Hushed Willows a plaintive cry for aid

You have been randomly selected (via dice roll) to receive a surprise!

There is a quiet keening on the edge of the willows, something not heard there very often. It is eerie to hear in the cold, quiet twilight. It sends other small fauna scattering, fearing for their lives. What monster does the night bring?

The beast emerges from the shadows. It is. . .a baby fox, born unusually early in the year, and lost from his mother.

No more than a couple of moons old, the child keens, eyes darting to and fro. He is a burst of red through the pale, drab colors of winter, barely camouflaged from those that would harm him. He breathes hard and fast, and paces in circles, unsure of his next move. What to do, what to do? Mommy has always told me what to do.

He scratches at the frost-hardened ground, clearly at wits' end.

 

Written by @Lily

---