Broken Antler Fen that terrifies you

The fox spoke again, and while it was clear that it was using language to communicate, Jackalope had to squint and flick his ears forward to try and decipher meaning from the words. It was the tone of voice, he thought- or perhaps was it an accent? There was clearly something that it was saying which, to its own kind or perhaps a wolf more versed in understanding the smaller canids, was clearly a language with inflection and flow. Almost intelligible, he thought- but he'd not spent much time trying to understand foxes. It reminded him of the few times he'd tried to understand young children; while their mothers and fathers were perfectly capable of understanding what their young were saying, Jackalope could never quite puzzle it out. 

Nevertheless, it seemed to be pleading with him. Given the fact he hadn't charged or threatened it, he assumed it wasn't pleading for its life. The only other thing he could assume the fox would want, then, would likely be food. Foxes and coyotes almost always looked hungry anyway. "What, you coming around here like a little beggar, asking for handouts?" He asked, with a snide smile. He was aware he might've looked a bit off, trying to hold a conversation with a creature he didn't fully understand- but Jackalope was exactly the sort of wolf who would talk to whatever he pleased- whether his conversation partner was an inanimate object, or a sentient being like this one.