Blackfoot Forest toil and trouble

In the warm night, Fox traveled to Blackfoot Forest. She often came here to think in the darkest hours, knowing few others liked to be bothered by the constant buzz of fox noises that permeated the air. Fox, on the other hand, adored the small, cat-like things. Perhaps it was only due to her name and likened appearance, but she could not help herself. They were adorable in their own right, and Fox had always felt rather fond of them.

A raspy voice caught her attention, and Fox tilted her head as she listened. It sounded like nonsense, and yet she was intrigued. What she saw through the darkness was a blind old hag. Fox wondered if she would get to be that old someday, and figured she might as well pester the old thing while she was in the vicinity. “What did you say?” she asked, having missed the majority of what the blind old woman had spoken.