The fox slunk under a bush, watching, waiting, listening to the little chipmunk forging for food under the trees of the forest. When the rodent started stuffing its cheeks the fox dashed forward pouncing upon his prey before he knew what hit him.

As the fox ate its ears twitched, listening to the sounds of the forest around him. He could just hear the sound of people in the distance. Curiocity over self preservation took hold and he bounded forward to the noise.

He made his way to the edge of the forest to a clearing where there was the long abandoned farm he occasionally used as shelter. He could smell people in the forest to his left and could see a camp of people to the right, sheltering around the barely stable farm house. Closer to him and the forest there was a barn; its red paint left all, but patches and the structure taken by plants and termites. Many of the boards crumbled under its own weight and under the burden of time.

He was content to let the humans do whatever it is humans do. The strange creatures. He moved to head back to the forest when something caught his eye at the top of the barn. A wolf who’s pelt shown silver in the sunlight was perched, sitting on the roof with its back to the fox, watching the humans ready their ambush from the forest.

Wolves weren't creatures foxes contended with. Larger canines ate foxes and that was the fact of it. You would think that would be an excellent reason for the fox to leave... But this wolf seemed so different. Its pelt sparkled like stars in the daylight and he thought he could almost see the sky right through it. Something inside of the fox was compelled towards it. He let his curiosity guide him and he quietly made his way up the barn, being careful where the wood creaked while keeping an eye on the wolf. He watched for any signs of hostile movement from the wolf but there were none. In fact the creaking of the wood and the scraping of claws as the fox clambered up should have been noisy enough to grab the wolves attention but it didn’t even look his way. The silver pelted beast kept his eyes fixated on the humans below.

When he finally got on the roof behind the wolf it finally spoke which surprised the fox. Not that it was shocking that the other creature made any noise but because it was in a human tongue and yet the fox could understand it. “This is no place for you beast of the forest. A war is breaking between the human’s you should turn back.”

The fox considered the words of the wolf a moment when a scream of charge rang through the land and the humans at the edge of the forest broke through the thicket to the surprise of the other army to the right. They sounded out in alarm and rushed to defend themselves against the attack.

In his own surprise the fox stepped backwards. Stopping and looking down at his paws when the wood he was standing on protested under his weight. He glanced back up to the wolf to find it had vanished. A stray arrow hitting the side of the barn jolted the fox in surprise and the roof gave way under his weight.

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He cried out as he fell through the barn and landed on his side. He felt his own bones crunch under him. Blood dripped from his mouth, pain shot down his body as he tried to move. He whimpered in pain from the legs he landed on when he tried to get up. The sounds of battle could be heard just outside and people fighting could be seen through holes in the walls. The little fox’s head darted side to side as it tried to drag itself to cover under what the debris of the building could provide, hoping for some safety. Something hard hitting the side of the barn jostled the building enough to cause more loose wood to fall as the fox cowered.

“You poor little creature” 

A voice pierced through the noise. From his hiding place the fox tried to see where it came from, hoping to find something that could pull him from the madness.

“You know you will die as you are. Injured, surrounded, and trapped. You can’t run. You can’t fight.”

The voice spoke with pity in its tone.

“I am trapped here too.”

It faded just slightly to give the fox direction and his eyes fell on a woodcutting axe laying on the floor, the sunlight streaming through the holes in the ceiling making the red metal shine softly.

“In order to free me from my prison I need a soul. In exchange for yours I can make sure nothing will ever hurt you. I will protect you. I will defend you. I will heal you.”

The voice called out, fading softly towards the axe when it spoke, trying to entice the injured fox forward. The fox slowly limped from its hiding place, entranced by the voice.

I’m scared. I don’t want to die.

The fox thought as it approached slowly.

“Touch my handle and that will seal the contract. Your soul for my power and protection whenever you are afraid.”

He put his nose to the handle. The last thing the fox heard was malevolent laughter as the world around him grew dark.