Water rushes from overhead, constantly churning away at the rock deep below the white, bubbling surface that has eroded over years of constant beating. You stand parallel to the water, your right side held against the smoothly flowing creek, worried eyes staring down at the tiny life you've been watching over so carefully for the past few weeks. As you woke up and stretched out your long neck earlier, your glassy eyes found that the egg had cracked sometime in the middle of the night. Whether it was from you unknowingly tapping it with a sharp hoof or perhaps pressure of you rolling onto it, you are sure that all of your worrisome days have come and gone only for you to fail and lose the life.

The crack is small, maybe an inch long, and hasn't shown any signs of anything leaking out. The egg sits in a small nest of dying moss that you gathered in the Glowing Room the other day, still as it has ever been. Your chest is tight and worried, steel butterflies bouncing around in your stomach; a shaky sigh escapes from a heavy breath, rummy nostrils fluttering along with the exhale. "I'm sorry little one." you whisper, your cranium dropping to the surely ended life as you speak. Just as rough lips touch the tough shell, the egg quivers in it's nest, the life inside pressing hard against the layer of minerals keeping it trapped.

Bright eyes pop open and your face pulls away from the movement quickly out of surprise, ears pressing forward as you stare at the being with excited eyes. The shell pops in a few spots, the crack spreading along the length of the entire egg, a pressure from inside creating another crack to sprout off of the original on either side. Whatever weight is being thrown around inside causes the egg to roll out of the small nest, and the shell falls apart into large chunks. A white ball of thick fur stretches from a fetal position, large oil drop eyes peeling open to stare up at you, a tiny wet nose pulls up into the air and large triangular ears pop up off of her head.

A whine escapes her tiny body and your heart may as well have fallen into your stomach, everything about this tiny white fox pulls your attention toward her, and you can feel the warmth of her life spread through your thick veins. Without realizing it, you've been smiling like the bizarre Cheshire Cat ever since the egg began to move. Your mug drops to the tiny pup and you blow a few hot breaths on her. The pup's fur quivers against each breath, her tiny body reaching to just a little under your ankles. Her eyes pinch closed as your breath hits her face, ears perked forward happily, her bushy tail wagging back and forth once before sticking straight out again. She sits on her backside with both black-padded back feet crossed, causing her to slump at an awkward angle.

You cannot help but continue smiling, nudging and breathing on her excitedly before even thinking about it. Once as you nudge her, her warm front paws lift off of the cool floor and press against the center of your snout, perfectly between both nostrils. A light hearted chuckle rolls from your thin chest and you can feel the steel butterflies settling, your chest releasing it's beyond worried tension. "Hello little Ouija." you purr, letting her slide down from her up-right position and land back onto the rock with both front paws; only her still crossed back legs do not agree with the movement and her miniature body tips over, falling onto her right side, a squeak coming from her lungs as she lands. Worry strikes you like a bolt of lightning for only a spilt second before the pup crawls back to her wobbly, uncooperative feet. The warm smile returns to your blood splattered face, the recent depression seeming to just shed off of your body in layers.

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