The Fox

There was a little fox. Well, not very little. In human terms, he was no more harmful than a house cat, but in fox terms, he was the biggest of his kind. He was a grumpy orange ball of fur with amazingly long ears. No one messed with him. No one heard his voice, but everyone in town knew that when he spoke, the ground shook. He never looked up at people. People knew that one look into his red, fierce eyes would kill all those foolish enough to try to look. He was savage, ruthless, and deadly. The biggest fox in town had the smallest beating heart and no one knew his name.

Not even himself.

One day, someone looked.

Dust rose from his calloused paws as he wandered and searched through the city. The poor cubs hide behind their mothers. Doors close, stores darken, and all who can close their eyes do so.

Feet firmly planted on the ground, he runs toward the town. All the people tremble with fear.

Ten seconds pass before they realize he is gone.

He kept running.

In the forest, lurking in the shadows, you can hardly tell if a furry pompom was staring at you instead of a living animal. The fox was hiding under the canopy of the largest elephant leaf.

He was never innocent.
He was never guilty.

interesting

weird