping to her knees as she checked him over for injuries.  

“Aeriya,” he said in confusion.  “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you, of course.”  

“It’s too dangerous here for you!”

“I don’t care!  I want to stay with you!  Besides--you didn’t even take any food!”  At that, Aeri undid her pack of dotori jeon.

“Listen, you can’t stay he--” Jongin gurgled as, ignoring him, Aeri shoved a piece of pancake into his mouth.  

“Be quiet, and eat,” she said, unpacking an earthen bowl, and turning her head to catch the sound of water.  Upon finding it, she dropped the package of jeon in her brother’s lap, and headed for the nearby river to obtain fresh water.  

By the time she returned, Jongin had already finished the packet of food, and, after a hard look from his dongsaeng, he drank the water, as well.  Upon finishing that, he finally seemed to notice the silently watching fox.  “Is that…”

“Yes.” 

“Why did he--why were you--”

“I saved him from a trap, so in repayment he brought me to you.”

Turning to the gumiho, her brother bowed.  “Thank you.”

Eyeing the boar, the fox its chops.  “It was the courteous thing to do.  However...all of that running made me work up quite an appetite…”

Jongin and Aeri both turned to the dead boar, then looked at each other, before Aeri turned to the gumiho.  “Would you like to have the liver?”

The three butchered the boar, and Aeri built a campfire, while her brother prepared the meat for roasting.  As they worked Jongin and Aeri occasionally looked at the massive boar and sighed.  

“What troubles you, children?” asked the gumiho.

“This boar is enough to feed an entire village.  People are starving, and it seems such a waste to let it stay here and rot.  We can only eat so much.”

“Well, I cannot help your starving people, but I can ensure that the boar’s life would not have been taken in vain.”  LIfting his head, the fox uttered a thin, shrill gekkering noise, and within moments, Jongin and Aeri were surrounded by foxes of all ages.  Silently, they slunk around the edges of the firelight, until the gumiho gave a shrill cry that made the little foxes pause.  With that, one small, intrepid fox kit edged closer to Jongin, and bravely sniffed at his ankles.  Shaking its head with a sneeze, it quickly moved to Aeri, seemingly far more curious about her scent--sniffing all around, and even going so far as to put its front legs on her back to sniff under her hair.  Tongue lolling, it dropped back to the ground before trotting over to the butchered boar.  Without ceremony, it began to eat.  

As if that released some sort of hold, the rest of the foxes darted forward, snapping and biting at the boar's flesh, and soon the wood was filled with the sound of feasting.  Later that night, as the skulk lay about the fire in various stages of engorgement, Jongin and Aeri found themselves nodding off.  

“Go to sleep, children,” the vigilant gumiho eventually said.  “I’ll keep watch this night.”

With that assurance, the siblings stretched out by the light of the fire, closed their eyes, and fell into exhausted slumber.  When they awoke, some time later, the foxes were gone, but the forest was still dark as night.  Still, the gumiho watched.  

“Is it not yet dawn?” Aeri asked, yawning as she turned to her brother.  

The gumiho chittered a husky laugh.  “Dawn?  Don’t you know where you are, children?”  Looking at each other, and finding no answers, Jongin and Aeri subsequently turned to the fox and shook their heads. “This is the dark wood,” the creature said, finally standing, and swishing his tails.  “No dawn comes to this forest.”

“How do we find our way out?” Jongin asked.

“With that, I cannot help you,” the fox answered.  “Once the forest has you in its grasp, there is always some task that need be completed before it lets you go.  What that may be for you, and when it may happen, no one will know.  It is a path for you to find.  And now,” he said with finality, “I must leave you.”

“Oh, why?” Aeri cried.

“Because it is your fate to face whatever comes on your own, relying on each other.  But worry not, we shall meet again in life, little Two-Legs.  If you survive.  After all...I’ll be returning for my yeowoo guseul.” With that, and a flash