Chapter 7
For days, Cedar wandered around the forest, delirious with grief. He'd gone back to the river, and searched up and down it, but found no trace of Clover. His father and sister were gone. He was all alone.
It's my fault, Cedar told himself as he lay under the thick branches of a pine tree during a night storm. I should have taken better care of them…I broke Big Mama's promise…I've failed my family…
The wind howled as the storm raged on, making a very lonely sounding noise. Cedar shivered, the rain leaking through the branches and soaking his fur.
I wish I could just die, right here. Then I'd be with my family again.
Eventually, the storm relented, and the sun rose once more. Cedar slept until the humming of cicadas woke him up. The air was humid and sticky. Cedar shook raindrops off his fur, and continued aimlessly wandering. He knew he should be heading to the east, where it was supposedly safer, but he didn't care about that anymore. He didn't care if more hunters came and shot him.
He found himself at the bottom of the slope where his family had been broken up by the hounds chasing them. He could still detect faint traces of their stinking pelts. Suddenly, a fairly fresh scent wafted over him, and he froze in terror.
There's a hound here…where is it? He looked wildly around, but saw nothing. Then, a low whimper came from the nearby ditch. Cedar slowly made his way towards it, and peered over the edge.
There, lying in the mud at the bottom was indeed a hound. Its eyes were closed, and its coat was covered in grime and dried blood. Its ribs were poking through its matted coat, and it was whimpering in its sleep. Cedar stood there, bewildered. He'd never seen a hound so…helpless looking. He hopped down into the ditch, and slowly approached the unconscious dog. He reached out a paw and poked at it.
You're crazy, he told himself. That's a HOUND, it'll rip you to shreds!
The dog blinked. It looked around weakly, and then let out a hoarse moan.
Cedar cautiously sniffed the air, trying to pick up the scent of man, but found none. This hound was on its own. He poked it again.
What am I doing? Hounds killed my family! Why should I help one? Cedar continued to reprimand himself, but somehow, he couldn't leave this hurt creature alone in the ditch, and, being a fox, he had a naturally large curiosity.
The hound looked weakly up at Cedar. "Huh? Who's there?" he mumbled, sounding confused.
"Um…I'm Cedar. What happened to you?"
"Had to get away…fell down here…too tired to get up." The dog was obviously delirious. Cedar wondered how long it had been since he'd had food or water.
"Um…just stay there," said Cedar. "I'll go catch something for you."
He still couldn't understand why he was helping a hound….a hound, of all creatures. But after being chased out of his home and hunted down, Cedar knew what it was like to feel helpless. Suddenly, he remembered the story Tod used to tell him as a kit, of how he battled a giant bear to save his childhood friend, also a hound.
Would you have helped this dog too, Dad? Cedar wondered as he crept up on an unsuspecting rabbit, nibbling at a flower. He pounced and killed the rabbit with one swift bite, then brought it back to the hound and dropped it into the ditch next to him.
"Here…I got you some food." Cedar watched as the dog raised its head an inch and sniffed at the rabbit. Then, he reached out a paw and drew it closer, beginning to rip at its fur and chew the flesh beneath. The hound must have been very hungry, for he managed to eat the whole thing.
"Thanks…uh…who are you?" the hound looked up at Cedar, and suddenly, his eyes grew wide. "Wait…you're not a dog…you're a…what are you?"
"I'm a fox." Cedar cocked his head. "You've never seen one before?"
"Well, no. I've heard of 'em, but never actually seen one…until now." The hound blinked. "But…why would you help me? My kind hunts your kind."
"I know. But…you seem different," Cedar admitted. "Have you hunted a fox before?"
"No." The dog raised himself to a sitting position, and began to sniff at Cedar, who backed away a little.
"I've hunted badgers, and raccoons, and rabbits…but my old master never took me on a fox hunt, because of, um…personal reasons." The two animals sat in silence for a bit, both feeling awkward. Then Cedar asked, "What happened to you?"
"I…I got sold to a new owner," the dog explained. "My old one gave me away to this horrible man, with a bloodthirsty pack of dogs. He beats them and starves them to keep them in shape…he had his biggest dog attack me for disobeying him. I had to get out of there…but I slipped coming down this slope and didn't have to energy to get out of this ditch. But I think I can now." The hound pulled himself up over the edge, and shook his coat, spraying Cedar with mud.
"Hey!" the fox jumped back.
"Sorry." The hound sat down and began to lick at one of his pads, which was bloody and in tatters.
"Dear god, what happened to your paw?" Cedar asked. He sniffed at it, detecting infection.
"A badger bit it," the hound replied. "Anyways, uh…thanks for the rabbit. Do you have a name?"
"I'm Cedar," the fox introduced himself. "And you are…"
"Harley," said the hound. "Y'know, I've heard a bunch of stories about foxes being nasty little creatures. But you seem pretty decent."
"Of course you'd hear that," Cedar growled. "Humans probably teach you that we're the worst things on earth. Anyways, I have to get going." He stood up, suddenly remembering that he was a fox and this was a hound, and he almost felt as if he'd betrayed his kind by helping one.
But Harley followed him. "Where are you going?" the hound almost sounded sad.
"There have been hunters everywhere lately," Cedar replied. "I'm headed towards the east, where it's safer."
"Well, I just thought…" Harley's voice trailed off.
"You just thought what?"
"Well….my master is probably searching for me with his other dogs. I need to make a move on before they find me. Since you need to be somewhere far away, and I need to be somewhere far away, well…maybe we could stick together for a bit?"
Cedar sighed. "I'm sorry, but if there's hounds after you, I don't want to be around if they find you."
"Well…" said Harley. "Um…you kind of just saved me from going hungry, so I owe you one. If they come after us, I'll fight them off."
Cedar raised his eyebrows. "You seem pretty afraid of them. Are you sure you can take them on?"
"I can at least hold them off." Harley gave an awkward smile.
Every instinct was telling Cedar it was dangerous to stay with this hound, and yet, somehow, he felt Harley could be trusted. After all, his father had been friends with a hound, so why couldn't he?
"Alright," Cedar decided. "But you better keep up with me."
