The one that got away
To: The Big Guy That's Been Hunting Me,
First, don't feel bad about not catching me and killing me or whatever it is you Big Hunter-types like to do. Turns out us Small Hunter-types are good at hiding and getting away from trouble when we think it's dangerous.
And Big Guy, you practically exude dangerous. It, like, spills out of your pores or something. Surrounds the air around you. Like a coat made out of a bear.
So, I knew I was in trouble the moment you got a whiff of me in the bar. Which I shouldn'ta been in anyway, but that's beside the point.
But, what you gotta understand is that I don't know what I am doing here.
I mean, I know what I want to be doing. I know what's in my nature – I am curious to a fault and like to play with stuff to figure it out – but I've been trying to figure out how to do this whole mutant-turns-out-I'm-almost-a-fox thing for a few years now. Shit, I've been going to the library to figure out if the weird urges I have are normal growing-up human things or a normal growing-up fox things. Like my other dens – you'll find 'em if you haven't already (but how many do I have, Big Guy?). Turns out foxes like to have a few places to bed down during the day. Only they don't normally do it by themselves. They have other fox-family to have fun with.
Who knew, right? I thought I was going cray, but it turns out that behavior is super normal.
Speaking of which, can you do me a solid and return the library books I got in my dens? I don't want to rack up a fine :)
But I digress.
My point is that I'm still learning and I didn't know I was in your territory. I swear. Like, how would I even know that? It's not like I can just walk into town and know that it's part of some scary predator's territory. You didn't put a sign up that said "Big Predator's Territory" or pee on building or whatever so really, if you look at the situation properly, it's your fault that you got your panties in a twist.
If I'd known that I would of stayed away. Pinky promise!
So I've made a decision that will result in you having one less intruder and me having some time to stay alive.
I'm moving out and on. Getting myself right out of your hair. Or is it fur?
Let me give you some space to revel in that bit of info:
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
There do you feel better?
I know I do :)
Seriously though Big Guy, I do. This whole thing has been exhausting. And not just the time that you've been aware that I exist (though, as I mentioned before, you are super intimidating, and I think I am getting an ulcer from the stress of being hunted by you. Did I write hunted? I am losing it entirely). I mean the last few years I've constantly been overwhelmed by all of the things that I wasn't aware of before. I don't know how you made it through the perfume department with my scent still in your nose but it made me nauseous just running through there. And I wasn't trying to sort through all the smells and the people and the music and… well, you were there. You know how it was. I thought I was being clever too… my fox-self was pretty pleased when I thought of it. And my fox-self and I haven't felt pleased in a while. I live in a state of constant anxiety.
The fact is… I don't want to die. I've spend so much time trying not to die that I haven't even lived.
So do you think you can suppress your violent predator-ness for a few weeks or years or decades so that I can try and do that? Live I mean. Please? With a cherry on top? Thanks.
M
PS
This was rolled up and stuffed into the only thing I have of value. You can keep it or pawn it (Get it, paw-n it. LAWL). Consider it rent or something.
...
Victor snarled and scrunched the paper into his fist. The little bitch had got away again. He had come close to catching her three times in the past day and a half and the fury of having missed her again made him want to tear out someone's eyes through their chest.
He pulled deep breaths in through his nose and focused on burning her scent into his brain. Easily done since this was clearly her primary living space. He had found her other dens before but they weren't as lived in as this one. They lacked the sentimental things that this one had.
He crouched down over the sleeping bag and drew her scent into his nose again.
He stood, pocketing the bracelet that had originally been wrapped around the letter and studied the items that littered the tiny space. He snarled again when he found the discarded bus timetable.
He hated this shithole town.
Author's note - found this on the ol' 'puter recently. Let me know what you thought!