txteclipse
The Last
- 2,322
- Posts
- 16
- Years
- Age 33
- Riverside
- Seen Aug 20, 2023
This is a story inspired by a dream. Special thanks to Miz en Scène, POKEMON_MASTER_0, and my wife for beta reading! Also thanks to Necrum for having a ready example of how to do fixed-width posts!
The Little Fox
The little fox wriggled under the juniper bush, the scent of bruised needles and fog-damp loam stinging her nose. The morning world was gray as wet ash: down in the deep shelter of the juniper stand, where insects scratched and dry needles crackled, she could only just make out the shapes of her mother and siblings.
"Ma," she whined. "I'm back."
The largest shadow roiled. There was a sound of scraping claws, then fetid breath washed over the little fox's muzzle as a hot, dry tongue licked her brow. "Sweetheart, darling," her mother crooned. "Did you bring it? Your brothers and sisters are hungry."
The little fox looked at the small shapes lying under the innermost branches of the juniper bush. "Yes mother," she replied. The smell of juniper was strong, but there was another smell.
"Good girl," her mother said. "Drag it down so we may eat!"
The little fox obediently crawled out from under the bush, finding by its coppery scent the pheasant she had caught. Its feathers tickled the roof of her mouth as she took hold of it and tugged. "Oh little ones, are you sure?" she heard her mother say as she backed into the juniper bush. The needles pricked her haunches and tail.
"Your siblings told me they weren't hungry after all," mother fox said before taking the pheasant. Bones cracked and crunched as she ate. After a few gulps, she tore off part of the bird with a snap and nudged it to the little fox's feet. "Eat, dear one, beloved," she lilted.
The little fox bent her head and sniffed at the portion. It was a wing, mostly feathers with a pitiful amount of meat along the bone. "Ma?" she asked, timid. "May I have a little more?"
"Oh, my dear kit, I'm sorry! I didn't give you enough, did I? Poor growing girl. Here, eat your fill." The large shadow that was her mother moved away from what remained of the pheasant.
The little fox approached, feeling for the carcass with her paws. She stepped in warm wetness and lowered her head to the meat. Her teeth were small and her jaw was not as strong as her mother's: her bites stumbled around unseen bones. Mother fox watched with eyes that gathered the growing light like a bowl gathering rain.
When the little fox had finished eating, it was brighter under the juniper bush. The dark shapes of her siblings had not stirred. Her lips curled from her red-stained teeth, and then she sneezed, shaking her head. "Ma, it smells."
"Smelly family," her mother agreed with a grin, white teeth flickering in the early blue light.
"Ma," she whined. "I'm back."
The largest shadow roiled. There was a sound of scraping claws, then fetid breath washed over the little fox's muzzle as a hot, dry tongue licked her brow. "Sweetheart, darling," her mother crooned. "Did you bring it? Your brothers and sisters are hungry."
The little fox looked at the small shapes lying under the innermost branches of the juniper bush. "Yes mother," she replied. The smell of juniper was strong, but there was another smell.
"Good girl," her mother said. "Drag it down so we may eat!"
The little fox obediently crawled out from under the bush, finding by its coppery scent the pheasant she had caught. Its feathers tickled the roof of her mouth as she took hold of it and tugged. "Oh little ones, are you sure?" she heard her mother say as she backed into the juniper bush. The needles pricked her haunches and tail.
"Your siblings told me they weren't hungry after all," mother fox said before taking the pheasant. Bones cracked and crunched as she ate. After a few gulps, she tore off part of the bird with a snap and nudged it to the little fox's feet. "Eat, dear one, beloved," she lilted.
The little fox bent her head and sniffed at the portion. It was a wing, mostly feathers with a pitiful amount of meat along the bone. "Ma?" she asked, timid. "May I have a little more?"
"Oh, my dear kit, I'm sorry! I didn't give you enough, did I? Poor growing girl. Here, eat your fill." The large shadow that was her mother moved away from what remained of the pheasant.
The little fox approached, feeling for the carcass with her paws. She stepped in warm wetness and lowered her head to the meat. Her teeth were small and her jaw was not as strong as her mother's: her bites stumbled around unseen bones. Mother fox watched with eyes that gathered the growing light like a bowl gathering rain.
When the little fox had finished eating, it was brighter under the juniper bush. The dark shapes of her siblings had not stirred. Her lips curled from her red-stained teeth, and then she sneezed, shaking her head. "Ma, it smells."
"Smelly family," her mother agreed with a grin, white teeth flickering in the early blue light.
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