The Fox of Wales

Chapters 3-4

Chapter 3: The Magic is Fading

After Abigail entered the Fox's home, her mother had become stressed.

"Why hasn't my daughter come home yet? She was always a good girl and she had always been home on time!"

Abigail's father wasn't so distressed.

"She is only a girl darling. She has probably met up with her friends in the wood. I will fetch us dinner. If I see her running around, I shall tell her that her mother is worried sick."

But even still, her mother paced back and forth while wiping her hands on her apron. She was washing up dishes, preparing for the bird her husband would bring home.

"It's that forest, dear. So many hunters have gone in and have never returned."

"She walks past it every day on her way home." Father was losing his patience. "You cannot keep her on a leash her whole life. She won't have any magic left in her when she becomes like us." He began to prepare his rifle for the trek into the wild.

"Don't forget your canteen darling! I have filled it up as you like." Mother handed Father a small, metal canteen. You could hear the water swishing around inside. Father looked at his wife with pride. He took her in his arms.

"Listen to me." Father could see tears in Mother's eyes as she adverted her gaze. Still, Father was persistent.

"If anything were to happen to you, you can be assured there would be no mountain, flood, river, or country I wouldn't cross to help you. You understand?"

Mother nodded. "You are the man of the house." She smiled.

"What would a man be without his wife? His missing piece?"

"You wouldn't be able to keep your suit clean or walk straight of I didn't tell u how."

Father smiled.

"My parents were weird, darling."

"Same excuse."

They were both laughing now. But Father said seriously.

"I had grown up in the wild. It taught me things that keep me focused. Waiting for a deer, the only thing that could feed myself and my two brothers, taught me patience. My father taught me discipline, when he was not hooked on the bottle. The forest was my only hope when I was young. It was an escape."

"But yet you are a shopkeeper?"

"I was strong. Good with business. You are the strongest woman I have ever known and our daughter is your spitting image." Father picked up his rifle and walked to the door.

"Trust me, our daughter will survive." He was gone.

Abigail was still standing in the Fox's bedroom at this time. The Fox had tried to comfort his mate, but tear ran down her fur.

"Darling, think of it like this. As the hunters come farther South, they will enter areas with human families. They will be forced to turn around."

"But how will we move our family? We don't have a gopher or a mouse to pull our carriage. We will be sitting Foxes!"

"My dear, we must not lose hope yet. Hunting season, luckily, is drawing to a close soon. Luck is still on our side."

"What about poachers?" The Fox's face remained grave. It seemed as if he were recalling a long forgotten foe.