He wisely shut his mouth.
The little thing fell silent as well when I stood over it, too terrified to make a sound now. Not a human baby, but a white fox kit. Its snowy coat stood out starkly against the dirt and gloom of the forest around it. It cowered in its den, almost hidden in the grooves of a large root. Startling green eyes watched me as it shivered in its nest. I could see its small heart beating rapidly against equally tiny ribs.
I held out my hand and it sniffed the air before lifting its muzzle again and letting out a howl of fear. I squatted down and shushed it.
“There now, wee one,” I whispered. “I mean you no harm.”
It couldn’t understand me. It was a fox after all. But it responded to the gentle tone of my voice. It stopped its wailing and inspected my hand again. Sniffing the air with its tiny pink nose, it pushed against my fingertips before sinking little teeth into one of my knuckles. Its baby teeth tickled, and I laughed at its desperate attempt to protect itself.
“What a fierce one you are. Are you hungry?” I asked. It scooted forward, revealing more of its little body and beautiful white fur. In answer to my question, it sunk its teeth into the tip of my finger, gnawing as ferociously as it could. “Where’s your mama?” I let it nibble while I looked around the clearing at the base of the ravine for clues.
The feisty pup kept chewing on my finger until I retracted it. I stood up, feeling uneasy. A mama wouldn’t leave her pup on its own like this. The kit moved to the edge of its den, following me without quite leaving its home. Its squeaking yips punctuated the quiet.
“Is it by itself?” Oliver asked from overhead.
“As far as I can tell,” I called back. “It’s just a little thing.”
“That’s too bad,” he sighed. “It shouldn’t have to suffer in this godforsaken place.”
I agreed. Beside a tall patch of winding roots, blood dotted the bark, growing thicker the farther from the den I walked. Finally, I found the carnage.
The mother had been torn to pieces by something bigger and meaner. Next to the mother’s broken body lay another foxling, this one with rich red fur that almost absorbed the dried blood coating its hide. A few feet away was the mangled remains of a larger fox.
Gutted.
Drenched in blood.
“Dragon’s blood,” I whispered. The pup had lost its entire family.
I looked back at its green eyes watching me from the edge of that root and felt my chest split open with pity.
“The mother and father are dead,” I called up to Oliver. “And a sibling.”
“Then he’s lucky to be alive. Although he won’t stay like that for long.”
A pang pierced my chest.
“Tessana, we should go while we have the light. We need to find our way out of this hell.”
He was right about that too.
I leaned down and scooped the pup up. “He is apparently a she.”
I dropped the baby girl into my satchel and began the climb to the top of the ravine while she yelped and clawed at the leather. My mud-caked boots slid on the slippery leaves, kicking up dirt and twigs. When at last I surfaced and faced Oliver, he looked pristine compared to me.
Since it had been an equal amount of time since either of us had bathed, I could rightfully complain that it was unfair.
He pulled a twig from the savage strands of my hair. “How will you take care of her? She won’t survive with us, either. At least if you left her, you wouldn’t have to watch her suffer.”
Her.
I lifted my chin and knew I would find a way. “She lost her family, Oliver. She has no one.” Reaching back into my pouch, I pulled her free. Terror made her little claws seize my hand and she clung to me as if her life depended upon it.
I held her up for Oliver to inspect. “She’s terrified. We can’t abandon her.”
He leaned in and his voice dropped low. “Look at those green eyes. She is something special.”
“Isn’t she?”
