Hello Sweet fox! Where are you?
Oh! There you are! By that rock.
What do you have there, Sweet fox? Oh some hazelnuts! Those are your favourite thing!
Oh you're sad..? I'm sorry to hear that sweet fox. Why are you sad?
Oh! You're lonely?! Why don't you find a vixen?
You're too shy? Aww, Sweet fox. I see that you're nodding in agreement.
It's a good thing that I can read sweet fox's mind. It's a long story, but I'll just give you the basic points.
I, am a whisper. Yeah, you got it, a whisper. I could be anywhere! Behind you, around you, above or below, and...you can't see me, just hear me. I wasn't always a whisper, but that's a long story.
Sweet fox, is a fox now, yes, but sometimes, when the moonlight hits him in a certain way, he becomes a human. I think I'm the only friend Sweet fox has. I hang around him..a lot.
He is a victim of the 'Night Shade', when it comes over him. On a cloudy night, we may be out together, until Sweet fox starts to feel nausea, then he feels weak, then, he feels human. He says that changing hurts, he can feel it inside out.
He awakes as a tall, young man, with long hair, as white as snow. Eyelashes that flutter pure white as well. In fact, I often make light of his lack of any kind of colour as a human being. Red as fire, as a fox, white as snow as an albino man.
When this takes hold of him, he wonders the Forrest, lost, and frightened sometimes. His wit and cunning abandon him, and he feels the cold of the night against his naked body. I sometimes dash around him quickly, to generate him some warmth, then fly on ahead to look for a shelter for him, until the shade leaves.
This is such a peculiar curse.
He seems at home with different aspects of life in both states. But, I have found I have to look after him less, when he's Sweet fox.
I can do all kinds of things, often in aid of Sweet fox. I can also, momentarily, take control of someone. Life as a whisper, certainly has its advantages!