Fox's Glade Now, With Nothing but a Dirty Bag On My Back

Huddled in the shadows, Iqniq watched and waited. The female had moved to join him, lowering herself to the ground as she watched not the glade, but him. He was aware of her eyes, but paid them no attention. Her curiosity seemed far more piqued than anything else and she was of little consequence to him so long as she stalked in silence with him.

Nares flared as he scented the air. This was the place. The forest was ripe with their presence. With their droppings. With their tuffs of fur. Silver... not red, he noted. A different breed than the common red which plagued his home. Their coloration suggested they might blend more in the winter months when the earth was covered in silvery white. Better to hunt them now while they stood out against the blaze of autumn leaves.

His tail swished impatiently behind him as he waited. He knew not how long it was he lingered, but eventually his patience paid off. A pair of foxes pounced onto the scene, tossing a field mouse between them as they celebrated a recent kill. How perfect. He could manage both of them and have an extra little snack for his kids back home.

He tensed, coiling in anticipation of a strike as he waited for the opportune moment. Now. He sprang, disrupting the peace of the otherwise oblivious silver foxes with the sharp promise of his teeth.