Lorelei still hadn't opened her eyes. Two days had passed since the fox dragged her back to the cave. In those two days, she hadn't shown the slightest hint of life — not even a flinch. Yet the fox still hadn't stopped warming her body. He wasn't going to give up. Not so easily.
On the third night, the fox felt something stir beneath him. It was a sudden movement, but he was certain of it. He climbed off her and looked. Nothing. He thought it might have been his imagination and climbed back on. Then the body moved again. This time, he knew it was real. He got off and pressed his muzzle against her delicate cheek. It was still warm — perhaps even warmer than before. When he lifted his head, he saw her face, her eyes staring right at him. They were barely open, but he saw them — those delicate brown eyes, gazing at him.
He could no longer contain his excitement and licked her face as a sign of affection. The little girl smiled at him and playfully told him to stop, but he wouldn't. He was far too thrilled to see her again. When the fox finally stopped licking her, Lorelei tried to sit up, but the fox angrily pushed her back down and howled at her. Not understanding what he meant, she told him, "I'm hungry." The fox howled again and pushed her down every time she persisted, until she finally gave up. After making sure she wouldn't move, he brought her the food he had saved. The ration wasn't much — only enough to last a few weeks — but that didn't matter for now. He was just excited that his lifesaver had finally woken up.
He slowly brought her the nuts and edible herbs he had found. From a distance, he could hear Lorelei coughing. It was a sign that she was truly alive. He had to feed her slowly to prevent her from choking, but swallowing was still difficult for her, so he went out to fetch water. The river was completely frozen; thick layers of ice had formed over the surface, freezing everything in their path. Getting water from there was no easy task. He walked along the river until he found a small crack in the ice. With his paws, he began tapping against the crack, pressing down with the full weight of his body. It didn't take long for the ice beneath him to shatter, revealing the flowing water that had been dormant underneath. The fox then realized there was no way to bring the water back to his master — there were no buckets or containers to carry it to the cave. So instead, he would drink from the river and bring it back to her in his mouth.
He was surprisingly smart for an animal. It was as if he could sense and feel everything Lorelei felt. The weeks went by, and Lorelei slowly grew better under the fox's attentive care. At night, he made sure she was covered and warm. During the day, he made sure she never felt lonely.
The food ration grew smaller and smaller as they both ate. He made sure to leave most of it for Lorelei, but he himself was hungry. He often went out to look for food, but there was nothing in sight — not even the tiniest herb was growing anywhere. And the storm, everlasting, showed no signs of stopping.
He handed over the last bit of herbs to Lorelei. He already knew what the following days would bring: hunger. Two days passed without either of them eating. The fox was growing weaker, and so was Lorelei.
The fox went to the river several times to drink and brought water back to Lorelei, since she was too weak to move. But water alone wouldn't last them much longer. Something had to be done.
That night, the growls of their stomachs echoed in the cave — a constant reminder of their hunger. Something had to be done.
The fox walked over to the stone knife Lorelei had made and dragged it toward her. She shook her head in denial as she saw the pleading look in the animal's eyes. She couldn't do such a thing. They both knew what had to be done.
Tears filled her eyes as the fox relentlessly tried to place the knife in her freezing hands. She pushed him away many times — as many times as it took.
She was determined not to do it. Yet hunger still had the last word.
She couldn't take it anymore. Her stomach ached horribly. The fox sat beside her and gently rested his head on her lap, as if to say, "Everything will be fine. Do what you must."
Already blinded by hunger, she picked up the knife and stabbed through the fox's leg. It was a morbid sight — the fox howling in pain as Lorelei tried to cut through his leg. She cried and cried, repeating over and over, "I'M sorRy, I'M sorRy, I'M soRry, I'm sOrrY."
The bone became tangled and wouldn't separate. She had to tear his leg into tiny bits as she ate. Something... must... be... done.
The animal was still alive. She knew, from simple knowledge, that if he died, the meat would spoil within a few days. She felt horrible for what she was doing to the fox. Every bite made her gag, but she couldn't vomit. The hunger had already taken over, and all that remained in her was the desperate urge to satisfy it.
The fox stayed there, still breathing. He was in agony. He remained still as Lorelei cut pieces from his body, howling in pain with every stab. Something had to be done.
Days passed like this — the fox on the verge of his last breath, limbless, as Lorelei rested him on her lap. She was humming the same tune the man used to sing, but she was still weeping. She cried in horror at what she had done to the fox as she gently closed his eyes.
"Thank you..." she said, her arms trembling with horror and her face filled with sorrow.
For the second time, she had deliberately taken the life of someone important to her.
The storm abruptly stopped after weeks of raging. Finally, it ended.
The sun could be seen beaming with radiance, gracing the snow with its rays. Lorelei slowly peered out of the cave — for the first time in weeks, her face bathed in sunshine.
She looked back into the cave and gathered what was left of the fox and the rotting head of the man. She crawled back to the grave she and the fox had dug and began clearing away the snow.
After a while, the soil they had dug up appeared. She slowly placed both sets of remains inside. Then she went back to the tree where she had buried the man's gift and dug it out. Gift in hand, she crawled back to the grave.
She gently unwrapped it. It was still packaged, still sitting there beneath the tree. She must have forgotten about it after the fall.
She looked at it. She wanted to believe she didn't deserve such a gift and almost placed it back in the grave. But then she remembered the promise she had made with the man.
She couldn't abandon his last wish. So she quickly took it back and held it close to her chest.
Lorelei held it with such strength that she felt her freezing fingers grow warm, and she opened the gift.
She saw gloves — not a pair, but a single glove, meant for her. A white, lonely glove. At the bottom lay a letter. She didn't know how to read much yet; the man had only taught her a few words.
When she opened it, she could distinctly make out words like beloved, and at the bottom of the letter, she read Thank you.
The tears that had been swelling deep within her as she dug the grave all came out at once. It was a mix of joy, sadness, sorrow, and anger — all directed at herself.
She covered the grave with snow and placed a branch on top to mark where it lay.
Lorelei held the glove and gently whispered...
"Thank you, mister. Thank you, fox. I'm sorry."
Arc 1: The unwanted, end