I watch her hop over puddles and dodge snow mounds.
She moves around, trying best to keep her feet dry.
Don’t you just hate this time of year? I don’t even know why I came here. I mean, sure, it’s pretty sometimes. But, look at your feet! You’re all wet.
I looked down at my feet – heavy work boots covered in snow and ice, standing in a puddle at least an inch deep.
She wore an orange hat with little ears, hopping around looking for drier land.
Have you ever seen anything like me before? My kind doesn’t usually venture out into this weather.
She moves gracefully. You can see why the foxes took their shapes after her. She’s a kitsune, an aspect of Inari.
I know you’re wondering. The answer is three.
Three tails, is what she means. The kitsune’s age and wisdom are measured by the number of tails they have. Three means she’s a young one, but in enough time she’ll have nine, I’m sure of it.
I stand in the puddle, watching her dance around ice and dirty New York snow. Time has stopped and the sky has begun to turn blue.
It rains a little, though there are no clouds over head.
She gives me a sly smile, tosses me a little white glowing ball, and dances off, dodging rain drops and snow flakes.