Roan barked again, spear ready as he and Splinter plunged through the snow toward the fox. The hunter pulled its head from the bakery and looked up at the pair, its mouth smacking as it ate something. Roan’s heart sank until he saw a few crumbs fall from the beast’s mouth. It was only eating Maple’s fruit ’n nut bread.
The creature plunged its head back in the snow, and Roan heard another screech.
“Maple! Throw it more bread!” he yelled, edging closer to the fox.
The beast jerked its head, then dove its face back into the bakery, snuffling. Maple must have hit it on the nose. He got a good look at the creature as he bullied forward. Its sides were sunken in behind its ribs, as though it hadn’t eaten in quite some time, and its orange fur was matted and scraggly in places, giving the beast an overall appearance of ill health.
It shivered as snowflakes drifted down around it, clinging to its back. The creature’s meager body heat had melted some of them, the water undoubtedly penetrating its fur. Roan grimaced. If it didn’t feed, it was clear this skeleton of a fox would die long before the warmth of spring melted the snow.
“You are starving,” he bellowed in his baritone voice.
All of Evershade grew instantly quiet so that only the gentle sound of falling snow could be heard. The fox looked up at him and Splinter, swallowing.
“Yes.” Its voice was female.
“We will protect ourselves.”
The fox swallowed again. “Not hunting in Evershade.”
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