The Rumour of the Tinesmith & the Mountain

[version 1.2]

The Tinesmith, having lost his wife and child to the War, had climbed the Mountain which overlooked their village, so that he might throw himself from it, and join them wherever it was they had gone.

This, though, had been a full year ago, and he had not gone through with the throwing, owing to an inspiration which he had had in that fateful decisive moment upon the ledge: he had the inspiration which led him to invent the Fadle.1

It had been the shape of an unusual Cloud which had done it - one which reminded him perfectly of both a ladle and a fork at once - and for a moment the Suns caught that Cloud just-so, in a wondrously curious cross-fire... and thus, the Tinesmith had seen in his keen mind's eye the Fadle, and gone on to better things... but by a different route than he had intended to, that mourning.

He had not been looking at the clouds at all, however, but at the ground far below, through blurred vision. It was the sudden flight of a startled, nearby Startling (which are, quite famously, easily startled), which had caused the Tinesmith to look up just then, as it launched itself from its perch (which had been in a nearby Birch).

This Startle-ing of the Startling had happened only because a small Stone had chosen just that moment to dislodge itself from an ancient, nearby Boulder (which is what made that Stone a Stone in the first place), and the Boulder had done that because the Mountain had told it to - and the Boulder always did what the Mountain told it to.2

And why had the Mountain told the Boulder to release the Stone which Startled the Startling that distracted the Tinesmith enough to look up, and so see the Cloud that inspired the famous Fadle?

I will tell you this tale... if I am, by you, allowed to be able.

Footnotes What is called the Fadle in my Realm is not unlike what is commonly referred to as the Spork in yours. ↩ The Mountain mostly just told the Boulder to sit tight, until it would be needed. Mountains are naught if not quite patient and wise (unsurprising, for their size). ↩

B.B. Butterwell's Compendium Allegoriian by B.B. Butterwell is marked with CC0 1.0 Universal