Fox's Glade death at a funeral

For @Toad.

 

It was such a beautiful glade, she thought, as the little creamy white woman pranced and frolicked throughout the open land. The morning was misty, the rains having mostly left but clinging on with a fine spray which shrouded the lands with a grey hue. She moved along the creek mindlessly, bright eyes seeking out the dotted spruce and boulder along the way, searching for something or someone that might tug her interest. She had only time on her paws, time which was against her. She needed to feed.