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06-18-2014, 01:48 PM
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You almost don’t see her at first. The little fox’s white pelt blends in so well with the sand that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to her camouflaged form if she hadn’t been bounding toward you. What an odd place for a fox to be, you think to yourself as you watch her reach the shoreline. Especially on a day like today—she must be sweltering in that coat. However, she does not enter the water just yet. Catching your eye, the fox wags her tail in a fashion so doglike that it’s comedic. Then it dawns on you: Ouija. She was much smaller when you last saw her, a kit who tumbled over her own paws as she scampered through the brush. The fox before you is a little larger and a little older, but there is no mistaking the familiarity in her eyes. This is no wild animal; this is Voodoo’s companion. Sure enough, when you look up, Voodoo is not far off. He too has changed since you last saw him. You were always of the opinion that he is a rather handsome boy, and it seems as if with each passing day since your last encounter, he has been proving you right. He is at that tender age between lanky colt and strapping stallion, and while you have a feeling that he will never be massive, you can see lean muscle beginning to develop on slender legs and the baby-like softness is beginning to disappear from his features. Yet he still stands on the dune above you awkwardly, unsure of himself as he clears his throat and grunts a monosyllabic, “Hey.” Quite the charmer, isn’t he, Sheba? You raise your head, honey-brown eyes locking on his maroon ones—or rather, locking on the eye that is not hidden behind masses of wavy hair. “Voodoo,” you greet him, a benign smile flickering over velvet lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Tags: @[Voodoo] |
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