At the base of the tree was a clear space in the tall grasses. Large roots dug deep into the ground, spreading far from the massive trunk. In a hollow among those roots was a bundle of rust colored fur, curled in upon itself. Bright slashes of blood marked the furred hide. The ground in the clear spot was destroyed, deep grooves and slashes overlapped one another. There, draped over a tangle of roots, was one of the skitterings, two of its legs missing and a hole ripped in its side.

Lucky dropped down onto his belly as he entered the clear space, crawling forward slowly. “Hello?” He called out gently, “Are you alright? I can help, if you’ll let me.” He continued crawling.

The body beneath the rusty fur tensed at the sound of his voice. Black tipped ears lifted and then flicked back toward Lucky. “Away, go. Hurt.” The voice was trembling and weak. “Please. Away.”

Lucky tried to match the sound of the language, feeling for the right words. It was close to Canine, but not quite the same. “Help. I help.”

“No help. Broken.” The little one said. “No help.”

The big dog was close enough to get a good sniff of the little bundle of fur. “I help.” He said firmly. “I help. Heal.”

“Heal?” The head lifted, white cheeks and a sharp black nose. The fox turned carefully, even that motion opening wounds.

“Howl heals.” Lucky answered, closing the last few inches. The fox’s ears went back and it’s muzzle wrinkled as its lips peeled back.

“Prove or go.” The little fox’s voice was a growl.

Lucky reached for the [Healing Howl] and felt the skill latch on. The howl was low, almost quiet as it rolled through the clearing and off into the Prairie. The fox’s lips slid closed over its teeth and its deep brown eyes drifted half closed. “Heal, promise.” Lucky said. “Safe now. We help.”

“We?” One eye was open only a slit, but Lucky could feel the wary pressure of that gaze.

“More dogs. Family. Pack. Humans. You come, we help.”

“The black tipped ears dropped flat against the fox’s skull. “Humans? Humans bad.”

“Not all.”

“All bad. All bad for foxes.”

“No. Promise. No bad for foxes. Promise like heal.”

“Not alone.” The fox protested.

**DA-DING!! Your [Polyglot] trait has helped the language Canine, Expert evolve to Canidae, Expert!!**

Canidae, Expert

You are an expert at speaking the languages of the family of dogs. Your ability with both Canidae, Canis and Canidae, Vulpes allows you to understand all other variants of Canidae at a Basic level at minimum.

“You are not alone?”

“I have a kit.” The fox’s tone fell, ears drooping.

“We can help you. I promise it to you.” The fox’s cuts were slowly healing and her body was beginning to relax as Lucky watched. “See, I can heal.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“That is true and you kept your word.” She slowly unfurled herself, white-tipped tail swinging free. She was short, around the same size as Norman, but more slender. It made her black legs seem so much longer. She came to the front of the hollow and the den beneath and sat up straight, curling her tail around her black paws. She looked almost like a cat in that posture.

“Come with us. You’ll be safer with us if the skitterings come back.”

The vixen glanced over her shoulder, deeper into the hollow under the tree and then looked back at Lucky. “We will come.” She said at last. The white tip of her tail was quick to vanish down into the deeper part of the den and she returned carrying a small, bright bundle of fur the color of fall leaves. Barely more than a mouthful for the larger dogs.

“Come and meet the family.” Lucky said as he turned toward the tall grasses and called the other dogs over. He started to make introductions only to realize he didn’t know her name. She set her kit down and wrapped her tail around it as she sat straight. “I am Ro. I have not named the kit yet. He is too young.”

“We were walking the territory and marking it.” Lucky explained. “Would you like to join us? Or I can run you to our home so you can find a good denning place.”

“Is it a long way to carry a kit?” She asked.

“It is long.” Lucky answered, his tail wagging gently. “We can help carry though. Many paws dig a faster hole.”

She nodded and bent to pick up the precious bundle again. Lucky could see that his eyes were barely open. He was so little. Something stirred in Lucky as he looked at the tiny bundle, too young for his mother to give him a name. It was heartbreaking, for him, to think that so many didn’t survive that they didn’t name them until they had. The russet-furred vixen followed as Lucky led the way from the massive oak, now fully marked, along a series of trespassing signs that ran northwest. It was a huge rock that marked the final turn along the northern border. The rock was easily as big as a six dog pile and it ramped up along one side to the highest point. A dog could climb up there and get a wide view of the prairie. They stopped for a few moments in the shadow of the stone, the smaller dogs already more than ready for a long rest, but they had one and a half more sides to explore.

“This is a big farm.” Calypso said, her tongue lolling. “Is there another creek or anything? I’m thirsty.”

“There’s a little creek close to the highway that passes under and joins the big creek across the road and Big Puddle is about halfway down the western boundary. Shouldn’t take too long.” Lucky answered, rising and stretching his long legs.”Not too much further and we can splash in the Big Puddle. You’ll like it, the water is always cold.”

He rallied everyone back up into a steady lope as they headed south along the gently westward drifting line of signs. It wasn’t too long before their loping jog had them reaching Big Puddle. It was a pond, exceptionally deep and in the rough shape of a fat little puppy viewed from the top..

“The border runs along the western edge of Big Puddle and then goes straight south until the highway. It’ll cross over the little creek just before the highway.” Lucky said as he dipped his front feet into the water. The icy cold felt great against the pads of his hard-run feet and he groaned at the sensation.

The little fox hung back away from the dogs as they drank, her kit wrapped in the bend of her tail against her blackened paws. She was panting heavily and clearly thirsty, but uncertain about leaving her kit without her protection. Lucky paused after only a few laps at the water and trotted back over to her. “I can watch over him while you drink.” He offered. “He’ll be safe with me. I promise.”

The fox’s deep brown eyes gave him a penetrating look, as though they were reading the very nature of his soul. She was silent for a long moment, eyes roving his face, before she finally stood. “Lay down, please.” When he complied she deposited the warm, tender ball of fluff between Lucky’s front paws, right next to his chest. She stepped back and watched for a long moment, as though afraid she had made a mistake. Her ears twitched uncertainly and she seemed about ready to pick the kit back up. Instead she straightened herself, head rising and darted off to the Big Puddle to drink.

Lucky lowered his head to sniff at the little kit. He smelled warm and a bit musky, not like a dog at all. It was a certain wildness to his smell that Lucky couldn’t quite define. The kit moved slowly, wriggling and trying to get his feet beneath him. He wasn’t quite there yet, his wobbly legs not quite cooperating. After only a few unsteady tries, the kit collapsed into a tired ball curled against Lucky’s patched chest. Lucky lowered his head, surrounding the little kit in long, warm fur and the little one began to snore almost immediately.

The big dog's eyes were watchful as he checked his surroundings. When he looked back toward the Puddle, he found the vixen watching him, her brown eyes serious. There was something like relief in her posture and she only watched for a while before dashing back to his side. “Thank you.” She said as she came to a stop. “I’ve got him now.”

Lucky rose slowly, careful not to disturb the kit. “I’m going to get a drink and then we’ll be moving on. Not too much longer and we’ll be headed back home.”

The fox curled around her kit without saying anything and before long they were all headed out again. They jogged the rest of the way south to the highway, crossing the little creek and here again Lucky gave them a warning about the crotchety old man across the street. Really they had plenty of space on this side of the highway and wouldn’t need to go anywhere near his.