The War for Eventyr

9 | You Idiot

Trygve glanced both ways as he passed beneath the swaying boughs. There were no earth-pelted foxes slipping through the trees, not here. This early in the morning, the two shifts would just be changing, beginning their patrol across the forest. No watchful eyes scanned these woods for now, and not a single squirrel strayed from their annual storing-of-acorns to spare him a glance as he passed over the border between Leaf and Shadow, racing back to his home in Hlodyn.

He found her, just where he expected. Hanging outside of her den in the early morning sun. But after regaling the tale of his time spent in a Shadowborn's clutches, he quickly regretted it.

"You idiot!"

Trygve had never heard the small vixen yip so loudly. It made his ears bleed.

"Be quiet, Dagny." He flinched, looking around to make sure she hadn't drawn every fox in the woods with her screaming. "You can't tell anyone."

"Like hemlock, I won't." She paced back and forth in front of him. "I wondered what could possibly have kept you from going to the Council meeting last night, but apparently it was to do something even more stupid."

Beneath the hurled insults, Trygve paused at the meaning within. "You went to the Gathering?" he asked in awe.

Dagny rolled her eyes. "No. I just check up on you sometimes. To make sure you're not embarrassing yourself."

Trygve sighed. There would be no chance of pleasant conversation. "So what are you saying?" he asked. "You're going to tell on me? Get me kicked out of the skulk?"

"You know your grandmother wouldn't let that happen, even if she were on her last breath." Her patronizing tone held sharp thorns, before a full-on snarl formed on her tongue. "But she would ground you for life. Y'know, like a kit, when they have scat for brains."

The vixen took a second to compose herself, before she met Trygve's eyes with genuine concern. "Why did you do something so reckless?" Her tone softened, and it was close to trembling. It was an emotion he rarely saw behind her constant shroud of sass. "You might've never made it back. Is the election really more important than your life?"

"It's not just about that." He peered into her moss-colored eyes, and he searched her maple-furred face. She was beautiful when she cared. "It's about making a real difference," he said. "The war is coming, and if we don't do something about it, we're all going to die."

She dropped her nose, for once admitting defeat. "You're still an idiot... but somewhat right." Then her tail flicked, and she glanced around. "So what are you going to do now? Do you think just having a blind vixen on patrol of the border is enough information to help the Council?"

At the mention of the silver-furred female, Trygve's mind found her image, locked away somewhere safe. He remembered every striking scar across her muzzle, the way they framed her sharp-boned features. The moonlight still danced on her fur, and he could smell the ice that clung to it. Then there was her near-black iris, as deep and homely as a hollow in an oak.

"Tree?"

He snapped back to Dagny. A determined grin tugged on his lips. "It isn't," he said. "Which is why I'm going back."

"You idiot..." she muttered, then she shook her head slightly. "There's no talking you out of it, is there?"

"Nope."

"Then I'm going, too." Dagny plastered on her own stubborn grimace and stepped toward him.

Trygve clicked his tongue. "But you can't," he said. "I need you here, to cover for me." He widened his eyes and smiled with all his teeth. "Please?"

The vixen blinked, unimpressed. "Fine. But only because you're a horrible liar on your own."

He laughed and licked her muzzle. "Thanks."

"But what is your plan?" she asked. "And how do you know she won't kill you this time?"

He shrugged. "I don't have one. And it's just a feeling, really." He had to see her again––to know the fox who had saved him. Trygve just wanted her name.

Maybe he really was an idiot.