(A Portrait of Abram Soussiere, titled as “Moore in powdered wig”
Nothing seemed to change much after Octavia’s evening with the Hulders, except Gale noticed that Michaela was acting strange. When he asked Theodore, he cocked his head to a side and asked,
“I’m not sure, Gale. What’s different?”
For example, she tried too hard to be of assistance, even offering to carry his large stacks of books for him. When he intercepted her attempts to help, such as taking away the books she hastened to carry, she would be too flustered to look at him directly, a red blush suffused to the tip of ears and neck. When they happened to have eye contact, she would avert her gaze quickly or look him up plaintively with wet eyes that had the power to shut him up.
‘No…no, no, no. It can’t be.’
Although if he asked anyone, he or she would say that her actions showed clear symptoms of kindling romantic affection, he should not be too hasty to draw that conclusion. After all, Michaela was a human whose soul and mind were closer to a female rabbit’s, and he was a a magical forest creature whose name means “covered” or “secret.” He cannot imagine settling into a serious relationship with anyone who is not a hulder, as their lives may have to be secluded in the depths of the virgin forests where no man can approach if needs rise. He would flirt with women who visit Fullgreens from faraway regions in his discreet but potent way that earned the scorn of men who believed in ostentatious masculinity and intrigued women sufficiently enough to approach him, making various excuses. But he didn’t allow himself or them to go any further than an ephemeral spring or summertime game of wits, which, to the zestful cynicism of his male peers, was actually sufficient enough for his lack of serious relationships. When his intoxicated male neighbors taunt him about his lack of libido, he would laugh, playing along with their mockery. Too much denial and humility can make enemies, he learnt.
“I show them what most of you are not capable of bestowing in a lifetime.”
What he, out of discretion for the ladies and pity for the human menfolk, left out was that his “lovers” gave him all the sweet attention that most mortal men lack the ability to elicit.
Some of the ladies expressed serious interest, and he considered when he was in his early twenties, but his discerning mind told him that rumors of a serious relationship are not worth the trouble of trying to settle down in Fullgreens. So then he would just flirt with ladies, dance, and make merry during spring summertime festivals of frolicking every year, and subtly cast his charm over his customers and neighbors day to day. In reality, what he did to his male and female customers wasn’t different, but the ladies took special fancy to his way of interacting.
As he managed to still instill fond memories in the women the town assumed they were meeting, and his effect was seen as some kind of magic as no other man seems to excel in that art.
Some women would even imply that Gale was in love with them, even claiming that they just cannot accept his burning affection, and the town’s young people learned to not question them further into their statements’ validity. When his friends told him once, Gale just said.
“Ah, so I am being treated like some sour grapes*?”
*Author’s Note: In Aesop’s fables, a fox who couldn’t reach the grapes hanging from the vineyard, talked himself into giving up, saying that the grapes must be sour.*
To an acquaintance who badgered him to tell him the mysteries of getting a woman to not rave at you in broad daylight after you broke her heart, he said.
“Well, it is not so difficult if you don’t take what you’re not willing to give.”
For some reason, the acquaintance yelled at him “go to Hell,” and stormed off.
Anyways, with his thought back in track about his apprentice’s odd behavior. Trying his best to be a fair and square supervising master herbalist to his apprentice, Gale just has to politely turn her down without outwardly rejecting her or hurting her feelings. He was sure that he can accomplish his goal, since he knew how sharp and intuitive women are, despite mortal men’s denial, and Michaela was a quick, discerning woman.
That was starting to make everything pretty clear to Gale who tried to assess the situation as objectively as possible. Michaela, a rabbit, was enamored with a life form of a different species, a hulder–him.
While his mind was wrapped in these thoughts, he didn’t see that the floor was slippery from Michaela’s mopping during late evening, just thirty minutes before most Fullgreens’ stores closed. As he walked hither and thither in random direction in his apothecary, his right foot slipped, and in a minute he felt the terrifying sensation of falling straight onto the floor.
Hulder Tales 