Page 4 of These Eternal Bones

An Improper Fox

Molly

I crush the red berry between my fingers, not enough to make it burst but just enough to make the bulb crack, revealing its sinewy looking inside.

The tip of my tongue slips out to timidly taste it, despite the gnawing, twisting hunger settling in my gut.

Two and a half days without food, my body has long passed the point of exhaustion and hunger.

It’s this or back to the creek where I tried and failed to catch any fish.

Although the idea of eating one raw churns my stomach.

The tiny fruit’s bitter, citrus flavor bursts on my tongue, and with it, I toss caution out the window.

I’m starving anyway. At least maybe this will kill me quickly.

I was an idiot for thinking I could survive three weeks out here.

I’ve barely made it three days. Each morning has come harder to wake up from.

I just want to sleep, like the woods themselves are desperate to pull me deeper within its grasp.

My dirty fingers shake wildly as I pluck coin-sized berries off their bush one after another, the flavor something both divine and off-putting.

It's tart and sour, but it’s a welcomed drop in the well of hunger that is my stomach.

When the red ones run out, I opt for the ones that are still a yellowish green.

After biting into it, my face twists up against the deeply bitter flavor, spitting it back to the ground before rushing my way through the trees back to the creek.

As I rinse my mouth, my stomach lets out another rough growl as if to remind me that what I’ve given it isn’t nearly enough.

The silent woods are suddenly shattered as a harsh, grating bark rips through the air, forcing a scream from my throat.

I lurch backward, my body hitting the rough rocks with a thud, as a large fox with its bushy tail swishing stands watch atop a rock overlooking the creek.

Its vibrant orange fur tipped in black. My pulse flutters, its eyes affixed to me.

Unyielding with something akin to mirth.

A few weeks ago, I could see myself screeching in terror, running away like a chicken with its head lopped off, but today… today I am too tired.

“You look too big to be a proper fox,” I mutter, scowling at the animal, finding myself unreasonably happy to finally see any animal at all, save for the occasional bird overhead.

It lets out another jarring bark, tilting its head at me as if it's listening.

I huff, jerking up my skirts to check the cut on my thigh.

The flesh there is an angry shade of red, hot to the touch.

I peek up at the curious animal, stoically staring away.

“Don’t even think about biting me. I’m in a terrible mood.

I probably taste foul anyhow, as you can see, I’m wretchedly filthy.

Perhaps if you stick around until the end of the week, you’ll have a corpse to pick from. You’ll simply have to be patient. ”

He, or she, I suppose, although it feels like a boy fox.

I have no basis for that, seems to glance upstream, swishing its overly large tail before jumping off its perch and hopping through the shallow water.

“I see why there are no animals, you’ve picked them all–” my words cut off as it turns my direction, casually lumbering toward me. My pulse hiccupping in my neck.

My hands fly out, gripping a large rock.

If I were standing, this fox would easily come to well above my waist. They look far smaller in picture books.

I raise the rock in warning as it stops an arm's length away from me, sitting in a nearly bored fashion. It’s beautiful, its eyes a dark shade of golden amber, soulful even.

In my experience, some of the deadliest things are the prettiest. Despite my earlier posturing, I’m not ready to die, not yet.

“I will hit you with this, and it will hurt.” The fox looks entirely unconcerned, as it should be. Even now, my arm wobbles under the weight of the rock. My eyes dart to the sky overhead. It gets dark here so quickly. Daylight always seems like it’s on its last legs.

I sigh, giving up quicker than I would’ve days ago, letting the rock drop to its companions as I heave to my feet, fully expecting to scare off my new furry friend.

I don’t. He doesn’t move, like he’s waiting for me to do something interesting.

Perhaps if I were stronger, I could’ve lobbed the rock and eaten him instead.

He stands as I take a step back, circling around the odd creature the long way.

Careful not to turn my back, it's only then he trots ahead, peeking over his shoulder occasionally, probably wondering why the smelly, deranged woman in the woods is following him. Which I’m not.

I doubt whatever hole he crawls into at night would fit me.

It would be close, though. He walks dutifully upstream, veering off now and then, and because I’m going the same way, I unintentionally follow.

When I slow, he lets out another scratchy bark .

After hours of this, I slap at the annoying beast as it circles around me, nipping at my ankles to get me moving the way it wants because I am most certainly being driven now. Likely wishing to save itself the trouble of dragging its dinner to its cave, or whatever foxes sleep in.

“No.” I pant, trying not to vomit. “I can’t go any further.

Go away.” My hands brace on my wobbling knees as the woods tilt around me.

The fox looks down at me dispassionately, now trying to steer me into the forest as I sit on the ground, sweat beading my brow despite the cold. My head is throbbing like mad.

The damned thing barks again, nipping at my arms. My stomach churns and my body trembles, although I can’t tell from what.

I feel off, but I suppose one would when starving to death in the frigid woods.

My eyes flutter as it trots from my side to the hem of my dress, promptly sticking its cold, wet nose up my skirt, making me screech.

I swat at the lupine creature, knocking it in the head several times as it tries to lick at my thigh, my hands fisting my skirts, trying to jerk them away.

I struggle until it jerks back, a menacing growl slipping behind barred teeth silences me.

Somewhere along the line, I’d forgotten… this is a wild animal.

A carnivore.

Not a friend.

I don’t know if it’s the sudden rush of adrenaline, the infection in my leg, or the weight of it all, but the world sways and takes me with it, my vision dotting black before I slump.

A harsh hiss slaps me back into my body from wherever I had gone.

The finality of the darkness greets me like a whip and with it, fear and uncertainty.

While the woods are wet, cold, and very much so miserable, they’re beautiful in their own way…

in the daylight, that is. The same cannot be said for them now.

My heart pounds violently against my ribcage, not daring so much as a flinch against the icy wind as it barrels through my sweat soaked body.

I’m ill, and something is happening. I can feel it, like a strand of hair held taut, tugged too tightly.

Copper fills my mouth as I dig my teeth roughly into my bottom lip, pleading to stay still, to stay quiet.

Another feral…demonic sound fills the woods, my eyes darting wildly to find its origin.

A brush of soft fur on my thigh pulls my attention down, the urge to scream battling the urge to tremble and vomit as the fox towers over me, staring out at something I can’t see, its bushy tail held taut above me.

There’s something deep in the darkness, something that commands it rather than exists within it; the very marrow of my bones speaks to the wrongness of it all.

Sweat drips into my eyes, stinging and demanding I blink them, even though a millisecond feels like too steep a loss.

The beast of an animal hunkers lower on top of me, letting out a warning of its own.

I don’t care why, if it's only to eat me after, I welcome its protection.

Maybe that’s the fever talking.

The seconds drag by, and the standoff seems endless, snarls and the sound of death incarnate echo around me until the silence snaps back into place like a band.

My heart bottoms out as the fox, my final safeguard, makes a roll of its head, before huffing in an all too humanlike way and lumbering off.

Just like that.

I can’t stifle the sob that works into my throat.

Unbidden, it bursts from me like a choked rattle.

That’s when I feel it . The inky substance slips over my skin and pulls me, dragging me down, down, down until it wraps and caresses.

The very blood in my veins stops and vibrates, as if it’s being pulled in reverse.

Agony like I’ve never felt before fizzles my mind until my thoughts wane.

My skin burns and bubbles, but only on the inside, until I’m a strand of hair pulled too tightly.

It goes on like that for seconds, years, an eternity until everything stops, precious seconds lost in purgatory as I feel myself… stop .

My blood.

My pounding heart.

The very vital functions of me.

For a moment, I’m weighted, pressed deep into the dirt, pushed down with the worms and larva.

For a moment, I’ve always been here. Like there are versions of me littered amongst the forest, buried deep in its grasp.

And it’s inside me.

Killing me.

Touching and invading.

Until it’s not, my functions resuming with a snap.

I scream.

Such a guttural sound rakes and claws from my lungs. My heart moves, and with mottled vision, I jerk myself upright, swaying from the ground only to meet it again with harsh finality the moment my body decides it’s had enough.