The Fox

The small, white paws of the vixen stepped gracefully and knowingly through the undergrowth. Night was falling and she was silently slipping back to her den to rest for the evening. In the distance, a flock of birds fluttered into the trees to settle in their treetop nests above. As the ginger vixen came closer to her destination, her bushy tail twitched. Suddenly, lightning and thunder crashed. Water began to pour from the sky, lightly at first, then heavier. The fox's pace quickened, for if she did not hurry, it would become dark before she arrived home. A small rodent scurried under the undergrowth back to it's burrow, and she hurried home once more. As she slept, she dreamed of a new tomorrow. The world would be dampened by the rain, and fresh by the morning dew.