Yeah, I would say I knew them. I didn’t have any time for them. Especially not that scrawny little grey
wimp. They were based out on the edge of
the small wood a half day or so away, when my clan were on the edge of a small
human settlement. Good for raids. They would neither of them (I don’t count the
blind runt) think twice about coming into our territory. We are not anti-social, but we have rules for
a reason. It’s like my ancestor used to
say. Now there was a tough fox. They don’t make them like that so much
anymore. When he spoke there was
silence. His word was law, and if you
didn’t like it, just try to fight him and see where that got you. When it was time for him to die, he just
walked off into the snow and didn’t come back.
And that was that. Wouldn’t want
to be a burden on the others. My father
told me; he watched him go. Beyond the
snow line, and never seen again. There’s
no room for sentiment with us. I
understood it from day one. My first
vixen’s litter was large; no way could she nurse them all. So I did what I had to.
So these two would show up every so often and act like they
were something special. Around our
females too. Who fell for it. Neglecting their duties, or their young if
they had them. The grey one would act
like it was a big deal to go into the human settlement. Scavenge trash from outside the dwellings, in
the dark, of course. Big deal. We have been doing that for years, and by day
too. He would come back and talk about
things they’d seen there. Not to do with
collecting food, but just looking around.
Looking around is how foxes get killed.
One young female from our lot who they got friendly with lapped up their
rubbish. Went into the settlement with
them one night and we never saw her again.
Well, she was no loss to us.
Mentally subnormal. Couldn’t hunt
for herself. We let that go.
But I couldn’t sit by when the grey one came sniffing around
a young female I had decided would be mine.
As was no less than my right. She
was a bit crazy – eccentric, but well-built with a fine coat, with like a sheen
about her. You could tell she’d mother
some fine cubs. And I didn’t want
another litter with the last. She was lazy
and neglected her cubs. A few times I
had to keep her in line.
So anyway, this time I caught them together. In a small copse of trees on the edge of our
dens, where we tolerated the three of them staying in some abandoned dens;
really just enlarged warrens that an old fox who couldn’t dig used to crawl
into shelter before he died used. They
were welcome to them; if they hadn’t the shame.
The female moved away, obviously ready to come crawling. But he acted without any respect. Slowly getting to his feet. I remember her stretched himself. But he knew he was in for it – that he had
crossed a line.
I walked over slowly, tail down. Till I could see and smell his fear. She was keeping her distance but
watching. It’s all just a game – entertainment
– for them. I asked him if he knew who I
was. He didn’t answer at first. I told him if I had to ask again it would be
worse for him. He was shifting
awkwardly, expecting the attack but clearly not having any idea how to deal
with me. He was a little younger than
me, it’s true, but I’d been fighting since I was way younger than he was
then. He was terrified, could only
manage a nod to my question. Then you’ll
know how badly you’ve fucked up by taking one of our females. One of my females, I was thinking, but this
was really official business I was transacting on behalf of the group. He was trying to say something to get him off
the hook, but it was too late. I went
for him. He put up virtually no
resistance and within seconds I had him pinned by the throat; I held him like
that until I felt his muscles drain completely.
I could have killed him in another few seconds, the weakling. But I let him go. Told him that if he came back to our
territory he was dead. And he knew that
I wasn’t kidding, and that would be him done for, if he was stupid enough not
to take me at my word. I left him
there. He didn’t even move. Just lay still. Not so cocky now. She had been making noises from a distance…
the usual. But when I told her she had
to come back with me, she came without a word.
Before we went too far, an idea came to me. ‘Aren’t you going to say goodbye?’ I said.
‘You won’t be seeing each other again.’
She didn’t know what to do.
‘Look back and call goodbye. It’s
only polite.’ She looked at me for
permission again and I nodded. She
looked back at where he was still lying and called out. And then again, her voice stronger the second
time. But he was silent, and wouldn’t
look towards us, though of course he had heard; I could tell from the pricking
of his ears. You can’t fake that. That was my way of showing her that I’d saved
her from a mistake.
I bore no grudges that she’s been with an outsider, who
hadn’t sought the proper ways in. She
had a litter of my cubs the end of that winter.
Soon after she went out looking for food during a storm that had already
lasted for three days. She was killed on
the road, maybe disorientated by the conditions. I know because a friend found her body a few
days later. Of course, by then the pups
were dead too. I never saw her body
myself. I went up a week later but by
then there was nothing left. The crows,
and the other scavenging animals will pick you clean; your bones will end up
gnawed by rats.
