Blackfoot Forest come be the new string on my broken guitar

It is only after the fox is long gone that Taylor begins to realise this one had a family. It had a mother and a father and maybe it was even loved. When he thinks maybe it even had a brother, his face twists. He tosses it to the side, and it ragdolls over to a foot of a tree.
And so begins the long and arduous process of burial, which he only completes a quarter of the way before he sits down and puts his face in his hands.
A beat passes. A close-up of Taylor looking up, and even in the darkness, we see the just-healed scar on his neck. I see you, he croaks, squinting at a vague greyness in the black. The world is thrown into a black and white lithogram. He's washed out in silver, and the blood on his legs, on his chest, looks almost black.
He is unaware of the mountain lion passing nearby.