Leigh Bardugo writes folk tales the way folk tales should be written — with teeth behind the charm.
The Too-Clever Fox is a 36-minute companion story set in the Grishaverse, following Koja, a fox whose wits have kept him alive far longer than they should have. The setup is deceptively simple: a hunter lays traps, animals fall prey, and one fox thinks he's smarter than all of them. What Bardugo does with that premise, though, is spin it into something that feels both ancient and distinctly her own.
I went into this expecting a pleasant little appetizer before Siege and Storm, maybe something forgettable. What I got instead was a story with genuine emotional weight packed into the runtime of a lunch break. The interactions between Koja and the hunter carry a tension that feels earned rather than manufactured, and the ending — where the fox realizes cleverness alone isn't enough — lands with a quiet punch. It's the kind of moral that doesn't announce itself with trumpets but sits with you afterward.
Lauren Fortgang was the right choice for this. Her narration captures the cadence of oral storytelling, the kind where you can almost picture someone leaning forward by firelight. She differentiates the talking animals with distinct vocal shifts without ever tipping into cartoonish territory. The fox sounds cunning. The other creatures sound like themselves. There's a warmth in her delivery that keeps the darker elements — and there are darker elements, including animal deaths and the grim reality of hunting — from overwhelming the fairy tale tone. It's a balancing act, and she handles it with real skill. Two AudioFile Earphones Awards and an Audie nomination don't appear out of nowhere.
Here's where I have to be honest about the story's limitations. The big twist? If you've read more than a handful of fables in your life, you'll see it coming from a distance. Bardugo's writing is sharp enough that the journey still matters, but if you're someone who needs genuine surprise to feel satisfied, that final turn might land flat. A few listeners have noted this, and they're not wrong. Predictability in a folk tale isn't necessarily a flaw — these stories are often about the telling, not the surprise — but your mileage will vary depending on what you're looking for.
The other thing worth flagging is the tone. This is family-friendly in structure, but Bardugo doesn't shy away from the grimmer realities of her world. Mentions of strung-up, dead, and skinned animals give the story a genuine edge. If you're thinking of this as a bedtime story for young kids, preview it first. For older children and adults who appreciate fairy tales with actual stakes, it's exactly the right temperature.
At 36 minutes, the question isn't really whether this is good — it is — but whether it's worth your time and money. Compared to Bardugo's other folk tales like The Witch of Duva, this one holds its own. The same quality of prose that rewards being heard rather than just read showed up in my experience with Daisy Jones and the Six, where the format itself became part of what made the story land. It's got the same DNA: clever characters, a world that feels lived-in even in miniature, and prose that sounds like it was written to be read aloud. As a gateway into the Grishaverse for the uninitiated, it's a charming entry point. For existing fans, it's a satisfying snack between meals.
Fortgang's performance elevates what could have been a simple short story into something worth listening to rather than reading. The humor comes through in her timing, and the emotional beats — particularly the fox's dawning realization about the limits of his own cleverness — hit harder when spoken aloud. This is one of those cases where the audio format genuinely adds to the experience.
The production itself is clean and straightforward — no music, no sound effects, just Fortgang and the text. For a folk tale, that's the right call. Anything more would have felt like decoration on something that doesn't need it.
Who Should Listen (And Who Should Skip)
Grishaverse fans looking for a bite-sized companion piece, folk tale lovers who enjoy stories with real teeth, and anyone curious about Bardugo's world but not ready to commit to a full novel — this is for you. Skip it if you need plot twists you can't see coming, or if darker fairy tale elements (dead and skinned animals, specifically) aren't your thing.
If I have one lingering thought, it's that Bardugo's real gift in these companion stories is making small things feel essential. The Too-Clever Fox isn't trying to be an epic. It's trying to be a perfect fable, and it comes remarkably close. The fact that a 36-minute story can leave you thinking about the nature of cleverness versus wisdom — without ever feeling preachy about it — says everything about what Bardugo does well.
Worth your time, easily finished in one sitting, and narrated by someone who clearly understands the material. Just don't expect to be blindsided by the ending.
