"Three…"
The fox's voice rumbled like stone dragged across stone.
I swallowed hard, throat dry, and forced my mouth to work.
"I—I saw your child fighting a badger in the forest."
The words stumbled out, weak, pathetic. I hated how my voice shook, how I sounded like prey. But what else could I do? I couldn't escape.
The fox's molten eyes narrowed at this urging me to continue. So I did:
"The badger nearly killed her," I added quickly, words spilling out faster than I could think. "But I… I stepped in. I saved it."
Not exactly true. But not totally false.
I did save her.
A beat of silence followed. It stretched and stretched, suffocating the air out of my lungs. Then, in that same guttural rasp, the fox spoke.
"Is that so…"
The way it said it made my skin crawl.
Like it had already decided whether I lived or died, and my words were nothing but noise.
I nodded weakly, trying not to flinch.
My gaze flicked across its body, taking in details I hadn't noticed in my shock.
