The Forest

-5-

The fox was woken by a thump sound. It was her ears that pricked up before she opened her eyes, so delicately tuned to the world around her that even a fledging's chirrup couldn't go unheard. Her inkwell eyes rolled open a moment later, no more than slits. And she kept very, very still.

The sound seemed have come from somewhere just outside of her den, perhaps another animal snuffling for food, or just as likely an invader to her domain. The consequences of her last scuffle was a punctured ear— air quivered through the tear as she eased her ears up and down, listening for more disturbances outside of the den. The battle wound went straight through the fur and flesh, a hole big enough for Azure or any of the Winged to fly through, almost a perfect circle. She had been only a cub at the time. The attacker, a mangy badger with missing teeth and fowl, stringing fur, had been worse off in the end. When the battle had been won, she had dragged the wounded animal all the way across the forest and to her little friend, leaving it at the foot of her oak tree. The badger had disappeared by morning.

A few minutes passed and all remained still outside, silent aside from the gentle quiver of the wind. There was no badger, and there was no threat.
She lifted her head from between her paws and sniffled at the air. Something was different.

With a yawn that curled her tongue backwards, the fox untucked herself from the donut shape she was currently huddled in. Her tail sprinkled a little loose dirt on her head as it swept out and almost caused her to sneeze, but a snort allowed her to keep quiet. The short wriggle through the tunnel took her up to the surface, where she first poked her snout out of the den, two ears popping out a moment later, before finally her paws and fuzzy body followed. It only took a single breath of the air her to seize up.

Cold. White. New. The fox had no concept of snow, but she recognised the sudden sensory shift as something bright and alluring, a chill that shivered through her whiskers. It took a moment for her to take in the aroma of the air, or lack thereof. Her woodland home had transformed overnight and was now an unfamiliar tangle of smells and bright lights.
She tentatively treaded one paw out of her lair and tested the new ground. No dangers were found in the prickle and crunch. Next came the sniffling at the air, then yipping when the taste was cool and clean, alive.
She yawned, the moon glinting against her rows of yellow fangs.

Whether it was the shade of the moonshine or the smell of the air, something told her it was time.

She scampered out into the dark of the forest, blue scarf trailing from her holed ear. Flitting tracks were the only sign that she had ever treaded paw on this land of the forest, and those would be gone come sunrise. More snow was coming to bury them.

White shadows slogged down from the mountains in the north. Snow clouds are not so different from thunderclouds aside from the inverted colours; both are heavy, a total blanket that shrouds the sky and sometimes the earth itself, a cold and foreboding presence over the world. But occasionally, when the night is quiet and calm, a shroud of white cloud can take the edge off the dark.

The forest had been softened by snow. Crystals twinkled on every surface and watered the usual black of the shadows. Like stars fallen from the sky, as Lyn had said.

Lucius and Avery were warm, more so than usual due to the heavy mound of snow piled up on the tent walls acting as a thermal blanket. The two of them were asleep, side by side, not quite touching. They would wake up in a few hours very warm, very rested, and with Avery's hand curled into Lucius'. Exactly who took whose hand during the night couldn't be said.