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

@Remy; set shortly after this thread

They were nearly home, and Day was aching to be back with his kids - and back with Addie, subsequently. The woman's scent hadn't completely faded from their pelts, but he knew a trip through the Fox's Glade would take care of that. The place was ripe with the heavy musk of fox, and a little rolling around in the dirt both masked the scent and went a long way toward scrubbing it from their bodies. Unless Steady was already suspecting something like what'd happened and then proceded to give them each a thorough sniffing, Day was pretty sure their secret would be safe.

Next time, we gotta pick a woman that's not in heat, he thought to himself, and then he laughed, because it was a little weird to be thinking about a next time.

"Let's grab a couple foxes," Day suggested, wondering if Adeline would appreciate such a gift. Maybe she'd think it was funny, since a fox had hurt her not all that long ago. Then again, maybe she would think he was being insensetive? Day wasn't certain, but he thought he might risk trying to give one to her, anyway.

Remy's euphoric state was beginning to fade, leaving him crashing back to reality. What had he done? Grayday was the Beta, so if he'd done it too, then it couldn't have been that bad, right? But he also wasn't the Alpha, which meant that Steady had the final say. Day's suggestion of a hunt took Remy's mind off of the impending punishment for a moment, for which he was grateful. Sure. Yips filled the air alongside the thick musk of their prey, so he knew finding the little things wouldn't be the hard part. Catching them? That might prove a bit more difficult.

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."

Remy nodded in agreement and placed himself snout first toward the ground. His nose drifted over each leaf and twig, searching carefully for a scent trail in the opposite direction of his hunting partner. As he rounded a large tree with moss lining its side, he picked up the faintest traces of a nearby den. Remy barked for Grayday, summoning him near as he drew in on the site.

Day wheeled around at the sound of the bark. He'd been following his own trail, but who knew where that would've led him. It took him less than a minute to reach Remy, and as soon as he came upon the other male and the apparent densite, Day jumped in and began shovelling dirt aside.

The foxes in the den yapped and hissed from deep inside the earth, sometimes lunging as if to attack. Day tried to grab for them when they did this, and consequently, they moved in deeper, huddling at the back of the den. Whatever, though. They'd dig them out soon enough.

A lot of fighting preceded Remy's first victory in the hunt; his mouth found it's way around a small, extended arm and with a clenched jaw, he did his best to whip the life from the fox. The poor thing faught as hard as it could, though the harsh beating it took ended up leading to its demise. Remy dropped the corpse and looked over to Grayday with an accomplished smile on his maw. There lived one or two more, and it was obvious that their hunt wouldn't end until they were all caught.

One down, two to go! Day thought triumphantly, giving a soft woof of praise a he caught Remy's eye. He was still digging, stopping on occassion to see if he could force his way to the foxes yet. Eventually, the opening was made wide enough, and Day surged inside to clamp his jaws around the first patch of fur his nose brushed against. He could feel their demonic voices were screeching in his ears, but he ignored that and their vicious bites to secure his meal.

Dragging one out by its scruff, Day made short work of the fighting ball of red fur. He shook it, as Remy had, to stun the creature, and then quickly bit down on its neck. The fox went limp just as its fellow came bolting out of the foxhole in one last attempt at escape. Day started toward it, but Remy was closer.

Remy grinned approvingly as Grayday beat the small animal. He was so entranced by the graceful act that he nearly missed the last fox's retreat, though he was lucky enough to have regained his attention in time to snatch the critter by the tail and lift it into the air. A harsh bat was made at his face creating a tiny laceration on his cheek, at which point Remy dropped the beast and watched it run a few feet ahead. He stood and made for the meal, grabbing it by the neck and shaking his head as hard as he could. There were a few snaps here and there, telling him that he'd succeeded. Nice job, he told Grayday with a smirk written on his maw.

"Not so bad yourself," Day replied, spitting out his own catch and taking stock of the situation. They were both bleeding, but it was nothing too serious. It would keep until they got home. The foxes they'd caught were all healthy, and under their fur, he was sure they were strong and plump. It seemed that, despite the bad weather, their sun-kissed cousins had been doing well for themselves. "C'mon - home's a-wait'n," he sighed, picking up his kill and heading off toward the Stone Circle. They'd be back in no time, and Day was glad for it.

Fade?