From the heart of a wood which lost its name long ago, is a place where a seeker of stories
may go.
If you've arrived in a story's your desire, come, take a seat, for what you require is
a tale from the second storytime.
Yes, there it is!
Aha, I knew putting all the giant plastic pumpkins in the same box would make them easier to find.
Hmm? Oh yes!
Uh, hello there, dears.
I am the first storyteller, as you well know, but uh, today I am also the extremely busy
first storyteller who is trying to remember which room I stored all my black and orange
lights in.
There's such a short time before!
Uh oh, uh, no.
Ha, it's supposed to be a surprise.
Story, story, there's gotta be one, oh yes!
Just a wedged here under this big, ceramic severed foot.
Great.
Here.
Amuse yourself for a while with this story, why don't you?
Oh, excellent.
They've become distracted preparing for Halloween.
Ugh, they used to host it every year, and until I experienced it I had no idea one could
inflict a holiday.
Gourish black and orange decorations everywhere, constant pranks with buckets of fake blood,
and a quantity of rubber spiders that I'm confident could qualify as a biblical plague.
I always felt like telling them to get a real hobby, like trading cards.
But if they're distracted, that will give me time to make some plans of my own.
My thanks are being patient with me thus far, and keep a sharp ear out during the Halloween
celebration.
I might just have a surprise of my own for that storyteller.
Oh, and since it seems to have slipped the first storyteller's mind, please enjoy today's
story.
How it Tasted.
A wide river twisted its way through a forest, amplifying the voices of the rocks and debris
it rushed over, directing the many sounds into a unified song.
Two rabbits chewed at a patch of rich green clover at a carefully measured distance from
the water's edge, so as not to provoke a passing predator.
As the spotted rabbit savored the deep green flavor of the clover, a sheen from the opposite
riverbank caught their eye.
Light was reflecting off the skin of a fruit hanging from a tree branch.
The fruit was bright blue and had a sort of iridescent quality, which reflected shimmering
rainbows when the light caught it just right.
The cream-colored rabbit with the spotted coat twitched their nose.
Hey, Rust, what do you suppose that tastes like?
The rabbit with the dusty reddish coat flicked an ear that was missing its tip.
Don't ask stupid questions, Milkweed, they said, without looking up from the clover patch.
That blue fruit on the tree over there, do you think it tastes even better than clover?
Rust thumped their foot before slowly gazing across the riverbank.
Doesn't matter.
You can't get across the river, so it doesn't taste like anything.
Milkweed tilted their head left and right to catch the iridescent sheen of the fruit.
But there's got to be some way to get over there.
I've seen animals on that side before.
Not rabbits, though, Rust snorted.
If there's rabbits on that side, they're being sensible, not wandering around where
there's obviously nothing to eat.
Maybe there are animals living on this side of the river who know what it tastes like,
Milkweed mused.
Huh, like a deer or something?
Good luck getting answers from one of those flighty things, the older rabbit scoffed.
You're right, a deer might know.
Thanks, Rust.
Rust thumped a foot again.
That wasn't a suggestion.
Deer are terrified of everything.
Bet rabbits intimidate them so much one wouldn't even be able to answer you anyway.
I'm returning to the Warren.
Rust hopped away, leaving Milkweed to stare longingly at the enchanting, mysterious fruit.
Curiosity made the decision for Milkweed.
They followed a set of shallow hoof prints until they found a small deer, standing more
still than the trees they blended into.
The deer stooped occasionally to nibble a bit of grass, then suddenly turned their full
attention to the small spotted rabbit.
I know you're there.
The deer's voice was indeed timid, but more direct than Milkweed had expected.
You can't sneak up on me, so please leave.
My name is Milkweed.
I just wanted to ask you something, if that's okay.
The deer turned their head to either side.
Their ears flicked, searching for predator sounds, and found nothing.
Eventually they responded.
I am called Cherry.
I do not like being distracted.
Please ask your question quickly.
Have you ever been to the other side of the river?
If so, have you ever tasted the blue fruit, which shines like a rainbow in the sunlight?
Milkweed asked hopefully.
Again, Cherry surveyed the area with caution before responding.
I have.
Crocodiles make crossing the river dangerous, but if I am swift, I can manage it from time
to time.
Those blue shining fruits are uncommon, but delicious.
Better than clover?
Milkweed's eye is shown bright with excitement.
Oh, certainly.
Clover is delicious, but the sweetness of that fruit is unlike anything else.
I would love to taste one for myself.
Is there any chance you could carry me across the river?
Or maybe you could carry one back here?
Cherry replied with a high-pitched grunt so quickly they nearly forgot to check for predators.
Impossible.
The crocodiles, the weight of you, carrying the fruit.
They made another sharp grunt and shook their head.
Sorry, it is overwhelming to think about.
To cross the river safely, I must think of nothing else but the crossing.
Milkweed was crestfallen, but nodded politely.
Thank you anyway.
They turned to hop away, but Cherry's voice halted them.
Maybe the otters somehow share the waters with the crocodiles.
I have no idea how, but maybe an otter could help you, the deer offered.
Milkweed sat up very tall.
What an excellent idea.
Thank you, Cherry.
And the cream-colored rabbit bounded away, back towards the river.
As Milkweed scurried along, they spotted Rust, giving them a quizzical look from the underbrush.
Cherry, the deer, told me to try asking an otter for help, Milkweed called.
Stop wasting your time on pointless things.
Rust snapped back, but the smaller rabbit had already dashed past.
Milkweed made their way to the edge of the river.
They knew there was an otter den somewhere, though only an otter would know the precise
location.
Hello, is there an otter I could speak to?
The spotted rabbit called.
A fuzzy, whiskered face eventually broke through the surface of the water.
Hey, I'm Marsh.
The otter replied.
Hello, Marsh.
I'm Milkweed.
Can I ask you something?
Yeah.
Marsh nodded as they climbed out of the river and sat on the bank.
Those blue fruits over there, Milkweed gestured with their head.
The ones that shine like a rainbow.
Have you eaten them before?
Skyfruit?
Yeah.
If I can get one before someone else nabs it.
Marsh nodded.
Do they taste good?
Better than clover?
Want to know about clovers?
Mostly fishing things?
Marsh rambled.
Skyfruit's hard to find.
I don't pass up the chance to grab one.
Marsh, is there any chance you could carry me across the river?
I would love to try a skyfruit just once, Milkweed pleaded.
Marsh waddled up to the cream-colored rabbit and prodded Milkweed with inquisitive paws.
I think you might be too heavy to cart across.
Sorry, friend.
Tell you what.
Next time one of those things falls off, maybe I could.
But the offer was cut short as the long face of a crocodile emerged from the river into
the conversation.
With a swift confidence, Marsh dove back into the water, no doubt returning to the safety
of an unseen den.
Milkweed was stunned to stillness as great reptilian eyes flicked open and the crocodile
made a low growl in greeting.
The moment the river monster moved, the small rabbit bolted away, diving into the closest
bramble.
Whether out of sheer panic or determination, Milkweed cried out, Have you ever eaten one
of those shining blue skyfruits?
The crocodile halted.
From within the bramble, Milkweed's heart was a thudding drum.
But still they waited as the crocodile turned their head and flicked an eye in the direction
of their hiding place.
Skyfruits replied the crocodile in a voice that rumbled with amusement.
Is that what you call those crunchy sweet things on the trees?
What possible reason do you have for asking, little rabbit?
Does that mean you don't eat rabbits?
Milkweed asked, optimistically.
The crocodile gave a deep thumping bellow of laughter.
I most certainly do eat rabbits.
If I don't eat, I starve, and I would prefer not to die.
But I have also eaten those delicious crunchy blue things when I have the chance, haven't
you?
I, um, can't cross the river.
The small rabbit muttered nervously.
You can't.
But why?
The crocodile stopped and bellowed out another echoing laugh.
Of course you can't.
Otters can avoid us, but not rabbits, I suppose.
It's a pity because I really would love to know what a skyfruit tastes like, Milkweed's
side.
Say, the crocodile spoke slowly.
My name is Cyprus.
I don't usually tell my name to a meal.
Just seems cruel.
What if I was to carry you across the river?
Generous of you, Cyprus, but like you, I would also prefer not to die.
Milkweed shifted their weight to one foot in preparation to flee.
Others laughed again, but the tone seemed slightly warmer and less amused.
Wise of you, little friend, but I have a request for you, too, if you'll hear it.
I'm Milkweed, and, well, I'm not your friend just yet, Cyprus.
But what could a rabbit possibly help you with?
I mostly keep to the water.
I have noticed some beautiful pink flowers growing on the shrubs nearer Warren.
What is pink?
asked Milkweed.
Cyprus gasped, which came out as a sharp bellow.
What it—oh, but of course, to you, they would be the beige flowers that grow on the
shrubs with the tiny heart-shaped leaves.
Do you know the ones?
Milkweed nodded in understanding.
I would gather some myself, but I'm pretty sure I'd make a total mess of your nice Warren.
Again, just seems cruel to needlessly harass you rabbits, just for some flowers, tantalizing
as they are.
I don't understand why those dull flowers are so important to you, but if I bring some,
you'll carry me safely across the river?
Milkweed asked skeptically.
Oh, absolutely, Cyprus sighed.
I'll be back in just a moment, then, Milkweed decided, and they dashed from their hiding
place back towards the Warren.
Milkweed found the flowers with ease.
The shrubs grew in clusters, concealing the Warren's many tunnels, and were sprinkled
with sweet-smelling flowers.
To a rabbit's eye, the color was a sort of muddy yellow.
Nothing spectacular.
Though their scent was quite lovely.
As Milkweed wondered about Cyprus's fascination with the flowers, the sharp sound of a thumping
foot cut through their imagination.
Then up on fruit, and decided to collect these ugly flowers instead, eh?
Rust asked snarkily.
Oh, well, I met a crocodile named Cyprus.
I have no idea why, but they said if I bring them some of these flowers, they'll carry
me across the river to try that fruit.
The younger rabbit explained, carefully plucking another flower from the shrub.
Rust snorted their disgust.
Apparently crocodiles are not the idiot creatures I took them for.
I can't believe you're this gullible.
I know it sounds strange.
Milkweed replied sheepishly.
Strange?
No, it sounds completely stupid.
This lizard fed you some story, so they could both eat you and make a fool out of you in
the process.
Rust twitched an agitated ear.
But if Cyprus really wanted these flowers, they're big and strong enough to get them.
Why ask me if they would just do it themselves?
Probably to embarrass the entire Warren in the process.
Who knows what a monster like that is thinking.
At least I found you before it was too late.
Rust scoffed and bound it off to other matters.
Milkweed considered their small pile of flowers, and the crocodile waiting for them.
As unlikely as it seemed that these flowers were actually something precious to Cyprus,
it was probably similarly strange that a fruit on the opposite side of a river was something
precious to a rabbit.
Milkweed was surprised to find themselves more curious than afraid.
They scooped the flowers up in their mouth and hopped carefully back towards the river.
It wasn't surprising to see Cyprus lasing by the river, mouth open in the sunlight.
It was far more surprising to see Cherry the Deer standing at a safe distance behind a
tree, and Marsh the River Otter sitting as close to Cyprus as they could while maintaining
an escape route.
Cherry gave Milkweed a slight nod before shifting their focus to the occasional forest sounds.
Marsh on the other hand was as engrossed in conversation as Marsh could possibly get.
But it's like an ugly brown.
How could it be different?
We have different types of eyes, I think.
Nothing's wrong with my eyes.
No, small friend, I didn't mean that.
It seems mammals see a brownish type of color where I—Cyprus stopped when they saw a Milkweed
approach.
Weedy!
My friend!
Those flowers are so beautiful!
Please bring them to me!
Cyprus exclaimed.
Cyprus moved forward cautiously, but stopped at a safe distance.
What—um—what guarantee can you give me that this isn't some trick, that you aren't
just trying to eat me as some cruel joke?
Though the question felt valid, the small rabbit disliked asking it.
Cyprus gave a low growl of consideration before responding.
I suppose, truthfully.
I cannot give you a guarantee.
You have brought me something that I dearly wanted.
In return, I would like to help you get something that you dearly want.
The risk for me was none, and the risk for you is great.
The next step is up to you, friend.
Rather than a guarantee, I will simply acknowledge the truth in your risk, and offer my promise
that I will not harm you.
It is only fair that you decide how valuable that is to you.
Milkweed blinked and twitched an ear.
There was something refreshingly honest about Cyprus's words, which once again stirred
that feeling of curiosity deep within the cream-colored rabbit's chest.
Slowly, Milkweed approached and set the pile of flowers in front of Cyprus.
The large crocodile lowered their head and tilted it to one side, breathing in the aroma
from the flowers.
A sound rumbled deep from within Cyprus, which gurgled up slowly and emerged as a resounding
belly laugh.
They smell so incredible.
I just knew anything so bright and beautiful probably smelled amazing.
Oh, I just love them.
Thank you, Weedy.
Cyprus clumsily scooped a few of the flowers onto their snoot.
From the trees, cherry blinked in amazement and even appeared to smile slightly.
Marsh shifted their gaze from the flowers to the enthusiastic crocodile and shrugged.
After a few moments of bellowing their absolute delight, Cyprus turned back towards the water
and called to Milkweed.
Let's be off, then, friend.
Let's get you that fruit.
Maybe it'll be so good you'll see the color pink, the crocodile giggled.
Enough of this, an authoritative voice stomped through the mirth as rust emerged from the
undergrowth.
Rust?
I know you're worried, but it's really okay.
Milkweed tried to comfort their friend.
Okay.
There's absolutely nothing that is okay about any of this.
You are young and you are stupid, Milkweed.
You think that your entire life is going to change if you have one bite of a fruit.
You already have everything you could ever need or want, and you're going to throw all
of that away for a whim.
You don't even know if it'll be worth it.
I don't have everything that I need, Milkweed replied defiantly.
Oh, really?
Tell me, then, naive little rabbit.
What is it that you need that is over there?
Rust barked.
I don't know, Milkweed replied, scooping up a few of the pink flowers and leaping up onto
Cypress's back.
Rust was still shouting, but the cream-colored rabbit was thinking more about how sturdy
and strangely safe a crocodile's back felt.
Rust was still shouting as Cherry stepped precariously from the trees and tiptoed to
the water's edge.
Rust was still shouting as Marsh leapt gracefully into the water and swam alongside Cypress,
though notably out of mouth's reach.
Rust was still shouting.
Toss those flowers in the water, would you weedy?
Cypress asked, giddily.
Milkweed did so, and Cypress began patting happily through the water.
They prodded the flowers with their snoot or claw, giving a delighted bellow every time
a flower spun in a particularly elegant way, or if they caught a whiff of their delicate
aroma.
Milkweed watched as Cherry flashed across the water, the same deer that had been so still
and cautious dashed to the other side of the river, with a skill so practiced they were
a blur over the river.
Meanwhile, Marsh floated alongside Cypress's right flank, with an unbothered ease that only
an otter could manage when swimming so close to a predator animal.
And hardly any time, the whole party arrived on the other side of the river.
Milkweed hopped off Cypress's back and approached the tree with the blue, gleaming, iridescent
skyfruit dangling from its branch.
In a trembling voice, Cherry suggested, I suppose I could try kicking the tree?
Who's kicking my tree?
A large bear bellowed as it emerged from the woods.
Cherry and Marsh vanished, respectively into the woods and water.
No amount of curiosity could keep them so close to a bear.
Cypress stepped defensively in front of Milkweed.
The small mammal peeked out from behind a crocodile leg fortress.
Nobody's kicked your tree, a friend.
Cypress fished for the bear's name.
Bear is enough, and I am not your friend, especially if you've come to steal my fruit,
the bear gruffed in response.
I can't even have one fruit from your tree?
Milkweed's voice was a tiny squeak.
Why should I give you a fruit from my tree?
It doesn't grow fruit very often, and it's the most delicious fruit I've ever had.
Why would I want to give that away?
The bear growled in annoyance.
Milkweed's heart pounded.
The bear was certainly terrifying, but somehow they weren't the source of the fear.
The blue shimmering fruit glinted in the sunlight.
The mysterious flavor of it drifted out of reach, with no resolution the spotted rabbit
could think of other than retreat.
But bear, weedy here, has never tasted one of those sky fruits before.
Cypress's voice cleared Milkweed's muddled thoughts.
Bear looked slowly from Milkweed to the fruit and back again before approaching slowly.
The cream-colored rabbit heard a rumble from deep within Cypress that sounded like defensiveness.
Bear lowered their head to eye level with Milkweed.
Is this true?
You have never had even a single taste of a sky fruit, Bear inquired.
Yes, the rabbit answered quickly.
Cherry, Marsh, and Cypress here all helped me get across the river so that I could try
one.
Bear gave a tremendously frustrated sigh and rose up to full height.
Cypress shifted their weight but relaxed as Bear turned and lumbered over to the tree.
With a paw as deft as it was massive, Bear plucked the fruit from the tree and cracked
it open before setting it on the ground.
The tree will make another fruit.
I can't say if you'll have another chance to try it.
Go on, then.
Bear grumbled.
Milkweed looked up at Cypress, who gave a nod.
The small rabbit approached the fruit and gave it a sniff.
The flesh of the fruit was as blue as the rind, though it lacked the same iridescent quality.
The scent was sweet and slightly intoxicating.
Milkweed closed their eyes and took as large a bite as they possibly could.
The taste was sugary and fresh, with a slight bite to it, which made Milkweed's eyes water
slightly.
Well, Cypress' voice boomed with anticipation.
How is it?
What do you think, Weedy?
Is it even better than Clover?
Milkweed opened their eyes.
On the other side of the river, they could see a rust-colored rabbit thumping an angry
foot, but they were too far away to be heard.
I am not sure, Milkweed replied.
But I am sure that I needed it.
That meddling jerk!
I had at least a few gallons of plastic spiders in this old bathtub, but that guy went and
filled it with trading cards.
What even is a blue-eyes lotus piker?
Why do I need to pendent summon it?
Dammit, where are my spiders?
Alright, alright, I don't think there's any point in trying to keep it a surprise any
longer.
We, I, used to have a holiday that I would celebrate in this tower every year.
Halloween.
It was the best.
The food.
The spooky tales.
The pranks.
I haven't been able to celebrate Halloween in, well, at least a year or, well, time gets
a little weird here.
Anyway, congratulations, my dears, because you are officially invited to the first storyteller's
grand Halloween event next time you visit.
Consider yourselves fortunate, since you will be the first to participate in my very favorite
holiday.
And I am certain that you will be far better company than certain card game playing wet
blanket ex-apprentices that I could mention.
Anyway, dears, please look forward to our next meeting.
Be well, and carry today's story in your heart.
Today's tale has ended, but return once again to this place where you are considered a friend.
Come to this tower in its mysterious dweller for more from the Librarium, the second storyteller.
Thank you for listening to the second storyteller.
If you have a prompt for a story, please send it to thesecondstoryteller at gmail.com.
If your prompt is selected, your name will be credited at the end of the episode.
Today's prompt was Community, submitted by Science and Socks.
If you would like to help support the future of this podcast, please consider becoming
a patron by going to patreon.com slash the second storyteller.
A donation as small as a dollar is greatly appreciated and helps keep us going.
A donation of just $10 a month puts you on the list of current library card holders,
and your name will be read at the end of the episode.
The second storyteller podcast and the featured stories were written and created by Katie
Chacon.
The role of the second storyteller is played by Charles Scott.
The role of the first storyteller is played by Katie Chacon.
Today's voice of the story was provided by Katie Chacon.
The voice of the intro and outro is Chris Camp, and you can find the fantastic games
he's worked on at rix.itch.io.
The music was written by Fintan, who can be found at garbagebag, all one word,.itch.io.
The second storyteller will return next month with more magic, fun, and of course, a story
to tell.