The Stinky Life I've Accepted

Chapter 21: Why Won't You Accept Help?

All The Spring Months Have Passed

Ryker

With my tail between my legs, I approach the man carefully. He holds out a piece of what I learned was a "hot dog", his kind eyes watching me carefully. 

The crowd formed around us speaks in hushed tones to each other, unable to comprehend that a "wild fox" is approaching a "human". 

The only reason I have gotten to be this desperate is because winter is here. All the prey is scarce, and I can't travel much in the cold. 

My legs aches ten times worse in the cold than it does in any other season, and the hunger is only ever increasing. Even during the spring, during the few opportunities when I wasn't dealing with my heat, I could barely hunt with these legs. I fed on scraps, leftover corpses left by other predators, and now, food given to me by these humans. 

I know I need to leave this town soon. Word is probably spreading about a "friendly" fox, and I know for a fact that at least two out of three of the groups knows about my fox form, if not all three of them. 

Gently, I grab the meat from the human man's hands, and gulp it down, keeping my senses on high alert. 

"See? Friendly as a dog." The man says to someone behind him, and my eyes flits to another, much larger man behind him, his eyes burning into me. 

I take a whiff, and freeze when I smell out the scent of shifters. 

Shit. 

I stare at the man, and my stomach turns when he smiles softly, crouching besides the human. 

"Interesting." He mutters, holding out a piece of the hot dog himself. 

The smell of shifters surrounds him, and it takes everything in my power to not bolt. Maybe he doesn't know. I've been a fox for the past week. Maybe he won't smell the skunk or human on me. 

I take the meat offered, swallowing it whole, before backing up. 

"How long has this little guy been around?" The shifter asks, and I ignore him, trying to act as much of an animal as possible. 

"Eh, he showed up a month into the winter season. Thin, limping, and ragged. Thought I'd throw him some food, and he took it happily." The human explains, smiling as he watches me back up, suddenly feeling too crowded. 

"Hmm. Very interesting indeed." The shifter says, dropping the hand holding the meat. "I can see why he's so desperate though. It is winter after all, and with the heavy limps in both those legs..." The man breaks off, whistling softly. 

I bare my teeth at the shifter, and his eyes narrows. 

Slowly, I turn around, keeping the group, and the shifter especially, in my line of vision, before bolting for the protection of the forest.  

I need to start traveling. I can't stay here anymore. 

Although I do not recognize the scent of the shifter at all, who knows what contacts he has. I learned early on that packs keep in contact with each other. If that pack is looking for me...I shudder at the possibilities. 

I can't trust anyone in this world that I long ago gave up on. 

Mikey

I sigh as the fox bolts for the woods sequestered around the small, dainty town. "He'll be back tomorrow. Usually always comes around this time." The human who fed the fox mutters, standing to full height. 

"No, I don't think he will. He didn't look like he was willing to stay around any time soon. Animals are like that." I reply back, and the human shrugs, walking away after a short goodbye. The crowd has long since dispersed. 

Rogues don't stay in one place for too long. Especially if that's who I think it is. 

I pull out my phone, unlock the screen and open the phone app. I dial in some numbers, and hold the phone to my ear. 

It rings once before the other end picks up. "Yeah?" A gruff voice asks, and I chuckle. "Good to talk to you too, cousin." I reply, and the voice sighs. 

"Sorry. I'm just..." The voice breaks off and I grimace. "Yeah I know. I was joking. But about that... I found him. Smells just like the harness you sent over to me." There's a few creaks and groans on the other side before the voice picks up. 

"Where?" Maxon asks, and I smile, explaining the details. 

He listens, the sound of his pen scratching notes onto some paper, before I finish with some words. 

"But you better hurry. He's probably already on the run. He definitely smelled me out." Maxon sighs, the pen stopping. 

"Understood. Thanks, cousin. I really appreciate it. I will see you in 48 hours." The line ends, and I put the phone away in a pocket, sighing. 

I stare back at the part of the woods my cousin's mate disappeared into, frowning. 

Why won't you accept any help?