Blackfoot Forest toil and trouble

“Angry boy?” Fox muttered to herself. She could think of no angry boy that she knew, and so she assumed this little creature (no matter how old and sweet) knew nothing at all. “I think you’re full of shit,” she replied. She said this with no harshness in her voice, phrasing it as more of an obvious statement than an accusation. Fox was not a particularly superstitious wolf to begin with, and some old fox prattling on about something that made no sense made her all the more skeptical of things.

“Do you just go on about things all day, then?” she asked, taking an apprehensive step closer to the old hag. Fox did not think that the skulk would be able to hurt her, nor did she think that they would. They seemed attentive to the old woman, and she did not want them to think that her step forward was a threatening move.