𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇
⸻ Cordelia Winterbourne's ordinary life with her mother was shattered by the onset of war, prompting Cordelia's mother to make a gut-wrenching decision by sending her daughter away for a while to keep her safe.
However, fate had a di...
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We found ourselves atop the tree as the fox had directed, taking charge of the situation below.
"Greetings, gents," the fox greeted, maintaining composure despite the intimidating presence of the wolves. "Lost something are we?"
"Don't patronize me!" growled the one who appeared to be the leader. "I know where your allegiance lies."
"We're looking for some humans," he continued.
"Humans? Here in Narnia?" the fox nervously chuckled. "That's quite a valuable piece of information, wouldn't you agree?"
Suddenly, one of the wolves sunk its teeth into the fox's skin. Peter covered his sister's mouth to prevent her from giving us away, while I instinctively covered my mouth, horrified by the scene unfolding before us.
"Your reward is your life. It's not much, but it'll do," the wolf stated. "Where are the fugitives?" he inquired once more, but this time the fox remained silent, and I assumed he was about to betray us. However, I was mistaken when he finally spoke up.
"North. They headed north."
The Wolves didn't hesitate. Believing the fox's words, they released him and swiftly moved in the direction of the North.
The moment the wolves disappeared from our sight, the tension in the air slowly dissolved. Gasping for air, the fox staggered, clearly in pain from the bite.
"We have to help him," Susan whispered, her eyes wide with concern.
Peter carefully descended from the tree, assisting us down before slowly approaching the fox.
He and I exchanged a worried glance as we observed the female beaver approach him and begin to bandage his wound.
"Will he be alright?" I asked softly, concern evident in my voice.
The female beaver looked up with a reassuring nod. "He'll recover, though it'll take some time. That was a close call, thanks to your quick thinking."
The fox managed a weak smile, expressing gratitude.
Peter decided to call it a night, wandering around to collect some small pieces of wood, and I trailed behind, offering to assist.
While gathering the wood into our arms, Peter seemed to notice my troubled expression.
"You okay?" he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Yeah," I whispered, but he pressed further, "Is it about Ed?"
I hesitated for a moment before nodding in response. He sighed in understanding.
