Cricket Creek Bog nothing arrived

strangely the fox seems completely unperturbed by delight and his very sharp teeth. he frowns at the small creature, slightly put-off that his bluff has been called; there's really no way in hell he's got the energy to chase or maim the thing. "we are not," he says, scandalized, but maybe it's got a point in the second half there. but then again, "and because your lot steal food. and you're annoying," the boy adds, sticking out his tongue. he might be a yearling, but the singing-sunlight is still immature - childish, really. he sits in the mud, making a face as his body sinks slightly. gross. "well, whatever, you got a name?"