The winter forest was quiet, peacefully so, broken only by the creaking of the trees in the wind. The snow had stopped its gentle fall less then an hour ago, everything was still covered in clean white.
The hunter was careful not to disturb the silence. He knew that the only chance he would have of bringing down his prey was to catch it off guard, give it no chance to run. Fox spirits were fast, sly creatures, practically impossible to catch once they were aware of your presence.
The hunter tightened his grip on his bow as he carefully stepped through the snow. Despite the difficulty of the hunt before him, he couldn't afford to fail. His village, small and unprotected, had been hit several times by a mischievous spirit, one that struck quickly and left, leaving broken windows and dead animals in its wake. This winter had been hard, they couldn't afford the continue loss of animals, the constant repairs. And there was only one such spirit in this forest.
He pulled his blue robe closer, shivering slightly. He had been out for hours, tracking even in the falling snow. It was early afternoon, he needed to either find the fox or turn back before evening. It would get colder after the sun went down… too cold for him to continue. He had to find the fox.
...
The kitsune lay in a curled ball in the rocky hollow, tail tucked under his chin, eyes closed. The snowstorm that had struck during the night had forced him to find a temporary shelter in the forest, away from his usual home, and he had fallen asleep as soon as he had curled up. He had been tired from the fight the previous evening, tired enough to sleep soundly through the storm and all morning.
A bird chirped suddenly nearby, then took flight. The fox's ears perked up, and his dark brown eyes opened to scan the forest. The bird was warning him… there was something dangerous nearby.
The fox crawled quietly from his hollow, into the underbrush. A human, maybe? From the village, a hunter or gatherer…
A shiver ran up his spine, and he crouched against the ground. No, that wasn't the feel of a human. The forest didn't like this being, he could feel the trees hostility. The bakeneko…?
Something pounced on him from behind, digging sharp claws into his skin and driving him to the ground. He snarled and rolled, lashing a claw at his attacker. Yes, it was him. The cat spirit that had invaded his forest. The blue-furred feline hissed as he pounced again, claws outstretched.
...
The hunter heard the yowling, and knew instantly something was wrong. The forest suddenly felt different, almost as if the wind and trees themselves were anxious. He hesitated for a moment, then drew an arrow from his quiver and headed quickly towards the source of the noises. He knew this forest well, and even as he ran he made little sound. There were animals fighting ahead, and, for some reason, something was drawing him to that fight.
The animal sounds broke off for a moment, followed by what sounded like a human voice raised in victory. The hunter's eyes widened as the forest shivered around him, the air seeming to grow a little colder. He was close, just a little further!
And then he broke into a small clearing, and he saw what had so confused him. A man… no, a bakeneko, stood over his fox counterpart, teeth red with blood. Both were in their human forms, though it appeared the cat had transformed first. And he was reaching for the wounded fox's throat, his razor-sharp claws glinting in the light.
And then he lurched forward, the hunter's arrow driving into the small of his back. He stumbled, falling to his knees beside his would-be victim. The forest stilled for a moment.
"Killed by a human…?" gasped the cat-spirit, then seemed to lose the strength needed to hold himself up. He fell to the ground and lay still for a moment before slowly fading into nothing. A black butterfly rose into the air and disappeared in the pale sunlight.
The hunter rushed down into the dip, untying his warm second robe. The fox-spirit tucked his feet underneath him and sat up, looking at him for a moment before relaxing.
"You're from the village?" he asked as the hunter came to a stop next to him.
"Yes," replied the white-haired hunter, not seeming to notice the cold as he dropped his second robe around the fox's shoulders. "You're shivering… how long until you can transform again?"
The fox looked down as he slipped into the warm robe. "A day. You… saved my life."
The hunter looked at him for a moment, then set aside his bow and drew a knife from his belt. With a quick jerk, he cut a long strip of white cloth from his tunic. "That cat was causing trouble for my village as well. He didn't belong here," he said as he gently began wrapping the kitsune's injured hand.
"No, he didn't," agreed the fox, looking up at his rescuer. The human seemed intent on his work, his yellow eyes fixed downward. With his free hand, the fox reached up to close the open front of his robe. "Thank you."
The hunter glanced up, then ducked his head again, hiding his smile. "You're welcome."