The Girl and The Fox

Chapter 8



Isabella glanced all around her whilst she ambled into the never ending, wilting forest of wonders. She could see the rough bark of the trees, stretching up to the sky so they towered far above her. The leaves let slits of the star-like moon through to guide Isabella on the start of her journey.

There were no factories or building, polluting the fresh, spotless air and ruining the exotic views, no motorbikes making sound pollution, and no cars coming to trample every innocent animal, crushing their brittle, little bones. All there was, was peace and quiet. Only the slight crunch of the dead autumn leaves beneath the raven girl's bare, shoeless feet.

The song birds were quiet, all fast asleep until the break of day and not a sound was heard from the owls staring at her every move, but she could still hear someone's feet, scraping against the moist, rooty soil. More than one person's feet, two, three, five, eight, more than you could count.

Slowly, Isabella turned around, 360°. There was another set of swift, darting feet, but it sounded more like paws, scratching against the stern but soft mud. Once more, she turned around, to only find she was completely trapped by the trapped by the paws. Another one after another, wasting their effort to cut her off. She was trapped in a circle of... foxes?

The cocky leader triumphantly stepped forward, shooting the innocent girl, who's frangible skin looked vitreous in the light of the luminous, sparkling moon, a hostile glare. Isabella was 10 times the size of the tiny, harmless animals, but her instincts told her that she was going to have a harder time slipping past the mutts than she would have with her self-centred mother

'Why didn't I write my will before this?' Isabella thought to herself, sure that they would lunge at her and attempt to rip out her throat any second. To her surprise, in a blur, infront of her stood a middle aged man and a young woman. The man stared at her with his piercing grey eyes. He was giving Isabella the 'I-know-you-don't-you-remember-me?' look, but she was sure she had never seen him in her entire life.

The muddy haired woman cast a hateful glance at Isabella, and she instantly knew that the brunette thought she was disposable. The brunette whispered something to the man, scowling when he brushed her away. Isabella assumed she was his wife.

'Leave it, Stacey. She's coming back with us, and you won't talk me out of it,' the ginger haired man replied.

He lifted his head to the frightened girl he seemed to know. As his eyes shifted to hers, his gaze softened.

'Don't you remember me, dear?' he soothingly asked, Isabella thinking that now he might not be so bad, whilst Stacy cast a worried glance at him. Isabella lightly shook her head. She didn't trust her voice not to scream and bust any chance of her to keep living. She could still feel the eyes of the many blood red foxes behind her boring into her back, and she was sure everyone could see right through her.

'I believe you have met Scarlett?' he questioned. 'Well, you should have. I'm her father and also...'

'...My father,' the now angered girl finished. 'Why weren't you th... Where is Scarlett anyway?'

'Safe. I hope. I expect she will be slippery enough to get past your mother this time, as well as the past few. I think I better go back and check!' Isabella's newly known father turned to the woman with the hair like her head had been shoved into a marshy brown puddle. Stacy. They were not going to get along! 'You will take her back and get her a room. If you have to, guard the doors,' and with that, he left Isabella and the other mongrels.

The brunette, just after the grey eyed man had gone out of sight, snatched Isabella's wrist with an iron grip, permanently marking her hand in her skin.

'Didn't your mother tell you about the danger of trespassing in these woods?' Stacy mocked. 'Oh right, your mother's a drunkard so she doesn't care about you!'

Isabella instantly growled, the words piercing her skin like a bullet to the heart. Stacy was just the same as the other mutts. She wasn't her father's wife.

Her senses sharpened and she felt her boiling, red blood surging inside her veins, like millions of horses trampling through. 'I won't be taken away from my family unless I choose to!' Isabella thought, now with uncontrollable anger. She was going to start and finish this fight. Loosing was not an option.

She kneed Stacy in the gut, darted away towards a tree then disappeared into the night. In a flash, she knocked the brunette down with such force a unmistakable crack was heard from her twisted back. An auban haired man roughly pulled her back from Stacy by her hair, and tried to force her small, grubby hands behind her back. The rogue girl just manically laughed and pulled away with ease. Another growl rose in her throat, and before she could think, she had a bushy tail sticking out of her rear, and ripped off the defenceless man's head, sticky blood gushing out like waves on a beach.

Her wolf mouth was dripping with the red liquid that felt right to be in her drooling mouth. One by one, she either ripped out the people's vital organs or their head off.

The hostile wolf looked around at her work with red eyes like what was coating her victims. Their blood stuck to her pearly coat of fur, pasting it down as if it was glue.

She gulped, feeling her stomach drop and her coat changing from a silvery white to a wine red. Her tail became bushy and stiff with the glutinous blood. A plan she could have used popped into her head. 'Why hadn't it come before I caused all this damage?' The vixen asked herself. She could smell the scent of blood, and lifeless, rotting guts in the eerie silence, and suddenly it didn't feel right anymore.

She was, after all, a hybrid of her father and mother, but she knew that the explanation of this would be a hard one.

What had she done?!

______________

'Her transformation has started. Please don't fail me,' and with that, Death picked up his shadowed, over-sized scythe and left the room with the hologram of the bloody fox and decomposing, blood drenched bodies that would never be reincarnated.

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If you want to find out whether you would have turned into a fox or wolf first, look at this...

Fox Wolf

Sly or coragous

Cunning or Fierce

Reliable or Survival

Good hearing or Sharp senses

Good eye sight or Angry

Good smell or Meet your mate (have a wife/husband/boyfriend/girlfriend)

tactical or Good smell

Which ever animal you have most of the senses above is the one you would have changed into first.


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