Freedom Pack: A Ripple in Power

Chapter Three

Mason sat vigil that night; not even caring to rest his eyes for even a little while. The sun rose out from the endless land, turning the night sky into a peachy colour. He didn't even bother to acknowledge its beauty.

Sitting up for the first time since moonrise, he shook the dirt off his fur and headed out to find food. When he left, he looked back and accepted the fact he'd have to get through this on his own; there was no point in pleading now. She wasn't coming back.

As he plodded along, he sniffed the fresh morning air for the scent of prey. The scent of a small creature hit his nostrils – it wasn't a bird this time around. He turned his head and spotted a small mouse nibbling on a seed. His belly rumbled in anticipation as he got into his best hunting crouch, his paws light on the earth and his chest-fur barely skimming the ground.

He carefully took each step, making sure he didn't make a sound and, when he was close enough, he leaped and trapped the mouse under his paws. He clawed at the ground, so it didn't escape. What was he supposed to do now?

Then, he had a thought. Obviously! He bit into the flesh of the mouse and felt its struggling cease as it went limp.

Prising the mouse in his jaws, he le his head hang high – his first catch!

Settling down by a nettle bush, he bit into the body of the mouse. It was unlike anything he'd ever tasted before – the mush he was fed in the lab had nothing on his kill.

After he'd had his kill, he was feeling happy for the first time in a while. Following his scent, now slightly stale, he walked to the river for a drink.

A strong tang held in the air; he didn't know what it was – it wasn't prey, but it was alive, and big too – but it also wasn't man. He slowed down a little bit and his ears pricked up to hear any rustling of bushes or crunches of leaves under paws.

Then he heard a snarl. Whipping his head around, he was knocked off his feet and hit his head hard on the solid dirt below. He was met face-to-face with an animal he'd never seen before. His eyes filled with confusion.

The creature growled.

"What? You think vixens aren't good at fighting do you? What do you think you're doing on my turf?!"

A vixen?

"Um... a vixen?" Mason questioned.

The vixen's face softened a little bit, as did her grip.

"You've never seen a fox before?" she asked, confused.

"A-" he started, but changed his words, "No?"

"Huh, looks like you're new here too," she barked, loosening her grip fully and sitting down, "Where do you come from, dog?"

"I have a name you know," he sassed, sitting down too and a bit sour at the surprise attack.

The vixen laughed.

"And what might that be?" she teased.

"M-" he stopped. Mason was such an ordinary name – he needed to sound ferocious; nobody would mess with him then.

"Skarra," barked the newly named Skarra.

"Skarra?" she asked, "I've never heard that before. I'm Ella."

"That doesn't sound like a forest name..." Skarra stopped and pondered. Would she have a name like 'fern' or 'rose'? she lived in the forest after all.

"I was an ownedcreature," she explained, "My man didn't feed me enough, and I was living outside in a cage. Then, one day, I just woke up alone in the forest with only a piece of hardmeat by my side, and it looked like some other animal had picked at it."

She looked almost ashamed.

"Oh." He said, "I lived in the science lab."

"Really? You're lucky you got outta there!"

Skarra remembered his mother and him escaping together.

"Yeah..." he replied, "Really lucky."

He stopped.

"I'd better be off." He woofed.

"Oh, OK..." the vixen barked back, "It's just... ugh, nevermind."

"Do you have a place to stay?" Skarra asked whilst still walking.

"Do you have any spare places?" Ella smiled awkwardly.

Skarra turned his head and nodded.

"Come on then." He barked.