Even though it had been centuries ago, the memory hit him with a force that rendered him blind to everything around him. The pain that lanced his side from the long gash made by their swords, her cries as they dangled her body above his, taunting him and his futile efforts to free her, her foot caught in the cruel steel teeth of the trap, the blood dripping into his face, coating his muzzle, the taste of her on his tongue.
Iron, blood, pain, fear, anger, helplessness.
His memories writhed around his head like a bloody haze that refused to
dissipate. He had been discarded for the battle scars that ‘ruined’ his otherwise
beautiful pelt. He lay in pain as the amateur hunters took her away and left
him bleeding on the ground from sword-inflicted wounds from when he had tried
to stop them from taking her away.
For her fur, she had to die. Or maybe it was
her unusual appearance that attracted attention. He regretted ever running out
into the paths of humans in the quiet back roads that crisscrossed the
countryside and occasionally through the forest. Both he and his consort knew
the forest they inhabited had been gradually diminishing, thinking they had all
the time in the world to find another place. When one had been living for
thousands of years, things like time meant nothing of importance. However, this
small ignorance on their part was the catalyst that resulted in her death.
the foolish humans even stop to wonder what they had caught? A freak of nature
perhaps? She with her nine tails and creamy pelt like no other fox had.
had come in the night, when they were drowsy and curled up with full stomachs.
They must have tailed him as he trotted back to their den with that day’s catch
caught between his jaws. They came with fire and swords drawn, sharp metal
things that almost bled him dry as they cut him to shreds for biting them and
trying to remove the trap that held his mate.
Those wounds had taken what
seemed like forever to heal even with the amount of power his mate had left him
with. He remembered her eyes, shining liquid black in the firelight, the tears
of pain that ran down her muzzle, the tracks they made staining the fur around
her eyes and down her muzzle red. As red as her now useless leg that hung in
the teeth of the trap, spilling a crimson tide that washed the grass with her