mofumofu

From the journal of Sir Frederick Earnest,

	It was in early spring that I first sought audience with the man who would eventually become the benefactor to my expeditions. The last of the winter snows had faded away and each day brought with it warmer weather and greener fields. This man, a noble of some prominence, had established a reputation for adventurousness, most notably with his money. While I am certain that this attitude would eventually lead to his impoverishment, for now I sought only to leverage it to my advantage.

	A letter I had penned to him was answered promptly and he called me to visit his estate with all haste. I must admit, I was rather taken aback when I arrived. A grand mansion rose from the beautifully manicured garden, lush with flora in full bloom far in advance of the season. Small winding paths of stone weaved their way through the plantlife, their edges lined with ornate lamps resting upon finely crafted pillars. I would find out much later that in the embrace of night these would bathe the entire grounds in a glow that brought forth almost unnatural feelings of serenity. Beyond the mansion, a river ran, it's beaches lined with willow trees whose branches reached far over the water's below.

	Upon presenting my invitation to the servant that answered the door, I was brought to what appeared to be a lounge of sorts. A fireplace crackled merrily despite the absence of any natural chill in the air and with every step I felt my shoes sink into the unnecessary thickness of the carpet below. I was informed that my host would be with me shortly and to make myself at home. With that I was left alone, perhaps deliberately so that I might fully appreciate the splendor of the furnishings. But of all the items inhabiting the room, the one that brought me the most curiosity was placed within the window frame.

	I may not have been a rich man at this point in my life, but even I was capable of understanding the shape held by a pair of binoculars. These appeared to be a most oversized adaptation, each lens measuring wider than the spread of my hand. This grand device was fixed to a pedestal, embossed with the most intricate of designs. As I lay my hands upon the contraption, I found that it rotated easily, yet remained perfectly fixed upon where the lens pointed once I released it. Intrigued with what I might find in the distance, I peered within.

	The  binoculars were as impressive within as they had been upon the surface. The river that flowed beyond the mansion was brought into full focus. Even from the distance it stood from my present location, some several hundreds of feet away, I could see it's details with clarity. The spray of water where the current churned beneath an outcropping of rock, the wave of the leaves with each passing breeze, all was laid clear through this marvelous device. It was soon that I noticed an oddity. One branch of the tallest willow tree nearby bobbed up and down rhythmically, independently from the gentle swaying of all it's peers.

	I fixed my gaze upon this branch and soon had my curiosity for it's behavior answered. To my delight, a half dozen mofucores were perched upon it. The small creatures were rare to see even alone, much less in a grouping of six. As I watched, the creatures began to jump up and down, their tiny bodies launching themselves only a few short inches before landing upon the branch with their fellows. They continued to repeat this as a harmony developed, until finally all were rising and falling in sync. Soon enough, their branch began to bob, and the mofucores ceased their activity and held tightly to the branch as it bounced over the current of the river below. I could not help but smile as I watched them at their game, feeling blessed that I could witness such a pleasant sight and taking it as a sign of good luck for my upcoming meeting.

	My feelings of good fortune were short to last. As I watch the mofucores ride their quivering branch, I spotted something flash past them from below. A handful of leaves soon showered down from above, and I adjusted the binoculars to see what had caused the disruption. At the base of the tree stood a most ill-mannered child, a petulant young brat no doubt the son of a neighboring home, or perhaps even my host's spawn. Even as I watched, this child scrounged through the dirt, finding himself a stone and at once casting it at the gathering of mofucores upon the branch.

	 I gritted my teeth, hoping that the wondrous creatures would notice the peril that they were in and rush to safety. My silent prayers were not to be answered though. Engrossed with their game, the mofucores did not seem to notice the projectiles passing so close by them. I knew then it was only a matter of time before the child's aim improved. Even knowing this, I barely managed to suppress a curse as perhaps his fifth toss found it's mark. One of the mofucores, at the peak of it's jump, was struck squarely by a stone. It fell helplessly into the rapids below, it's tail fluttering as it went. My sadness turned quickly to despair as I watch the remaining five mofucores, with only the briefest pause, jump after their compatriot. No doubt they intended to rescue their fellow, but perhaps they did not realize the certain doom that awaited below.

	Unable to pull myself away from the binoculars, who's existence I now cursed for showing me this horrible event, I searched in vain for any sign of the creatures in the rapid current of the river. But after the half dozen splashes as they entered the water, there was no sign of them. I turned my gaze further down the river, towards a section that slowed considerably and was flanked by gentle beaches. Perhaps, I attempted to convince myself, the current would see fit to push one of the mofucores to shore in an act of mercy. Yet as I watched, none of the creatures seemed likely to emerge. I was about to pull myself away from the cruel sight, to summon one of the servants and demand a strong drink so that I might forget the bitter reality of what had happened, when I witnessed a most marvelous sight.

	At the bank of the river, a small figure broke the surface and launched itself to dry ground. It was followed at once by one, then two, then a full five more. All six of the moufcores that previously had perched upon the willow's branch now sat in the grass besides the river. Even as I watch in amazement, they shook themselves dry, their fur fluffing out as if it had never been submerged in the water just moments ago. They began bouncing, just as they had done upon the branch, but with unbridled enthusiasm at being reunited. After only a few moments the group turned away from the river and bounded off into the surrounding trees, and I quickly lost sight of them.

	It was from this event that I came to realize that the elusive mofucore was no simple creature of flesh and blood. What, exactly, they were I could not say at this point, but having born witness to their resiliency I could only come to the conclusion that mofucores, in some strange way, do not play by the same rules as the rest of the world. Observe, if you will, the carefree nature of the mofucore. Does it seem likely that a creature that should logically fear pain, hunger, sickness and death would act as the mofucore does? Nearly anyone could tell you that the best way to attract a mofucore is to offer it sweets, but have you met a single person who has lured one out with meat, despite the mofucore's obvious relation to the carnivorous manticore? In some way the mofucore stands apart from all other life.

	I believe that it was a sign by some higher power that I was to witness this occurrence, for in my meeting with the lord of this house I carried a renewed wonder for the world. I spoke at length of the mysteries that lurked just beyond the beaten paths of society, of strange places and peoples that may lie just waiting for discovery. It was thus after only a short while that I secured a hefty sum from the man, granting me the freedom to set my sights to the farthest lands.

	To this day the mofucore remains my most favored creature. On my own estate I have managed to attract a seemingly permanent herd of the creatures, who gather at my kitchen window each morning in numbers I have never heard of before. After sweets have been given, many bound off to my own garden, to chase each other through the bushes and grass. Others remain at the window, bunching together and napping happily in the crumbs of candy that remains of their breakfast. Every now and then I look out to the proud willow I have planted in the center of my garden, it's branches swaying softly in the breeze. And more often than not, one branch bobs rhythmically, just like on that fortuitous day.