Blackfoot Forest toil and trouble

Ten heads with ten golden eyes materialized from the shadows around the grumbling matriarch, blinking suspiciously at Fox. The old woman herself whipped round as fast as her withered body would allow, squinting blindly in the direction of the voice.

”Archibald!” she barked hoarsley. ”Put the tea on - the guests are arriving. I must prepare my whiskers.”

No-one by that name had existed for years (nor would there be tea served that evening), but a number of smaller, younger foxes scurried out of their hiding places at once. Nanna wasn’t one to be left waiting. Aided by a small male whose aggressive bout of mange made him look older than his two years, Ramona stalked stiffly in the direction of the cave that served as the troop’s hub.

”That boy will disappoint you, sweet-moon!” she shouted back at Fox, and snapped something at a small, bright red girl that hovered nervously at the elder’s shoulder. Damara - that was her name - scurried back to where Fox stood, beckoning her forward with urgent gestures.