More Than a Fox

Nick had enough food and supplies stored up for the season. He wasn't sure why he wanted to leave his warm den in the middle of this frigid, snowy winter, but for some reason he felt the urge to leave the safety of his home and stretch his legs.

He looked around at his warm den; a small fire crackled in his dug out fireplace, keeping the fox hole warm. The den was relatively small due to Nick having to dig it out himself; the work gave him an incentive to go for that "cozy" hole in the ground look for his home. Nonetheless he was highly satisfied with it.

Making and furnishing a place does that, and with a swell of pride he could look at his place and rightfully say 'mine.' He had even made his home's bed out of the fabrics he traded with the racoons and weasels that he occasionally would see in the forest.

Nick loved taking the bolts of fabric that he would trade his fish and bird meat for, and weave them into warm blankets and clothing for himself. His father, when he was still alive to show Nick the ins and outs of being a fox in this dog eat dog world, taught him the trade of sewing and knitting. It was one of the things Nick prided himself on the most. Not just a fox, Nick could hear his father say.

Nick's mother and father made it very clear that this world was dangerous and that most mammals would do whatever they had to do to survive. But they wanted Nick to remember that he could be more than what the world saw him as.

He didn't have to be a sly trickster or a cruel predator. And for this reason, Nick learned how to catch fish and birds so he wouldn't need to hurt other mammals for food. He would scavenge for berries, roots, and bugs, and he would make his own clothes from fabrics.

More than what the world sees you as, he heard his father say again.

Nick dressed in a light gray tunic that he had finished stitching together the previous night.

Not bad, right dad? He thought to himself as he slid the cloth on.

He gathered up a bag for any foraging he might do, as well as his trusty red bandana his mother stitched together for him when he was still a kit. He often found himself clutching at it when thinking of his parents.

"Hmmm, forage bag… check, warm clothing… check, trusty bandana… check… stunning good looks and a charming smile… Double check."

After counting off everything he needed for his little winter expedition Nick said goodbye to his empty den and went into the forest.

It was not a beautiful snowy day. Calling it frigid would be putting it mildly, the snow was about a foot deep and the wind had a strong chill, but when Nick had the impulse to leave the den he had to go or risk going stir crazy. He reasoned it was a side effect of being lonely since his parents had passed.

He looked up to the sky in thought, the stars were out in all their glory … Oh.

He realized what was bothering him, It must be getting close to when mom got sick.

The memories were never easy for the tod. When his mother became ill, there was little they could do but wait it out, and when the illness persisted, it went from waiting it out to keeping the vixen comfortable.

She died a week later.

Nick's father was so heartbroken over her passing that it didn't take long for his father's health to decline and follow his wife's path soon after. A tear couldn't help but roll down the fox's cheek.

The memories were now flooding back with a full force.

A young tod, fifteen years old sat next to a bed with a sickly older tod, their green eyes locking on each other.

"Son, I'm sorry, I don't think I'll be stickin' around much longer."

John Wilde hated saying those words to his son. The boy was too young to be on his own, but the fact of the matter wasn't pretty- he was dying. And with no one else to look out for the teen fox, he knew this was the last chance to help his son. To let him know that he had value and not to give up on the world.

Nick was hunched over his father lying in a bed, he clutched onto his father's paw, "Dad, you can't just leave me here! I- I-"

"Listen Nicky, you're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for-'' his words were cut short with a sharp string of coughs and wheezes before he continued. "Me- me and your mom raised you, and you have her heart and my paws, and a wit sharper than both of ours, we-"

Another bout of sickly coughs ensued. "We know you can make it on your own. Sh- she was so proud of you Nicky." He looked his son in the eyes, "I'm so proud of the mammal you became, son. More than you'll ever know. We both love you more than anythin' in this world."

John's body relaxed. "I'm feeling tired, Nicky, I think I'm gonna sleep for a bit, ok?" with that John closed his eyes.

"Dad, no.. no! No, don't sleep! Please talk to me! DAD! No…

After that he had to bury his father next to his mother.

The following week he left their den with whatever he could carry and set off on his own. The memory faded to the back of his mind. If one had been watching, they may have noticed the wet trail that ran down the tod's snout.

He was so appreciative of the time he had with his parents, but the last 5 years had been lonesome without them. Oh how he wished to see another fox! Most animals, despite his unorthodox way of living, would avoid him.

They still saw a shifty, dangerous fox. Nick's paw clutched his bandana before using it to wipe his eyes. He looked at his surroundings. While caught up in his thoughts he had inadvertently walked further than he was expecting to... by a mile.

"Of course," a tinge of bitterness and frustration was present in his voice, "Of course I would be so stupid. I-" Nick's sentence died in his throat and his body stiffened at what his eyes had just caught. Oh sweet Karma… this isn't good.

The crimson colored spot in the snow was small, but it was undeniably there. He leaned in to give it a whiff to be sure, blood.

It was only a small patch of it, but it was without a doubt that sweet iron scent that came from mammals. He gave it another deep inhale with his canine nose, rabbit.

Nick became pensive. Normally, he tried to avoid prey since they would run from him screaming or do their best to look like a threat. Rabbits, being the natural enemies of foxes, were certainly not what Nick wanted to deal with.

Okay. Okay, Nick, this is the part where you turn back home, stoke the fire and curl up in a ball in your warm comfy bed.

Despite his inner insistence, he couldn't budge from the spot.

Okay foot, just move that way. His brain signalled towards the house, but he still couldn't move.

Nick let out an exasperated gasp, why couldn't he move? And then the words hit him,

Nicky dear, his mother's voice was clear in his mind- You can show the world that a fox can be more than what they see us as. Show them Nicky.

Nick remembered the family creed that his mom and dad made him say when he was nine. The Wilde's Honor.

"I, Nicholas Wilde, promise to be brave, loyal, helpful, and trustworthy." The words echoed in his head, and, with a sigh, Nick took another breath of the blood and began to follow the scent.

It didn't take long for him to see another splotch of blood on the path, followed by another and another. He whined in discomfort, I hope they're still okay.

The scent trail became thicker as he followed, and it wasn't just one, other rabbit scents began to fill his nostrils.

"I guess they're ok, if they have others with them..." He mumbled to himself not fully believing his own words.

He was about to turn back when his eye caught something in the snow. Fur? He crouched to examine the little bundle of fur, only to realize that it wasn't a stray tuft, but attached to something buried in the snow.

The fox began to easily dig through the snowpile, where his paw found a little frame underneath the white powder. The smallest rabbit doe he had ever seen was lying still in his paws, she was cold, her sandy brown fur and tiny bit of clothing far too inadequate to stave off the weather.

On her head she had a sizable gash that was obviously the source of the blood trail he had followed. How did this little thing even make it this long out here?

He looked back down at the snowpile to see a few other still bodies lying in the cold snow. It was clear that they had been sharing their warmth before they fell asleep and the snow started to build over them.

The fox surmised that they must've been running from something until they tuckered themselves out. Nick quickly pulled them out from the heat sucking powder and into his arms with the other bunny. Three little rabbit kits in total.

Nick bundled them up together in between his arms and tried to figure out his next step.

What in Karma's name am I gonna do with three rabbit kits! I'm not exactly trained in fluff management…

Whatever his worries, Nick knew he couldn't leave them. No, he was beyond the point of no return now that he found them, his parents would be so disappointed if he had left them in the snow- it would be the same as leaving them to die.

But what am I supposed to do, take them home and play nurse? He thought, before tensing up…

"Oh no…"

At that thought, Nick's decision was made, and with an empty foraging bag (soon to be a makeshift bunny carrier,) and a red bandana clutched tightly in one paw and three newfound guests, Nick made his way home.