A Fox Tastes A Moose

THE FOX

'Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!'

El Ritch's body lay sprawled, his blood soaking into the earth in thick, pulsing rivulets. The gaping wound in his stomach was deep, grotesque, a brutal puncture from the tusk of that thing. And yet the beast had already moved on, as if El Ritch was no more significant than an insect crushed beneath its heel.

The fox snarled, skidding to a stop, her claws raking against the dirt as she took in the battlefield.

'Why does this kid have shit for brains…?'

He should have run. Should have listened. Should have known his place instead of throwing himself into a war he had no hope of surviving.

She bared her teeth, eyes flicking to the glowing blue light of the barrier ahead.