he frowned and got as close as he could without being noticed.

He can see a blackish-blue hoof, covered in mottled brown and blue fur. It's standing lightly but firmly on a small fox boy, who's missing one of his eyes. From the scratch marks around the hole, the way he lost it wasn't pleasant.

he immediatly was enraged.

The person continues speaking.


"You have had many, many chances to fix your mistakes. And yet the one time you have a chance to redeem yourself," the hoof presses down further on the boy, "you don't tell me they're here."

He glared, ready to attack.

"I-I swear I was going to tell you!" The fox-woman's voice is panicked. "I-I just wasn't sure if they were staying or not, a-and I didn't want you to come all the way here when they'd flown away already!"

Now he wanted to kill that person.

"You've sworn every time. It's never true." The hooved person huffs. "I thought one eye would be enough of a warning. I suppose I was wrong."

With that, he jumped silently, sinking his fangs into the hooves persons neck and biting hard.

The hooved person grabs him.


Her hands are cold. Colder than ice. Colder than the whole of winter. Colder than anything he's ever felt before.

But the coldest thing about her is her gaze. He's never seen someone have so much hatred in such a small frown. Her catlike orange eyes seem to be staring right into his soul, and it seems she's not too big a fan of its contents.