❝ there was a difference between living and existing, and for the first time, phoebe felt like she was living. and wasn't that a marvellous thing?❞
[book 1]
in which a boy calls a girl irrelevant, but somehow manages to fall in love with her anyway...
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From high above, surrounded by pine needles and snow, the wolves weren't nearly so scary, Phoebe thought. They were still menacing, and their teeth and claws still sent chills through her, but they weren't nearly so terrifying as when you were on the ground. Still, Phoebe was trying her best to breathe quietly, because she'd always heard that dog ears were far more powerful than human ones.
Peter, Susan, Lucy, and the beavers were all nearby, hiding in trees similar to her own. Down below them, the wolves had burst out of the tunnel, and they had surrounded the fox. Phoebe hoped he would be alright - after all, he'd helped them escape, and that was a selfless enough act, he didn't deserve to die for them.
"Good day, gentlemen! Looking for something?" The fox sounded cheery, upbeat, but there was a slight quiver in his tone that told Phoebe his bravado was just an act. The wolf in charge - Maugrim, wasn't that his name? - crept closer to the fox, growling low and deep in his throat.
"Don't patronise me, cur. We're well aware of where your allegiance lies. We're looking for the humans. Tell us where they are." Maugrim's voice became lower, commanding, terrifying. It resonated somewhere deep within Phoebe, freezing her. His voice was like pure, cold ice, like the winters that his false Queen loved so much.
"Humans? In Narnia?" Perhaps if he hadn't been born a fox, he might have made a wonderful actor. "That really is some valuable information, good sirs." He was remarkably calm in the face of the wolves, not breaking his façade for a moment.
Suddenly, with a loud crack, a wolf had the fox in its mouth. Phoebe stifled her own cry, and in her peripheral vision, she saw Susan lay a hand over Lucy's mouth. Peter was silent, stoic, but she could see his fear in his eyes.
"Your reward, dear fox, is your life. It isn't worth much, but I digress. Feeling a little more loose-tongued? Where are the fugitives?" If Phoebe wasn't mistaken, the wolf was practically grinning, his lips drawn back over sharp, white teeth. The fox gulped, a strangely human action.
"North. They went north, around half an hour ago." Phoebe breathed out a sigh of relief. The fox hadn't betrayed them. Maugrim nodded to his comrades, apparently satisfied with the lie. Within seconds, the fox was bleeding on the snow and the wolves had run off.
The beavers scurried down the tree, rushing to the fox's side. His blood was slowly painting the snow red, and the sight sickened Phoebe. He was dying for them, for what he believed was right, but what if they couldn't do anything? Phoebe looked over to see Susan helping Lucy climb down the tree they'd been in. Now, Phoebe just had to figure out how on Earth she was going to get down.
The tree looked much higher from the top of it than the bottom. Phoebe's heart was beating a little bit faster now. Peter was already climbing out of the tree that they were in. If she could make it up, surely she could make it back down, right?
