Sparks and Ashes

He knew he must keep very still. The mouse seemed just inches from his paws, eating nonchalantly, completely unaware of the nearby danger. His nose twitched in anticipation as he inched himself closer to his prey. He had made his move too sudden. With a sharp squeak, the mouse jerked its head up and scurried away.

Thicket pounced, trying his best to stop it from escaping, but it was no use. The mouse disappeared from sight. Thicket’s paws caught nothing but air as they thumped back onto the ground. He growled, “Darn! I thought I had it.” It had been only inches away. He stalked away angrily, in search of something else.

Thicket was a pale fox who had just recently grown old enough to leave his birth-den. With his parents no longer by his side, he had to figure out how to make his way in the world on his own.

A mate would be nice… He thought, but he knew he couldn’t get too ahead of himself. I need to figure out how to catch difficult prey first! He could catch lizards pretty well, but nothing could ever beat the mammal meat he remembered his mother would often bring him when he was younger. He sighed. He had never quite realized just how treacherous the savanna and desert could be. He really could use the warmth of his mother right now…. What am I thinking? He shook himself. I’m a grown fox! I can get by without my family just fine.

Thicket pricked his ears to listen for any signs of potential prey. The chirping of the birds filled the air, and it was hard for him to focus on just what was on the ground. He sniffed the air to try and get a clue of what animals were near. He could sense that there was something close on the ground, perhaps a small mammal, like a rodent, or a family of them. He licked his muzzle. I won’t fail this time!

As he slowly and quietly crept closer, the scent got stronger. Now he could tell that this was probably a group of brush-furred mice nestled in the hollow of a tree trunk. He padded around the back of the tree trunk and lifted his ear against it. There was a clamor of squeaking, scuttling, and nibbling. He put a paw down quietly around the side of the trunk and brought his head down low, with his nose right outside of the opening. With his nose, he could tell that there was at least one mouse very close to him, although it thankfully hadn’t noticed him yet. He knew he needed to act before any of them did realize the danger lurking just outside their nest. With a rush of energy, he launched himself headfirst into the tree trunk and snapped until his teeth met flesh. A loud squeak and then a crack. Triumphant, he pulled his head out of the tree trunk, noticing all the scraps of fur left behind in the haste of the mice to get away.

 Thicket carried the mouse he caught behind a large boulder that seemed to offer some protection from other predators that might be looking to steal his prey. There was no way he was going to let anything get to his prey. He had caught this all on his own. It was the first time he had caught something as impressive as this, and he deserved every last bite! He dug in, letting the warm blood bathe his muzzle. It was just like living with his family again, only he was completely alone with no other foxes in sight. For the first time since leaving his mother’s side, he finally felt at home.

Once he had snarfed down the last bit of meat, he licked his muzzle in satisfaction. All that remained now were the bones. He looked up into the open sky, navigating where to go from there. Maybe he could find a mate after all. Can that really be any harder than catching a mouse?

Thicket padded onward, letting his paws and senses carry him wherever they may. He halted in his tracks when an odd scent filled the air. He stiffened as it wafted over him. Something wasn’t right. It was a strange, acrid tang. He knew he needed to turn and go the other way. He dashed away, deciding to head back to his makeshift burrow for now.

As Thicket came upon his burrow, another scent filled his nose. Fear gripped him as he rushed toward his burrow and sniffed around. It wasn’t that acrid tang. In fact, it was actually very familiar, almost sweet. He crawled through the hole into his den and looked around. No one was here now, but by the scent, he could tell someone had definitely been here while he had been gone. He had been out hunting for three days, which apparently, was enough for someone to think this den wasn’t being occupied anymore. He rolled his eyes. Hopefully that’s all it is, and not someone trying to steal my territory. I claimed this spot! He marked around the side of his den to make sure that the point stood that it was he who claimed it. And no one can take it away. Then he curled up and fell asleep.

A sudden yelp awoke Thicket from his slumber. He jerked his head up, only to see his own reflection staring back at him. Wait – no! He blinked the sleep out of his eyes. It was another pale fox standing in front of him. She was backing away slowly.

“I – I’m sorry – I didn’t realize this den was occupied. I – I’ll just go.” She turned around to leave.

“Wait–” Thicket called. The other fox turned to look at him in surprise. “Who – who are you?”

She blinked in confusion. “My name is Hollys. What are you after?”

“I – I’ve been wanting a… hunting partner,” Thicket responded. “My name is Thicket.”

“A hunting partner….” She snorted in amusement. “Okay, how about we go out right now?”

“Really?” Thicket’s heart thumped in his chest.

“Yes, really,” Hollys said, rolling her eyes.

It had been a while since he had eaten that mouse. He wasn’t so full anymore. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go!”

“You know,” Thicket said as he padded along with Hollys. “I once caught this mouse. It was the biggest mouse you would’ve ever seen.” When Hollys didn’t so much as respond, Thicket added, “And – and it put up the biggest fight. I had to use all of my hunting skills to bring it down, but it was worth it. The meat was the best tasting I have ever had.”

“I don’t believe you,” Hollys said.

“What? Do you not believe such a mouse exists?”

“No, I don't believe someone who makes this much noise could be capable of catching anything.”

“Hey!” He nipped at her playfully. She swatted at him in response.

Thicket and Hollys strode back to the den, carrying their kills – two lizards, a gerbil, and a bird that had been injured and stuck on the ground. They ate what they needed, then Thicket buried the rest toward the back of the den. The night wore on, and Thicket invited Hollys to come outside with him. He beckoned her to follow him and took her to the top of a large boulder where they could get a clear view of the stars glinting in the sky. 

“Wow, pretty stars,” Hollys expressed in admiration.

“Yes, they are pretty,” Thicket agreed. “But… I think… that you’re prettier.”

Hollys snorted in amusement. “I knew you weren’t just looking for a hunting partner.”

“Well, you did make a fine catch of that gerbil,” he mused.

“Yes.” She gave him a mischievous look. “And you’re just a lizard-fox.”

“Hey, I caught a bird too!”

She snorted. “One that was injured and couldn’t fly.”

“Still counts though,” Thicket muttered.

They found themselves curling around each other, tails intertwined, as they drifted off into sleep.

The next morning, they headed back to their den, seeking shelter from the heat as the sun rose over the horizon. There, they snuggled together once more, and Thicket licked the top of Hollys’s head as she fell back to sleep. They would eat the last of their caught prey, then, come nightfall, the hunt would once again be on.

Bounding through the tall grass, Thicket sniffed a thick meaty tang in the air. “Come on,” he said to Hollys. “This smells amazing!”

“Wait,” Hollys put in. “Are you sure about this? It’s not like anything I’ve ever–”

“What do you mean?” He sniffed the air again. “It smells like it’s been dead for a little while, so we don’t have to put in the work.”

“But what if there’s another predator nearby?”

“I don’t smell anything else.” Thicket said. “It’ll be alright.”

They came to the body of an antelope. The meat was almost completely gone, but there was some of it left. For foxes their size, it seemed like a lot.

“Come on, Hollys, you should dig in,” Thicket said before sinking his teeth into the meat of the leg, himself.

“Thicket,” Hollys whispered. “I just get this feeling that something – something isn’t right.”

Thicket was too busy munching to pay much attention to her worries. But then, a cascade of barking erupted in the air. His ears shot up, and he lifted his head. A canine larger than him came plowing out from the trees. With a yelp of surprise, he bounded back to Hollys.

The larger canid came upon them and snatched Hollys’s tail. She gave a loud yelp of terror.

Thicket let out a volley of barking and snarled as he snapped at the larger canid’s leg. He sunk his teeth into the meaty flesh and shook instinctively. The canid dropped Hollys and reared on him. He let go of its leg and tried to dodge a swipe of its paw, but it collided with him and threw him off balance. He scrambled to his feet and looked behind the canid for Hollys. She wasn’t there. His moment of distraction allowed the canine to lunge toward him. He felt its claws rake his flank, and its teeth caught in his ear. He used as much of his strength as he could to pull away.  He suddenly found himself tumbling backwards. He ran as fast as he could to get away, too disoriented and afraid to pay any attention to where he was going.

Thicket found himself falling, unable to process where he was going to end up, then with a crack, everything seemed to still.

Thicket’s ears were ringing. He could hear other noises around him, but he dared not open his eyes. He didn’t want to know where he was. He couldn’t even tell for sure if he was still alive.

“Thicket!” That was strange. It sounded like his–

He abruptly opened his eyes.

“Thicket.” The fox in front of him stared at him. “Are you okay?”

Thicket tried to stand up, but his back ached, and he fell back down.

“Oh, Thicket…” Hollys said solemnly. Thicket sensed that there was more to her sad tone than she was letting on.

“I’ll help support you back to your den,” she said. As he tried getting up again, she supported his side. They began trodding along, side by side. It was a hard walk back, and they had to stop a lot for Thicket to catch his breath, but they finally made it back, and Thicket settled down to rest in peace. He closed his eyes and felt Hollys’s tongue on his head. Her heavy sigh filled his ears, and he realized her pawsteps were fading away. He opened his eyes to see her walking toward the opening of the den.

She turned her head back to look at him, before turning away again and crawling out of the burrow. Thicket realized with a heavy heart that this was probably goodbye. He hung his head and drifted off to sleep.

An acrid tang wafted in the air. Thicket whimpered in his sleep, his back still sore.

Acrid tang! He jolted awake. He saw a cloud of smoke just outside his burrow. It was coming in through the hole. He felt choked. Just then, he heard a blast of something going up in flames just outside. The acrid tang! Smoke! Fire! He couldn’t think properly. He watched in horror as the roots on the side of his den, which were helping to support it, burst into flames, and some of the side caved in, almost on top of him. The flames were licking up the side and spreading around him, and the smoke, now surrounding him, threatened to choke him to death. He had to get out, but he didn’t know if his injury and the smoldering smoke and flames would permit him. As the other side of the den went up in flames, he dashed toward the hole. The thick acrid smoke poured in as he scrambled up the side. He coughed, and his eyes burned.

With one last push of his legs, he finally made it out. Bewildered, he saw that fire was all around him. Trees were blazing everywhere, with the smoke almost suffocating him. Thicket ran as fast as he could with his back injury. He couldn’t pay attention to how sore it was when his first priority was to get out of the fire and not suffocate. He didn’t know how long he had to run before he would find clear air, but he was determined.

When he made it out of the forest and far enough away from the fire, he stopped and gasped for breath. He lied down where he was to rest, but he didn’t rest long. He wanted to cover more ground to be sure he was truly safe from the fire.

He came to a river and lapped at the water, taking in the freshness. When he saw his reflection, he realized he had a chunk torn out of his ear. From the canid…. That seemed so long ago now, even though it really hadn’t been. But the sudden fire had clouded all of his thoughts.

He jerked his head up. Hollys! What had happened to her? He wondered. His heart thumped in his chest. She had left him, but he hoped she was okay. He was too exhausted and disoriented to do anything, and he drifted off into sleep.

The cawing of a bird awoke him. He stood up, ignoring the pain in his back. How long has it been? He made his way back toward the forest, wanting to see if the danger was gone – and the damage that had been done.

The fire was gone, but the acrid tang filled the air. Thicket investigated everything, trying to figure out as much as he could about the situation. He was careful to not step on anything that he sensed was still hot.

He spotted a lump laying on the ground. He padded closer to it.

His heart plummeted in his chest when he saw what – and who – it was. It was a pale fox. Hollys.

He whimpered, nudging her limp and charred form. “Oh, Hollys….”

How could this have happened? He curled around her, entwining his tail with hers, and drifted off into a very long sleep.