The Bones Below | ONC 2023 | ✔️

SIX

Morning sun streamed through branches above and dappled the leaf-strewn ground with shadows. Kip led her family down a worn path where all vegetation had been trampled by many countless paw-steps. What had used to be a bustling avenue long ago was now a wooded glen in the middle of the city. Her kits squabbled and bickered behind her, as kits did, but Kip was silent. Her one eye would always flick upward to the patches of blue sky peeking through the green canopy of leaves.

For now, her little kits were fed and unharmed, despite their complaints of achy paws. Their journey through the eagle's territory had so far been unremarkable, save for the constant ticking of Death Watch beetles burrowing in the trunks of the trees. Kip only hoped it would remain that way.

"Mom!"

Vin's sudden shriek made the fur along the vixen's spine stand on end. Kip whirled around, searching for danger with her one eye.

She only found the tiny she-fox rubbing at her ear while her brother glowered at her. "Neer bit me!" Vin whined.

Kip groaned and shook her head while she forced her tensed muscles to relax. "Did you bite him first?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then you deserved it."

Neer stuck his tongue out at his sour-faced sister.

Kip continued on her way with her cubs scurrying after her, tripping over scattered bones. "Stay on my right side where I can see you two," she reminded her young. "Now, again. When I say 'run,' you...?"

"We run away as fast as we can, and we don't look back," was Neer's monotonous answer. "No matter what."

"Good. And if you run into another animal and I'm not around?"

Vin swatted at a fat bumblebee that buzzed around her snout. "I ask them to please be nice."

"No."

The easily distracted kit sat on her haunches and tilted her head in thought. "We...ask them if they want to be friends?"

Kip hung her head and swished her tail tip in frustration. "No."

Neer shoved past his stumped sister who seemed more preoccupied with her new bee friend than her mother's questions. "We stay hidden," he answered. "Or we run."

Now it was Vin's turn to stick her tongue out at her brother.

"Good," Kip said. "And if you see the eagle or her young...?"

Neer fixed her with a blank, orange-eyed stare. "Then we're already dead."

Before Kip could sputter anything in response, a new voice piped from the surrounding foliage. She arched her back and stood between her cubs and the mangy red creature that limped toward them from the underbrush.

"Running from the eagle, eh?" rasped the old shadow-thin she-fox that confronted them.

Kip curled her lip at the intruder blocking their path, showing her her fangs.

The other fox's lips drew back as well, though in a smile of yellowed and broken teeth. Scant traces of white foam oozed from her gums.

Kip could taste the rancid and sour tinge of disease on the roof of her mouth. Nausea churned in her gut.

The old vixen hacked a phlegmy cough at the ground, then she rubbed at her face with her paw. She absolutely reeked of death. The scent settled around them all like a heavy, invisible fog. "Wish I had the strength to risk that journey." Her dull eyes followed the length of the road ahead of them. "But I'm afraid my path ends here. At least the eagle leaves those of us with the water fear alone. Small consolations, eh?"

"My condolences," was Kip's flat response.

The sick fox craned her neck forward to get a better look at the two gawking cubs peering from behind their mother. Vin flashed a nervous smile.

The other vixen flashed her rotting teeth again. "I wish you and your brood well," she said to Kip. She flicked her tail in farewell at the trio and limped off into the woods, taking the scent of death with her.

Kip nudged her kits to their feet, and continued on walking.

"Mom, is that lady going to be okay?" Vin asked as she padded alongside her mother.

"Yes," Kip said, a bit too quickly. Her face was grim and her jaw taut. Her tensed shoulders bore the added weight of the blessing of a dying fox.

"Are we going to be okay?" Neer asked.

"Yes."

In the backdrop of knobby trees, dogs chewed on bones; both of other animals and those of the species their kind used to call their best friend. But they left the foxes alone.

Kip grew accustomed to the steady crunch of little bones under her paws. So when she took a step and felt only the quiet cushion of leaves, she froze.

Not a single bone lay scattered about on the path in front of them. Her hackles raised at the fresh scent of other animals.

"Kits," she growled. Her tone made her giggling kits go silent and still. "Run."

Her kits obediently dashed away just as a screaming phalanx of boars charged at the vixen from the trees. Once the servants of man, the beasts that the fox snarled at had gone feral and huge, with raised bristles of hair down their backs and pearl-white curling tusks. They'd long lost all sense of dignity and domestication, and the bones they scavenged and devoured weren't enough to keep them fed. Their black eyes rolled crazily and their jowled mouths salivated at the sight of the fox, famished for meat.

The vixen stood her ground. Hellish squealing filled the air as the boars lowered their tusks and swarmed her. The fox barked and rolled out of the way, barely avoiding getting trampled under hooves or gored by tusks. A body slammed into her, tossing her like a ragdoll. All breath was forced from her when she hit the ground hard. The overpowering stench of pig swam in her nose, and the damned beasts would not stop squealing. She snapped at any brute that got too close. And they learned to keep their distance, though every once in a while, a pig would break rank to mock charge at the fox, teasing her; too stupid to attack as one. Too cowardly to attack alone. And the fox was trapped in the middle of them with her jaws open wide and ears back and flat against her skull.

One boar with tusks so overgrown, they almost curled backward back into his face, shoved his way to the forefront. He pawed at the dirt with a hoof and lowered his snout. And then he charged. This time, Kip was too slow. She caught the red flash of her own blood staining the pig's tusks.

Kip embraced her end and hoped she taught her cubs well.

A dark shape dove from the sky, and, in a flash, red score marks slashed across the boar's face. The beast squealed in pain and fear and turned tail and ran for the cover of trees. The other pigs kicked up dust and abandoned the fox, shrieking after their leader.

Kip turned to the sky and gasped at the sight of outstretched black talons reaching for her as the eagle's eldest son dove for her.

And she froze with fear, just as she had done when her mate was taken from her.

You're already dead, a voice echoed in her head.

1215/9246 words