“So we meet again.” Teyang said, his hands on his hips.
“Bah! How do you know it’s me?” Kumiho changed shape from woman to fox, her ears twitching back in annoyance and tail flicking from side to side.
Teyang leaned in closer. “Because I can smell you.” He laughed a loud, strong laugh. Kumiho joined him, her twinkling laugh interspersed with his in a duet.
“But Kumiho… I heard whispers that you’re tormenting people again.”
“Well a girl’s got to eat.”
“You know I can’t allow that…”
“Oh, so you’ll let them eat all sorts of things but you won’t let me? That hardly seems fair.”
“You’re eating boys, Kumiho.”
“But they eat lamb – what’s the difference?”
Teyang gritted his teeth. “They don’t ensnare live lambs and rip their hearts out.”
Kumiho gave an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know why we discuss this every time we meet, Teyang. We’ll never see eye to eye on it.”
“Fine. Just don’t do it anymore, okay? Eat a bit of lamb instead.” He chuckled.
Ignoring his sentiment, she replied: “Well how was Samjokgu’s party? It’s all I’m hearing about on the streets right now.”
“It was great! You should have been there, he had this piñata in the shape of a fox…” Seeing her pained face, he stopped himself. “I don’t know why they’re so against you being there anyway. I thought gods weren’t the type to hold grudges.”
“Oh believe me, they’re the worst.” Kumiho said, her hackles raising.
“Well you seem cool to me.” He said, grinning. “You know – minus the whole killing babies thing.”
Kumiho smiled. Her fur seemed to glow in her delight. “Thanks,” she said, her head bowed coyly.
“Oops, better dash – some child needs help seeing in the dark. Speak soon, Kumiho!” He raced away, taking with him not just the light he harnessed from the sun, but also the warmth of his personality. Kumiho turned and traipsed into the darkness.
“News just in – goddess Kumiho has been killed in a crash. As yet there are no known suspects, but police are treating this as a hit and run. This has not saddened those closest to the scene, however, as they now appear to be celebrating the death of Kumiho with drinks and fireworks. Kumiho’s death will mean that thousands of children will continue li-” Teyang turned his TV off and rushed out of his apartment. He reached the crash site in mere minutes, though it was over 50 miles away. Everything was still there: the flattened body of Kumiho in her human form sprawled out on the tarmac; car parts littered around her.
Teyang ducked under the police’s yellow tape and approached Kumiho’s form. Though people were cheering all around him, he hardly noticed them as he stooped next to her. A tear ran down his cheek as he leaned over her and closed her eyes with his hand. He sat bent over her for a while, whispering comfort, until a familiar voice distracted him.
“Party, party!” It said. He looked around to see where the noise was coming from, only to see Samjokgu limping towards him along with the rest of his posse. “Teyang, old friend, come join us! Ding-dong the witch is dead!” He burst into laughter.
Without saying a word, Teyang knelt down again, scooped Kumiho’s body into his arms and left. His usual unmatched light was dim as he trudged away.
In other news, I have the dentist today. It’s been a while; I hope all goes well…