(fantastic?) mr. fox

something weird is happening. it’s a groggy, half-formed thought drudged from the sleepy recesses of their brain, swirling at the forefront of their mind like water over a sinkhole. one eye blinks open, then the second, and Araneae squints into the distance as the forest comes into sharp relief. overhead, branches sway in a melodic rhythm, providing peaks of crisp blue sky between patches of treetop. the forest floor is bathed in golden light, gilded like the fantastical backdrops of those fairytales they’d loved so much as a child. now, however, it only serves to remind Araneae of how long they’d slept; the sun had been high in the sky when they’d settled beneath that tree for a nap, and now blue gives way to swathes of tangerine, marking the setting sun and the end of another day. yawning hugely, Araneae clambers to their paws and brushes clumps of moss impatiently from their mused pelt, spitting it out onto the ground with their teeth. They never really give much thought to grooming, but they can be especially prissy when it comes to discomfort – and hobbling around with thorns between your toes is nothing to sneeze at.

Araneae is just getting the last of the bark fragments from the fur along their flank when a sharp, distressed yipping sails through the air. they freeze mid-lick, ears pricking as they gaze widely about the glade. there. that’s what had woken them up. they could sense a strange presence nearby, even while dozing – like a burr in your paw pad, barely perceptible but irritating in its itchy persistence. eyes narrowing, the pup creeps forward through the glade, trying to place each step as quietly as possible. the fur along their nape bristles, and a tension radiates through the air, wound tight and ready to snap at a moment’s notice. the yipping sounds again, and Araneae pushes forward insistently through the undergrowth, eyes flicking wildly about as they follow the noise –

“oof!”

a flash of red barrels by, and Araneae lets loose a high-pitched squeal as they’re sent careening to the floor. they’re aware all at once of a great weight pressing down on them, and hot, putrid breath fans across their muzzle. chest heaving with frightened pants, Araneae cracks an eye and peers up at the creature hovering above them…and promptly wants to pass out. it’s a fox, all tall black ears and long, slender snout, its yellow teeth bared into a furious snarl. fear shivers down Araneae’s spine, gripping them so completely that it’s all they can do to tremble. their breaths come in quick, sporadic bursts as the fox bears down, applying pressure to their throat with its large paws. blind panic spurs them into action, and Araneae lifts a forepaw and slashes the fox’s muzzle, causing it to rear back in surprise and pain. wasting no time, they leap to their feet and scramble away from the fox, who eyes them with newfound wariness, blood welling up in the thin scratch. trembling, Araneae bares their teeth and emits a snarl – hoping to intimidate the creature into leaving them alone. in answer, the fox growls back, the sound low and rumbling; it seems to reverberate through Araneae’s very heart, freezing them in place. despair begins to set in; as much as it pains them to admit it, they’ve got no chance of beating this fox in a real fight, and with no backup racing in to save them…

and then they notice the way the fox trembles, its big yellow eyes wide and skirting feverishly around the glade. it’s shifting from foot to foot, seemingly undecided about whether it should attack or flee, and keeps darting forward only to stumble back again. realization dawns on them, so abruptly it’s like a blast of cold wind to the face: this creature is just as scared as them. brow furrowing at the very thought, Araneae takes a tentative step to the side, allowing the tiniest gap through which to leave the glade. the fox’s ears perk and it darts forward, then freezes and backs up again, eyeing them with deep mistrust. now with a growing sense of confidence, Araneae shuffles further to the left, taking bigger steps into they’re all but pressing into a tree trunk in their eagerness to get out of the way. the effect is instantaneous; the fox gives a pleased yip and dashes past, bottle-brush tail skirting low to the ground as it patters swiftly away.

heart thundering a staccato against their chest, Araneae stares after it with wide eyes, relief and disbelief sweeping through them all at once. they were alive! they hadn’t been consumed by a terrifyingly huge predator! buoyed by this notion, the pup sticks out their tongue and blows a triumphant raspberry, voice rising with each mocking note. “yeah, you better run! don’t come back or i’ll…i’ll box your ears, furball!”

"Speech"