So this was an idea I had floating around in my head a while back and since Halloween recently passed I started writing it down. Hope you enjoy.

A/N:

Crickets chirping.

The leaves are still.

The grass does not sway.

The canopy is parted, moonlight reflecting off the dew.

All is peaceful and still.

Until the young fox running for his life burst through the wall of leaves, sprinting across the damp grass, crushing it beneath his weight. Nearly to the other side and plops of dirt popup beside him, the buzz of death singing in his ear.

Safely across the opening and into the concealment of the leaves once more, he doesn't bother slowing down. The soldiers that shot at him weren't the ones chasing directly behind him. He'd managed to give them the slip a couple of times only to be sighted again and fired upon. The hills of Canin were numerous and steep. No one had expected to find a large force of enemy soldiers this deep into their territory. Yet, when the young fox's patrol stumbled upon them, all hell broke loose.

The opening shots wiped out half his squad and shattered the radio they carried to ribbons. Before his squad leader was hit he told him to run and warn the others. Now all he wanted to do was make it out of this mess alive. The enemy set their hares after him, their fastest runners. They'd apparently forgotten that a fox was once their natural predator. Although the roles were reversed at the moment. He used every ounce of cunning to lose his pursuers but to no prevail.

In the end, only three managed to stay with him. The others tiring or fallen to shots the young fox managed to take at them. Their weak eyesight may be helped by the full moon that shone overhead but that only meant his own night vision was enhanced all the more. Eventually, he'd dwindled his ammunition down to his last half empty magazine. Now he was running blindly in a general direction. Only stopping when he came to a cliff, his hindpaws sliding across the dirt as he grabbed a branch from a nearby tree in a desperate attempt not the fall off it. The descent down was not as far as it first seemed just very steep with loose rocks before the treeline started again.

The young fox took a moment to glance around and to his surprise spotted a...castle? No, it was just an old stone house built into the side of the hill! This was it, his chance to finally turn the table on his pursuers. He'd lead them into the old house and ambush them there. Before he could think any further he felt an immense pressure go through his right shoulder. So much so that it caused him to drop his rifle and he was flung over the cliff and down the hill. Toppling over rocks and debris before slamming hard into a tree trunk square in his back, knocking all the air from his lungs. He was certain he heard his spine crunch under the stress. It certainly felt like it.

Before he spent any more time wondering about his injuries his ears perked in the direction above. Voices were approaching the cliff's edge. He went to raise himself up and felt a sharp pain from his shoulder, unable to move adequately, he tilted his head and saw the crimson blood now pouring from him. He could hear the voices getting louder, using his good arm, he lifted himself up and staggered into the tree line.

Using his good paw, he placed as much pressure as he could to stem the flow of his life's essence. The voices behind him had grown faint. They'd either given up or were waiting till he bled to death. Determined to disappoint them, he continued working towards the old house he'd seen on the other hillside. At some point he'd lost his helmet and rifle, all he had left was his heavy armored vest and knife. His exhaustion and blood loss pulled heavily on his eyelids. His mind telling him to rest and his body beginning to fail. The pain in his tail said it was probably broken, his back ached with every step.

Despair was over taking him as he leaned on a tree for support, his eyes barely open, his breathing raspy. He went to push off the tree and fell to his knees under his own weight. "This is it, this is how I die." He thought, alone and forgotten. The way he'd spent his short life. Wanting to see the stars once more, he craned his head back with more force than it should have required and opened his eyes.

Only to be disappointed once more. The canopy of the trees blocked the night sky from all but the birds who built their nest at the top. Silent tears finally began to soak into the fur of his face. A bitterness to his situation, his life and those he'd dealt with, was the last emotion to cross his soul as he slowly lowered his gaze back to...a light?

Yes! A light through the trees ahead, yellow and faint but a light nonetheless! Hope welled up inside him as he found the strength to stand and move on. After a few moments of travel, he finally saw the source of the light. A candle in the window of the stone house. Only, now that he was close to it, it wasn't a house but a huge manor by fox standards. He moved as quickly as he was able to the front door. Not bothering to knock, he turned the handle and gained entrance. He mind did not ask why the door was unlocked, nor why there were no lights on the bottom floor. He spotted a set of stairs where the flickering of a candle could be seen flowing down from above. The young fox shambled over, stopping at the base and looked up, calling out to whoever had struck the light.

"Hello?"

A voice. A voice calls out nearby. My senses have dulled greatly. I can no longer see, my hearing which was once my greatest strength is reduced to muffles. My body is weak and brittle. I have not had company is so long. Is my mind playing tricks on me again?

"Miss?" A voice! I did hear a voice! They are close! So close I can smell...fox!

With no answer, the young fox cautiously climbs the stairs with great effort. Leaning heavily on the rails as he lifts one foot in front of the other. Finally reaching the top he cast his eyes around and beheld a...a bunny! A very old bunny. Her fur was silver with age and skin clung loosely to her bones. Eyes now white orbs, ears still held high but curved forward have long their rigidity long ago.

"Miss?" He called out. The only answer a flick of her ear as it searched the room for the source of the sound. He walked up the rest of the steps and called once again.

"Miss? Can you hear me?" Her ears centered on him before her head lifted and unfocused gaze turned towards him. A creepy smile dawned her lips as her buck teeth came into view.

"Have you come to visit?" She said in a frail, almost broken voice.

"I need your help. Please." The young fox tried to walk to her but stumbled halfway there, falling to his knees once more. "I-I'm sorry." Finally succumbing to the pain and blood loss, his world went black as his eyes closed on their own.

He fell? What could cause him to fall so? My joints are stiff but it appears I must go to him. His breathing is becoming labored. I wonder if he's injured? I can smell the blood, lots of blood. I hope he hasn't lost too much already.

The old rabbit slowly paces her way towards the injured vulpine till she stands in front of him. She reaches out and runs a paw across his neck, burying her fingers in his fur. She finds his pulse, weak though it may be, it'll be enough.

Coming to his senses, the young fox opens his eyes and sees two ears beside his head. He senses a warmth around his neck and a frail arm wrapped around the back of his head.

"Hey, um, what are you-AH!" Pain. Such pain ran from his neck to the end of his tail before he blacked out again.

The old rabbit drank several mouthfuls before dropping the vulpine to the floor. She tried not to wretch as the blood flowed strength through her. The sour taste of adrenaline was thick in the fox's blood. What had he been doing to get so worked up? She thought. Slowly her vision returned, she felt strength coursing through her muscles once more. Her ears were twitching as she finally registered the sound of footsteps below. Someone was ascending the stairs.

She watched as a hare wearing a strange hat and clothes stepped up the stairs. When he saw her, he shined a bright light to her face. Causing her to wince at the sting it caused her eyes; she didn't see the weapon in his hand.

"Who are you?" He called.

"Who am I?" She was elated at the strength that had returned to her voice. "I, am your death." She announced before launching herself at him.

A few minutes later she knelt on the floor holding her third hare to her. Her lips desperately attached to his throat as she drained the last of his blood. She had rushed through all three. It had been a long time since her last feeding and she would need it all to return to her peak. Finished, she rolled his body from her and took several deep breaths. Standing, she walked to a mirror that hung one of the stone walls, cracked and covered in dust. Noting the perk in her ears had returned from the last time she was able to see them, the color of her eyes were once again violet and bright, her fur once again shone healthy and in its true grey color. She looked as she did in back her early twenties. When she'd first laid eyes on...her ear twitched.

From the floor above the faintest groan of a breath reached her ear. Smiling, she sauntered back up the stairs. Looks like she wasn't done feeding after all. As she approached, she studied the dying fox. He wore clothes like the hares but with a different pattern. He even wore one of those hard vests that they wore. They'd given her some trouble getting through them. Then she noticed the hole in his shoulder. Must have been from one of those weapons they'd tried to use on her. His fur was matted and caked in filth, but she could still see the brilliant red of his cheeks and the crimson of his ears and paws. His tail was bent at an awkward angle. The tip is what drew her attention the most. It was so rare to see a fox with a dark tip like his, it reminded her of…

She shook her head from the thought. He wasn't coming back. A mellinia had passed and he hadn't returned. Focusing her ears she was able to hear the faintest of heartbeats within him. Foxes always were hard to kill, she thought bitterly. Opening the hardened vest, she spread it out, exposing his torso. Straddling his chest as she sat upon him, she thought she'd take her time and enjoy this one. Foxes held so much more blood than any form of rabbit, she thought.

Eying her previous bite, she now realized how he had managed to live. In her weakened state, she had missed his artery. Well, she wouldn't make that mistake now. She leaned forward, the weakly pulsing vein garnering her full attention. She slid her paws up his chest for better support, when they crossed a piece of fabric stitched to the shirt. In her curiosity, she glanced down to see it and then promptly looked back towards his neck. Only to stop as her ears went straight up and her eyes went wide. She looked back at the fabric and saw it had a name embroidered upon it.

"Wilde." She whispered. "Could it be?" She looked up to his muzzle and studied it. It looked so familiar. She pulled his snout down to better study his face, the resemblance in her memory was astounding. She lifted his eyelid and was about to squeal in joy at the green pupils. Then she paused.

She'd been here before. Thought he had returned only for it to be an imposter. She needed to know his name. She needed him to wake up. But returning life to him would make him immune to her bite and she didn't want to deal with wasting her strength and then losing a meal. She had to get a response from him.

"Fox! Can you hear me?" She said in a stern voice. No reply. Growling in frustration she grabbed his shirt and shook him slightly in an attempt to wake him. Doing so caused a jingling sound under his shirt. She dropped him back to the floor and quickly ripped the buttons apart, finding two flat metal disk with writing stamped in them, she examined the words pressed into the flimsy metal. They cause her to gasp and place a paw over her dainty muzzle. Eyes wide once more and glued to the words.

Wilde, Nicholas P.

B Pos

03042016

Vulpes Vulpes

With a whispering breath, she looked back at the muzzle of the reincarnated lover of her youth. "It is you."