The White Fox

The white fox will destroy the werewolf world. It's a legend that every wolf knows. We never hunt white foxes for fear it will be the one in the legend. If a white fox burrows in your territory, it's a sign of bad luck. We all run from white foxes. We were told as pups that if we were bad, the white fox would come to our pack, and the next day, our pack would have never existed. There are laws from the elders that if we find the white fox (not that anyone wants to or will), we were to hand it over immediately. We were not to engage in conversation with it or interact with it at all. So we never expected her to come so peacefully...

| "What do you want from me?" I exclaimed. He stopped walking and laughed.
"You stupid fuck. I want you to stop fighting me. I want you to shut up and do what I say." He grabbed me again. My muscles tensed and I tasted blood in my mouth. My pupils were dilated.
He dragged me to the kitchen again and grabbed my cup that was still on the table. "Drink. It."
I grabbed the glass and took a sip. His nose crinkled. "No. Down it. Drink the whole thing."
I down it and coughed again. It was so bitter and I recoiled. My head spun and I felt like I was going to throw up. I held my head and closed my eyes. The world spun so much faster when I closed my eyes.
He held me under my chin. "Listen. You pissed off a powerful man while you were gone. He wants you and I'm not giving you without a price. So next week, after the paperwork is filled out, you're gonna be good. Or I'll lower that price. Do you understand?"
I nodded my head as best I could but it made me even dizzier. He let go of my chin and I felt myself falling. "Now you haven't drank that much. Don't tell me you're out for the count. I haven't even gotten started with you."
he grabbed a bottle of beer and handed it to me. I almost dropped it but managed to grab the bottle by the neck right before it left my hand.
"Drink."

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