Hidden breakfast

The slender young woman was on the hunt. Not for food or water, but for mushrooms. This place seemed dank, dark and dreary, but it was the perfect place to harvest what she needed. Cicero was an herbalist of sorts. She was a little bit Gypsy. A little bit witchy. Equal parts mad woman and shy, sweet girl. She was a mystic. An entrepreneur. A scientist and a sister. And right now she just needed some damn mushrooms with which to make tea.

Aha! Silver eyes gleamed in triumph as the sleek, obsidian and ash lady found her quarry. A mound of mushrooms was nestled in the crook of some roots. Mmm, but it seemed like there was someone there. What should she do? Cicero was a pacifist. Sort of. Well, she couldn't fight, that was for sure. That was why she usually had one of her many siblings with her. But not today. No. Today she was on her own. Should she leave and come back later? Should she just sneak forward and hope that the fox didn't see her? No, that wouldn't work. Idiot. In the end, she plucked up her courage and walked awkwardly forward.

"You there. Small, orange cat-dog." Yes, she knew it was a fox, but Cicero had a thing about words. She couldn't explain that thing, but it was indeed a thing. "I need those mushrooms, savvy? Don't bite or I swear by the wind in the trees that I'll curse you and yours until the end of time." The woman wiggled her black toes to add emphasis. She was bluffing, but the fox didn't know that.