Blackfoot Forest give me the souls and the flocks that you wish

she smelled the fox before she saw it. the odorous nature of a living fox was well known to most, but once dead, the stench did not seem to leave. if anything, it became worse as rot took over the flesh. the smell lingered across the water while she, standing at the bank, watched the man as he worked. she dipped her head coyly towards the surface and began to lap up the much needed fluid, hoping he hadn't seen her staring - and then the fox was at her feet, and his voice carried to her.

rosings... she murmured, parroting him, and almost added, how quaint. but it was not her place to judge. she did like the forest, and she was growing to like this man if only for the sweetness he presented to her. it had been a long time since she had such company. hosannah turned to regard the fox corpse and settled upon her haunches by it, but did not move in to eat just yet - though her stomach yearned for it. 

her next request was hesitant. i would like to see the flowers, if they were grand enough to name his people after them, they must indeed be beautiful. but you have given so much already. i am thankful - a smile, well practiced, lights up her face. then she bows to the fox and begins to pick away at it. once enough of it has been torn and swallowed, she licks her lips and regards the man again. having been watered, her throat is not so resistant to use. - i feel as if i.. owe you. you did not need to help me, after all.