A little fragment with Celeste and Jeremy talking about stuff. For the Holidays.

"So, what do you do for the holidays?"

"Which ones?"

"The big ones, ya know, end of year."

"Well, I was never really into much of anything, with just my Uncle and I. He wasn't at all a celebrating kind of guy, but he did follow some of the forms of the Old Ways."

"Old Ways?"

"Pre-civilized, predatory ways. Coyotes were fairly late to get non-pred, but when they did, they were really adamant about it."

"oh?"

"Yeah. The Old Ways was very much bound to a circle of life kind of thing. Like, after making a kill, the hunter would ask forgiveness to the prey, observing that, ultimately, his body would feed the grass that fed the next generation of prey."

"So, there was a great respect for life itself, and the balance of life. So, while there were feasts, there was never gluttony or waste."

"With the coming of the enlightened age, Coyotes were very respectful of prey now regarded as people, not simply food, in part due to their respect for life. Very eco-minded."

Then she stopped, as there was another aspect that she didn't feel she could share.

And Celeste was fifteen again, with her Uncle, on a hill, looking out over rolling countryside. The sky was clear and bright with stars. The waning Moon had not risen yet to wash out the faint details of the galactic band, and two planets helped outline the ecliptic.

She already recognized the winter constellations and the progression of the planets and the significance of the solstice. Simple, factual details.

Uncle produced a scrap of cardboard with half an apple pinned to it with toothpicks. He studied the location of the planets, Mars and Jupiter, and stuck two more toothpicks into the cardboard. Finally, he stuck a toothpick into the side of the apple.

"Aright then. Celeste, I'm going to show you something," He held up the cardboard and lined it up with the two planets. Holding it with one paw, he pointed to the toothpick in the side of the apple. "There you are. And there is Mars and Jupiter. The Moon is about here, and the Sun is in behind there."

And in that instant, Celeste was no longer standing on a hill looking at lights in the sky. She was on the side of a seven thousand mile diameter ball, the two lights were whole worlds, out of reach, yet knowably near, and the rest of the solar system stretched out around her, just out of sight beneath the local horizon. She saw herself in, and part of the whole thing, and by extension her place in the galaxy and beyond.

She then became aware that she needed to breath, and then heard and felt her own heartbeat. The rush of fluid became the rattle of individual cells, of chemical reactions and the interplay of electrons that made such happen.

Then her vision expanded again, and the world became as a roiling pot of soup, the continents nervous islands of fat floating and forming new shapes and sizes. The scale pulls into folding strata of stone, up thrust and fault, and the incessant nibble of erosion in a race for dominance.

On all that life grew and flourished. Not so much individual creatures or plants, but the idea, the sense of life, all that potential chemistry turned to a vital symphony.

Then she is back on a bare hill with her Uncle.

She just stood there gasping for a moment. Finally, "Thank you, Uncle."

"Yeah. In the old days, it was more symbolic, but with science, you get the more complete feel for everything."

"How?"

"How. It was just a matter of taking what you already knew and re-integrating it in a more dynamic way. I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It isn't mystical magical, I don't think. But I'm a dim old dog, so what do I know?"

He gripped her paws. "I don't know if we're crazy or have a deeper knowledge or just a different way of seeing the world. But every solstice, we remind ourselves of where we are in the big picture."

He looked out at the dramatic night sky. "I wanted to show you earlier, but it is always best to do it on a perfect night, and, besides, you needed to read up a bit more first."

He sat down, sadly. "I wish there were more of our people at hand. We'd have a little party after, some singing, some dancing. Maybe you'd meet a boy or something."

"A boy? And why would I want that?"

"Well, if you have to ask, then maybe you're not ready for that kind of thing yet."

Celeste made a face. She knew about the biology of sex, but she hadn't yet felt any urges in that direction, and for the moment regarded such as an inconvenient distraction.

Then she was back with Jeremy and squeezed his paw. He gave her a questioning look.

"I just remembered a bit with my Uncle. And some other little Coyote bits, secret handshake kind of things." then a little laugh, "And how I found the idea of boys incomprehensible at the time."

"Well, I'm glad you got beyond that."

"Yeah. But back to the celebrations, there was song and dance and all kinds of story telling."

"There were the traditions of the archetype Coyote as a trickster god, taking and eating anyone foolish enough to be suckered into his various games, riddles, or traps."

"Of course, you'll find all kinds of old songs and tales among traditional rivals, how Coyote was a bloodthirsty cheat and liar." Celeste just had a thought, "If you know any Jack Rabbits, and if they still know any of the old stories, you could get an earful."

"At least from the coyote side of the tales, Coyote would only eat the foolish, vain or otherwise, unworthy opponent. Anyone who could solve the riddle, or at least was brave and steadfast even in failure, Coyote would bestow some manner of gift or boon. True, they could be another level of trick, but never one done as a sore loser. Coyote could be awfully sneaky, but always played fair with decent folk."

"Not like there is any bias in the retelling?" Jeremy nudged.

"And edits for young ears. Coyote could be a real horn dog. And not particular about with who or what he, or she, he was a shape shifter too, depending on the telling, would seduce."

"Should I be careful?"

"Well, I think you're safe with me. But since Coyote could appear as a hot Doe as easily as anything else, perhaps avoiding too eager partners might not be a bad idea."

"Too eager, eh?"