Vulpes Vulpes

Chapter Ten

At that moment Rin and I frolicked in the woods together as if we were pups, heedless of anyone and anything that could be watching. We were young and free, tied only to each other through love and passion. The world around us faded and was nothing, and we neither noticed nor cared, for in each other's companionship we found all that we needed to persist.

We created music in our love, not through our voices - which were melodies in their own regards - but by our movements. We danced together in harmony as none ever had danced before, and none ever shall. We moved to the beat of our hearts, no longer guided by thoughts but by feeling and instinct, in sync to the last drop of blood. Our bodies became unified into one mind, one heart, and one soul, in perfect joy evermore.

Days passed the two of us by in warm blissfulness, and our senses became hypersensitive to all that was around us; every living thing, from the largest tree to the smallest animal, emanated its presence unto us. We hunted together and ate together all that we had killed or foraged, and we slept together each night under the ground or above, heedless of dangers, however close they could be.

Experiencing everything in the woods together was no less intimate than perceiving nothing else but each other, since it was of little importance what we did, as long as we did it together. Our love blinded us to the world, yet at the same time it made us see more clearly everything around us. It was unexplainable, this thing that we had together; it was companionship, but even more close; it was love, but deeper. How can I ever hope to describe such a beautiful bond?

Several weeks after Rin and I were mated, and we were continuing our romp through the woodland, Rin became restless. I was concerned about what she was thinking of, or what she was looking for, but I could not figure it out and I did not want to ask, for fear of knowing what the answer would be. Rin was my beloved, and I would never be able to live with myself knowing that I had in any way caused her grief. She had forgiven me already for what I tried to do to myself in the river, but I made a vow that I would never do anything of the sort again. Rin had been satisfied with my response, so it was doubtful that she would still brood over that subject matter.

When I finally did have the strength to ask Rin what was the matter one day, she gave a vague response: "I have to keep looking."

"Looking for what?" I asked hesitantly.

"I don't know," Rin replied. "But I feel like there's something I need to find." I eventually concluded that this was a case of instinctive uneasiness, that perhaps her mind was adjusting to her knew accommodations and was still used to a solitary lifestyle. It's difficult for any creature to be alone (most especially hyoomans), but foxes are lonesome animals, and it can be difficult for one to re-integrate into living conditions that involve more than just themselves. This was my theory, at least, that Rin was still becoming used to her new life; the actual cause of her stress, however, turned out to be quite different.

One night, as Rin and I gazed up at the wonderful expanse of shimmering flames while we lay together, spooning atop a lone ridge overlooking a vast swathe of trees and hills, I ended our blissful silence with a question that gave me more than a little discomfort, despite its simplicity. "What's been bothering you?" I questioned dubiously. "You've been acting strange the last few days." Even though I hadn't made the acquaintance of Rin until a little more than a week ago, in that short amount of time I truly knew her, so much so that I could almost predict her thoughts. But what she hid from me as we laid on that tall hill together I could not guess.

Rin's voluptuous tail flittered to and fro in a titillating sweep which occasionally brushed my snout, but it immediately stopped when she heard my question. Rin was as frozen as a possum in front of me, and she no longer looked up at the heavens but instead towards the ground. A lone starbug crawled along the grass-laden ground in front of us, slowly working its way through the thick grass-leaves in spite of its ability to fly. The bug flashed its tail on and off, consistently in rhythm with the slow droning of the hoppers' song. It was as if Rin was moments away from lashing out at me, or crying, and although I had seen neither in verity, I was certain that the latter would be exceedingly more painful.

But Rin simply faced me, with her eyes twinkling back the moon's radiance that shone upon her, and she emanated a contented, tranquil murr. "The days we spent capering through the forest were fruitful indeed, for together we conveyed our love unto one another." She then smiled wider than the sun itself, and it seemed as though the night was gone, and we were surrounded by thousands of butterflies gliding in the serene blue sky; and the Wind was merciful to us, and the sun warmed our fur as we gazed at one another forever and ever. This vixen before me enraptured me with her mere loveliness, but it was her heart that was truly alluring: Rin beheld such a magnificently pure nature that I could not help but gawking foolishly into the eyes of my beloved.

"But we bore more fruit than our love alone," Rin concluded with joy. "I'm pregnant," she said.

The starbug buzzed away into the moonlit night, giving off one or two more jolts of light before fading off into the forest forever. The sound of hoppers was louder than ever, but it played a different tune.

It took a few moments for me to process what Rin said completely. From that moment on my whole life was changed altogether by those two small words. I would actually be a father to a leash of tiny, unborn cubs who were waiting for the right time to spring forth into the world. Rin would be a mother, and her and I would be parents, nurturing our young as our parents had done for us. Just the thought of fatherhood made me think, and wonder - even cry a bit - about all that had happened between Rin and I, all the love and compassion that eventually led to the germination of a healthy group of foxes. Our foxes.

We spent the rest of the night talking about what it would be like to actually raise the cubs, but we knew that most of it would come from instincts. The first order of business would be to dig an earth big enough to accompany the litter, we said, but we would need a safe spot away from predators and other dangers (now we started to worry about safety, when we actually had a family to support). In our discussion of the foxhole, as it were, we contemplated where it would actually be, since we would be living there for many more years to come, so we would need an ideal location. Eventually we decided that right there on the hill would be a great choice, as it offered plenty of space and a large viewpoint of almost the entire forest. We even had plenty of options as to exactly where we were going to dig the den; we could even reside in the lone apple tree that made its abode upon the hilltop.

Planning our future together was thoroughly exciting, especially knowing that Rin and I would share our lives with our yet-to-be-born offspring, who would one day grow up and move out into their own lives, where they would find their own mates and foster their own cubs. To know that we would house on that very hill a family that we could call our own - that was an extraordinary notion.