Fox's Glade Time to play

And that is was for her, a game. Although it never would occur to her just what all might happen of she did not win it. Then again, what wicked witch were in their right mind to begin with? 

He snarled again, took a step (which she stepped back against) and another, and spoke something that had the damsel frowning and quite frankly, off put with how horribly rude he was being. Why, she hadn't not yet crossed his borders yet either and still, here they were! 

He charged, and she jumped, using every bit of quickness in her to dodge out of the way, sending only white furs of her puffing out into the dewy air. What a hateful boy you are! she cursed to the yearling, a hiss from her now wrinkled mug. If she had just left, as quick as she had before, she would have done well. But she had a craving, and it had been for far too long...

She supposed he was still quite young enough. Still growing, still pure and he was rude and oh, how she hated the rude! So she too would charge forth, jaws agape. But she was not a powerhouse, not by far, and so aimed to dance around him, circle and wind him. She would snap for his ankles, his tail, his groin and perhaps far to closely, his face...