The Beauty of the Beast

Through the long grass, I see glints of orange. Slowly and silently, I pick my way over undergrowth, through the trees and across a stream. As I draw closer, I can make out eyes. I try balancing on my haunches, but eventually give in and sit down on the wet ground – I may be in for a long wait. In the air, there’s a familiar pungent scent, the scent of fox.

After a while, he gets up and walks, coat shimmering gold as he passes through shards of sunlight. He eyes me up a couple of times, his poi
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