The Dragon and The Fox

Nourishment of Body and Soul

With a gentle grasp, the boy welcomed the fox into his room, his eyes lit up with excitement as he gazed at his new companion. The initial burst of elation gradually gave way to a softened expression. "You must be hungry. Very hungry," he murmured, his voice barely audible, almost as if sharing a secret with the fox. His grin faded momentarily, replaced by empathy.

Apologizing for his oversight, he promised, "Sorry... I didn't notice. I'll be right back, little foxy! Stay here and wait for me." His tone perked up, imbued with a sense of anticipation as he hurriedly left the room, the anticipation of making the fox's acquaintance still bubbling within him.

As the fox lingered in the room, its curious gaze wandered across the items and furniture that adorned the space. From the expanse of the big bed to the inviting wardrobes, its eyes danced over a nightstand table and a treasure trove of little boxes, toys, and figures. A particular gleam caught its attention, like a glint of a secret waiting to be discovered. The fox's eyes ignited with intrigue as they locked onto a petite figurine reminiscent of the majestic dragon statue.

Summoning its feline grace, the fox scaled the bed, its nimble paws propelling it onto the nightstand table. It embarked on a playful traverse, hopping from the table to the shelves mounted on the walls. Each leap was a burst of energy and curiosity, an exploration of this captivating new world. Finally, it landed in front of the dragon figure, its eyes brimming with anticipation and a yearning for connection.

"What are you doing there, little foxy?" The boy's voice carried a touch of surprise and amusement as he approached from behind. He gently placed the bowl of meat down and observed the fox's interaction with the dragon figurine. "He's a dragon," he explained, his finger pointing to the intricate horns adorning the figurine's head. „And these are horns." A small smile tugged at his lips as he glanced between the fox and the statue. The fox's rapt attention only deepened his amusement.

A soft sigh escaped the boy, his expression melancholic. "I would love to meet him as well," he confessed, his smile tinged with longing. His voice took on a wistful tone as he continued, "But everyone says he sacrificed himself for our well-being..." He briefly averted his gaze, his words heavy with the weight of history and legend.

Shaking off the melancholy, he focused on the present. "Anyway... I've got the food for you, Childe," he said warmly, scooping up the fox with gentle care and setting it beside the bowl of meat. He introduced the offering with cautious hope, "My dad thinks you would like this. I really hope you will."

The fox's pink tongue darted out, giving the meat an experimental lick. A shudder rippled through its fur, an embodiment of its pent-up hunger. Without further ado, it began devouring the meal voraciously, its instincts overriding all else. The boy watched, his heart swelling with fondness and delight, a silent bond forming between them amidst the shared moment of nourishment and companionship.

With a contented sigh, the fox savored every bite of its meal, its fluffy tail swaying with delight. Casting a sidelong glance at the boy, its large eyes sparkled with mischief. The boy's face lit up with a heartwarming smile that held a universe of affection. "You're truly something special," he murmured, his words a gentle caress in the air. In response, the fox playfully hopped onto the bed, its paws padding softly against the surface. It settled down beside the boy, nestling in as close as it could, its body radiating a soothing warmth that enveloped them both. A soft purr, like a whispered secret, escaped from the fox, filling the room with a melody of comfort.

Lost in thought, the boy's fingers traced patterns on the fox's fur, his touch as light as a whisper. "I can't help but wonder about your origins," he mused aloud, his voice carrying a touch of wonder like a melody in the wind. The fox's ears twitched as if it understood, its eyes glinting with enigmatic knowledge that only dreams could contain. As the boy continued to stroke its back, a silent connection formed between them, a bridge woven with the threads of curiosity and companionship.

Time danced on, and a soft yawn escaped the boy's lips, a signal that sleep was beckoning. He murmured, his words like a gentle lullaby, "Goodnight, my clever foxy friend." Snuggling into the warmth of his woolen haven, he adjusted the fox to rest beside him. His fingers never stopped their rhythmic dance along the fox's fur, a gesture that whispered secrets of unwavering affection.

Slowly, like a delicate waltz, the fox's eyes drooped and closed, its breathing soft. The room was painted with the symphony of their breathing, a peaceful duet that resonated with the magic of the moment. In the blink of an eye, the mundane world melted away, replaced by the ethereal landscapes of dreams.