Bramble's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Bramble stood at the junction where the three paths met, checking his pocket watch for the fifth time that morning. The acorn trail had worked. Two voices rose from different directions, already sharp with argument before either speaker came into view. A crow appeared from the eastern path, dragging a woven pouch stuffed with twigs and grass behind her. A squirrel emerged from the west, his whiskers twitching with irritation. They stopped when they saw each other. The crow pointed a wing at the squirrel. "You still owe me three pine cones from spring," she said. The squirrel's tail flicked. "I paid you in mushrooms," he shot back. They both turned toward Bramble at the same moment, noticing him for the first time. The argument hung in the air between them. Bramble touched the dried beetle wing in his bag and stepped forward. His flower-and-mushroom crown caught the morning light. "I have something worth more than pine cones," he said quietly. The crow tilted her head. The squirrel's ears swiveled toward him. The marketplace had its first two visitors. The crow set down her pouch and hopped closer. The squirrel followed, keeping distance from them both. Bramble pulled out the beetle wing and held it up where the light made it shine. The crow's eyes locked onto it. "That for trade?" she asked. Bramble nodded. "For something of equal value." The squirrel glanced at the crow's pouch, then back at the wing. "What does she have that you want?" Bramble checked his watch, then pointed at a small clay teapot tucked in the grass near the crow's feet. Painted flowers covered its surface. The crow shifted. "That's mine. She gave it to me for the mushrooms." The squirrel hissed. "I gave you mushrooms for the pine cones you owed me." Bramble picked up the teapot and turned it in his paws. "Then trade it to me for the wing. And you," he looked at the squirrel, "trade me something for the teapot after." The crow and squirrel went quiet. Their argument had found a solution. The first trade at the junction was about to happen. The crow pushed the teapot toward Bramble with her wing. He placed the beetle wing in front of her and checked his watch. The squirrel reached into his cheek pouch and pulled out two acorns and a cluster of red berries. "These for the teapot," he said. Bramble studied them, then nodded. He slid the teapot across the dirt. The squirrel took it and hurried back toward the western path. The crow picked up the wing, examined it closely, then tucked it into her pouch. She looked at Bramble and the wooden table standing behind him at the center of the junction. "You'll be here tomorrow?" she asked. Bramble touched his watch. "Every day." The crow lifted her pouch and walked east. Two creatures had become two traders. The marketplace existed now.