Fox's Glade a lotta men didn't; a lotta men died

Fortunately, the little rascals were easy to track down and even easier to spot amongst the mixed mud and leaf-litter that made up the foret floor. Everything was varying shades of brown and gray, so Day could pick out the darting little foxes with a lot more accuracy than was usual for him. Foxes were cool like that.

But they were also quick, and Day wasn't really up for a chase. He'd sort of worn himself out. "Let's find a den and dig them out," he suggested, putting his nose to the ground and meandering through the woods, looking for a trail. "Holler if you find one."