A/U: Hiyo! I'm not dead! Just busy. I just started going back to school a few weeks back and spend a lot of time drawing (when not doing HW or at work) that I don't get motivated enough to write sometimes. But I wanted to get this one finished since it's been sitting around for awhile. I also kept making it longer everytime I sat down to write, oops. It's another dark one in a sense, but no where near as dark as my 'infamous' second chapter as I like to call it. I also apparently like putting my OC's through a lot. Well, anyways, hope you guys enjoy this!

Trapped

"Is ya sho' we should be doin' dis? I mean, I'se be a'ight widout my ball."

"You done said dat yer Pa ain't gunna git ya any mo', right?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"Den we'se gunna git yer ball! We'se made a promise afta' all!" Farryn whispered loudly for both of her friends to hear. She didn't want to alert anyone to their, admittedly, very stupid plan.

Earlier today, the three were playing baseball in a field away from all the critter homes, where they couldn't break any windows. They had been really unlucky with that the past several times they played; they would usually end up getting chased off by the owner of the house whose window they just accidently broke. So, this time, they made a rule that any balls that went past the giant oak tree had to be retrieved by whoever hit it. It was a fair rule, one that had been working for most of the time. Until it was her last time up to bat.

She had hit a homerun, a grand one too. It had soared way passed the tree over a wooden fence that sat on the edge of the field. Slightly annoyed that she was going to have to climb a fence, she started to head towards it when Junior grabbed her shoulder.

"Farryn, what is ya doin'?"

"Uh, goin' t' git yer ball. Dat's our rule, 'member?"

"But you can't go in dat yard. Dat's de Russell brothers' yard", Rya said, joining in.

"Russell brothers?" She asked, scratching her head. She had never heard of them before. She'd heard of Mr. Man. He lived on the edge of town, just on the edge of where the humans lived and grew some of the most delicious vegetables she'd ever tasted. He was known to chase critters off his yard, her father a frequent trespasser, and threaten to shoot them. He was a terrible shot for all she knew.

"Ya mean yer Pa ain't tol' ya 'bout de Russell brothers"? She shook her head.

"De Russell brothers' are de meanest 'n' nastiest people 'round 'ere. E'en meaner den yer Pa. Dey sets all kinda traps in their garden; real awful ones too. But dat ain't de wurst o' it. Dere's a rumor dat any critter dat gets caught by dem is neva' seen agin. Dey say dat he skins critters 'n' sells 'em t' one o' dem furriers. "

Farryn waved her hand down in front of her friends' face.

"Ain't nuthin' but a silly ol' rumor, Rya! Ain't ya learned dat ya can't believe e'erythan' ya hear?"

Glancing up at the fence while the story was still fresh in her mind, she gulped and decided to think this one over for once.

"B-but, I-I'se tell ya what," she said to her friends, trying hard to hide her stutter so they wouldn't know that she was starting to become scared. "If'n ya'll is scared, den how 'bout we'se come back t'night unner de cover o' d-dark? W-we'se kin be all sneaky-like 'n' quiet t' git de ball 'n' be gone 'fore de farmers knows we'se e'en d-dere!"

Her friends glanced towards each other, before shrugging and reluctantly agreeing that coming back at night would be the best option-even if the idea of sneaking into the yard in the first place was beyond crazy. They went their separate ways, agreeing to meet up outside the fence at midnight; a time when surely the two brothers would be asleep.

Of course, sneaking out of Chick-A-Pin Hill wasn't exactly an easy task. The front door still squeaked after all these years and she wasn't sure if she could squeeze out the top of the log like she did five years ago. But it was her idea; she HAD to be there. She quietly climbed up the log, wincing when it creaked ever so slightly. Luckily, her father was a heavy sleeper. She still managed to squeeze out of the log, getting stuck slightly when she tried to pull her bottom half up. She finally managed to slip out of it and dropped down onto the ground before running in the direction towards the farm.

Her friends were already waiting when she got there, ready as they will ever be to enter such a place. After searching the perimeter, they quickly found a small hole in the fence. The had a quick discussion and decided that Farryn and Rya should be the two to go inside and retrieve the ball, while Junior would wait outside and keep watch, being much bigger than both the girls.

Using only the light of the moon, they crawled around quietly, using sticks to poke out in front of them so they wouldn't be caught off guard should there really be traps scattered about the yard. And indeed there were some; they caught a few of them glistening in the light. Giving each other worried looks, they decided to hurry along.

After crawling about halfway through the yard, she heard her best friend whisper loudly.

"Ah thinks I found it!" Farryn looked up to see that, sure enough, Rya had found the ball and was holding up it for her to see.

"Great! Now let's git outta 'ere. I'se startin' t' git da creeps."

As they turned back around, Farryn felt her leg brush against something cold and hard. Before she could react, it closed against her leg, grasping her and digging its' sharp, metal teeth into her skin. The sudden rush of pain caused her to yell out, alerting both her friends and the humans in the house.

"What?! What 'appened?!" Rya whispered to her, a worried look on her face.

"I'se stuck! Mah paw is caught in somethin'! I can't move!" The rabbit crawled quickly back towards her and, grabbing her arm, tried to pull her in the direction of the hole, only stopping when a bright light shone in their direction. Standing in the light was not one, but two dark shadowy figures.

"D-Don' worry Farryn! I-I'se almost gots ya out! W-we'se gonna git outta 'ere!" The rabbit sputtered, still trying to pull the young fox free from the trap, seemingly oblivious to the pain it was causing her. Farryn squinted up towards the light and thought the two dark figures were moving towards them. Actually, they WERE moving towards them. And from the glints she could see in their hands, she guessed they weren't coming over for a party.

"R-Rya, you'se needs t' git outta 'ere!"

"W-what? I-I can't jest leave ya 'ere!"

"I can't move! Y-you can! You 'n' J-Junior kin go 'n' git halp!"

"Is you done l-lost yer thinker? If'n I leave ya 'ere, y-you ain't e'er gunna be seed agin!"

"Rya, if'n you'se s-stays 'ere, we'se b-both gunna git c-caught 'n' den who gunna h-halp us in time?" Farryn asked, turning to look back at the shadows that were now getting closer to the two children. If her friend didn't leave, she was surely going to be seen. Or worse.

"F-Farryn I can't-"

"Go Mariah! Now!" She whispered to the other child harsh enough, and using her full name, that it startled her. Rya looked towards the direction of where the humans were coming from before looking back at her friend once more. Realizing there wasn't anything else to do, she turned towards the exit and hopped away as quickly and quietly as she could, not bothering to turn around until she was safely outside of the hole. Farryn could just barely make out her and Junior's face from the opposite side.

"Well, well, well, Ricky! Lookie what we done caught in our traps 'ere! A tricky fox!"

"Sho' does look like it, Dil! Guess dey ain't so smart after all huh?"

Farryn turned towards where she heard the two voices and immediately felt her ears press back, something she only did when she was really worried. Standing before her were two tall, humans. They looked as scraggly as she could've imagine; ripped clothes, missing buttons, patches on their pants, smelling of beer and smoke, and messy hair sticking out from all parts of their straw hats. She wanted to move, but was frozen in place, from fear. Not that she could move anyways.

"Looks like it's a young'un Ricky. 'N' look at its fur! Nice 'n' purty colors. Bet we gonna make a few bucks on 'er eh?"

"I reckon so. Dose furriers pay lots fer a nice fox fur."

Furriers? Weren't those the humans that sold fur of critters to other humans? Wore their skins as coats, gloves, hats, and whatever else humans wore? She was pretty sure her dad mentioned meeting a furrier once a long time ago. He apparently ran off before anything could happen.

"We'se betta' gits it inside so's nuthin' ruins 'er fur by de mawnin'", said the taller of the two, Ricky she thought, but she didn't really bother to know which one was which.

"Why wait until de mo'nin? Let's jest get started on it now" the other said, suddenly placing the glint she saw earlier, a gun, against her head. She made a small sound and closed her eyes, preparing for the worst when she felt it be slapped away.

"You'se a nitwit, ya know dat? We need de sunlight in order t' see what we'se doin' 'n' if ya kill 'er now, she'll be all stiff by de mawnin' Let's jest git 'er in de cage."

Not liking the sound of that at all, Farryn tried to run her mind with options of what to do before she was suddenly jerked up by the scruff of her neck. She flinched when she felt pain in her leg as it was stretched out as far as it could go, being restricted by the trap still on it.

"Oh, dis one has sum soft fur!" She felt one of them touch her leg and grab the bottom of her dress. She kicked his hand away with her free leg and snapped at him, missing entirely, and sent the worst glare she could muster at him.

"Looks like we'se got a feisty one 'ere huh? Git de muzzle Dil. Don' wanna risk gettin' bit by it."

Muzzle? What did 'e mean by- her thoughts were cut off when a cold, metal contraption was suddenly clamped over her mouth. She tried to fight it but her arms were held by the taller of the two men. Still fighting the best she could manage despite her restrictions, she could feel this contraption be pulled as tight as it could, almost cutting off her breath, before feeling it be buckled behind her head. Her captor squeezed her arms when she tried to pull them out of his grasp, while the one who muzzled her began to tightly tie them with rope.

"Dese livin' foxes is always such a hassle Ricky. Dey always needin' t' be tied up 'n' muzzled. Don' know why we'se bother tryin' t' ketch 'em."

"A fox is a fox ya numbskull, no matter if dey's one o' dese livin' ones o' a normal one. 'N' right now, we'se needs' all de money we kin git. Come on. Let's git 'er in de cage."

Feeling something on her trapped foot, she glanced to see that one of the humans was unhooking the trap and she was able to get a good look at her leg for the first time. And it was in terrible shape. Her foot was bent slightly, there was some fur missing, revealing her pale skin underneath, and there was blood. Lots of blood. Both on her leg and on the trap. She couldn't feel her foot at all and when she tried to move it; nothing happened. Not a kick, swing, jerk, twitch. Nothing.

She glanced up to where the hole in the fence was, hoping to take some comfort in her friends still being there, coming up with a plan to spring her free, maybe some revenge on these two, and escape back home before anyone would notice they were gone. Sure, her leg wasn't in the best of shapes, but it could easily be fixed with a bandage and….and some paint to cover it… and… and…..

And nothing. She couldn't see anything through the hole. Nothing but darkness. Did her best friends leave her? Decide they didn't want to attempt something so risky and get caught themselves? She wouldn't blame them if that's what they did. But, surely they wouldn't have left! Maybe she couldn't see them? Or maybe they already had a plan and were quickly gathering the supplies they needed for the plan to work? Yeah, that was it. It had to be.

As she was carried into the house, she looked around and the first things she noticed were the various knives, axes, and other sharp instruments that were mounted up on the wall. She felt a shiver go down her spine. It wasn't from the instruments themselves; she was used to seeing such weapons back home and never had an issue with them. It was from the hides that lay out on the table. All from different animals; skunks, coons, squirrels, rabbits and what appeared to be pieces of clothing from the unfortunate critters that happened to get caught in their traps. The very same traps that had managed to catch her. And she was being shown what her fate was going to be.

She tried to fight the best she could, but with only one limb free for fighting, there wasn't much that it could do. In the midst of her struggle, she failed to see to that she was heading towards a cage before being thrown into it rather harshly. She readjusted her position, with difficulty, and turned to look out the bars where she could see her captors locking the door and mumbling to themselves.

"If'n we'se jest git rid o' 'er now, it wouldn' be fightin' us."

"Can't git outta 'em restraints. 'Sides, you see its' leg? It ain't gunna 'ave much strength t' fight by de mo'nin'. Too much blood will be gone. Now, let's git some rest 'fore de sun comes up."

With that, they walked out of the room, slamming the door behind them. Farryn starting crying tears she didn't know she was holding back. She couldn't free herself from these tight restraints. And if she could, she wouldn't manage to get very far with her leg in the shape it was in. And there was always the possibility that she might walk into another trap out in the yard. What would happen then if both of her legs didn't work? Would she bleed out and slowly die? The taller human said she would lose quite a bit of blood by morning. Could she stop it? Maybe, if her hands weren't tied. And it was such a tight squeeze anyways; it didn't give her much room to work with. And what could she use for a bandage? Her hair bow?

She couldn't do anything. Every single idea she thought of, there was some kind of reason why it wouldn't work. She had thought of every possibility she had ever been taught, every trick or scheme in the book to escape. Nothing.

She was trapped.

Her tears started falling faster and she could feel her shoulders beginning to shake. She was going to die. All because she didn't listen to the rumors her friends had told her earlier. Even with being extra careful with all the traps around, she still somehow managed to get caught in one. How could she be so stupid?

M-Mama. P-Papa.

She started crying harder now, gasps coming in between her wails. She was never going to see them again. And they might not ever know what happened to her. They would be inconsolable and it would be all her fault. She couldn't even tell them goodbye or that she loved them. She would just be gone.

As the night wore, so did the crying. Eventually, from a combination of loss of blood from her gash and using what little energy she had left on crying, Farryn passed out in her prison, hands still tied, snout still clamped shut, and blood still slowly coming out of her open wound.

~XXXX~

Farryn was awoken by the sound of something crunching near her. She had no idea what time it was, if it was still night or the morning, or even if she still inside her cage she was so roughly thrown into earlier. But she was too afraid to open her eyes and see for herself. She was afraid that if she did, it would be the end.

Her ears picked up a few recognizable sounds; the sound of a gentle breeze rustling the leaves on a tree, the noises from the bugs that came out, and what sounded like water flowing, all indicators that she was outside. She started to get worried now. Were they going to drown her? That was her absolute worst fear.

Out of habit, she squeezed her hands tightly, only to feel something gripped in between them. It felt scratchy, like an old, worn shirt. And it had a familiar scent to it. One that smelled of sweat, cigar smoke, and familiar spices she often smelled in her own kitchen. She'd recognize that smell anywhere. It was one she had been around her whole life. But was it actually him? Did he save her? Or was it just her mind playing tricks on her, trying to make her think she was safe and get her to open her eyes, only to see that she was still in that hellish place? She didn't want to open her eyes. She still too scared. But, she just had to. She had to know what it was that she was holding, if it was real or if it was just a trick her mind was playing on her. Pushing down her fears, she slowing opened them.

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes, was the sky. It was very early morning; she could see the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon, giving the sky that pinkish glow it often did at that time. Just out of the corner of her eye, she caught her foot. It was still a mangled mess and she still couldn't move it, but something looked different about it. It was still very much covered in blood, but as her eyes adjusted, she could see that it was wrapped in a blood-stained dark green piece of cloth.

Straining her head to look up, she was finally able to see who it was that was carrying her: her father. He was looking straight ahead, seemingly in a hurry somewhere, with a determined look on his face. He had sweat dripping from his brow, but she didn't know if that was from the humidity that often hung in the summer air or if it was from him hurrying to get her out. Whatever the reason, she didn't care. She was just happy that she was no longer in the cage, no longer restrained, and that she wouldn't die today.

"Papa?" She said, her voice hoarse from all the crying she had done earlier. She hadn't even realized that monstrous contraption was taken off her muzzle. She felt his grip tighten on her before he looked down at her, his eyes wide with surprise. "Papa, where-"

"De doctors'. Need t' git dat leg o' yours' fixed up right quick."

"But how-"

"Dat ain't 'portant right now."

She laid her head against his chest, wanting to cry again, but her eyes were dry. He was being rather curt with her. Was he just upset about the situation she was in? Or was he trying to tell her that he was upset that he had to, yet again, get her out of something stupid she had done? Wouldn't be any different from any other time. Except this one was in the middle of the night.

"Papa, I'se sorry-"

"I'll deal wid dat lata'. Right now, I jest need ya t' stay awake fer me. Can ya do dat?" Weakly, Farryn nodded her head. She could certainly try, but there was no guarantee. She was already starting to lose her vision again. She tried to fight the unconsciousness that was starting to overtake her, but she couldn't win against it, hearing him call her name with distress starting to show in his voice.

~XXXX~

Farryn was lying in her bed, pillows propped up behind her, and looking at her foot. It was wrapped with several layers of bandages and wrapped over two thin pieces of wood that lay on either side of her leg. It was instructed that she remain on bed rest for at least a week before she be allowed to walk around again. Not that it would be any better; the cast was to remain on her leg for at least four weeks. And she was going to have to use crutches until the cast was taken off. She'd only been on bed rest for a day and a half and she was already hating it.

After she had passed out again the day before, she was awoken by a quick sharp pain in her leg that caused her to yell out. When she opened her eyes, she found her vision blurry, but she still could hear voices, one of which she vaguely recognized said 'Sorry. I thought you were out pretty good.' She continued to try to focus her sight on where the voice was coming from before she started feeling small, sharp pricks on her foot.

When her vision was finally clear enough, she could see that she was on the table at the doctors' office; he had just finished sewing up her wound and was beginning to wrap it. She watched as the crane walked over to his counter before turning back to her with a syringe in his hand. Upon seeing this, she tried to get away the best she could but two hands kept her down, telling her that it was going to help with the pain. She didn't care; that needle was bigger than the one used the last time she got a shot.

But, being weak at that moment and injured, she couldn't do much else except look away and yelp when the needle was inserted into her skin.

She was brought back to reality when she heard her bedroom door open. Br'er Fox entered, carrying a syringe of a clear liquid-morphine, she thought she had heard them say-and a wrap, all with a rather stoic expression on his face. Her father had been instructed to change the wrappings every few days, letting the wound get some air as he did so. He was also to give her a shot of the pain killer every day for at least a week and see how her pain was doing afterwards.

He didn't say anything as he sat on the edge of her bed and began to undo her bandages. He hadn't said much to her since he rescued her. Sometimes she could figure him out, see if there was a particular reason he was acting a certain way. But here, after running everything through her mind, she couldn't figure him out at all. And she was slightly worried about straight up asking him. He'd been known to change demeanors at the snap of a finger if he didn't like an answer or a question. But she was going to have to ask him sooner or later, especially if she was stuck in the house for a while.

"I don' wanna git my shot."

"Doc's orders," he said without looking up from the syringe. "Sides, it halps wid de pain."

"But it don' hurt." His expression didn't change, instead raising an eyebrow. Her ear had twitched, indicating her lie. "Well, maybe a lil'. But it ain't so bad!"

"Really now?" He asked as he moved her leg slightly so he could sit down. Farryn tried her hardest not to, but she winced, showing that she was lying again. Not saying anything else, she instead closed her eyes, flinching and squeezing her plush when she felt the needle go into her leg. She opened her eyes again when she felt him rub the spot slightly and saw him stand back, beginning to gather the used bandages and leave the room.

"I'se sorry, Papa." She watched as he stopped in the doorway, sighing heavily. Which wasn't a good sign. It usually meant she was going to get a lecture or something of the like from him.

"What in Sam's Hill was you thinkin' goin' in t' dat place fo'? Ya oughta know betta den dat! Ain't no one e'er come outta dere alive! What could possibly make ya wantin' t' go in dere?!"

"I-I was tryin' t' git back Junior's ball 'n' –"

"A ball? You went inta dat hellish place fo' a ball? Somethan' dat coulda been replaced easily? Dat's jest gotta be 'bout de dumbest thang I e'er heard of!

"I had t'! We promised t' get any balls dat went past de giant oak! 'N' ya can't break promises!"

"Oh really now? 'Cause ya sho' done broke yo' promise 'bout runnin' away when I saw dat you wasn' in yer bed!"

"I didn' run away! I snuck out!" she corrected, knowing that wasn't going to help calm him down. It was probably just as bad as running off. Maybe worse. And indeed, he was watching her with a glare and opened his mouth to say something but she interrupted him.

"We had t' go afta' dark! 'N' I knew dat you wouldn' let me go if'n I asked ya!"

"I sho' as hell wouldn' 'ave! Ain't I told ya dat you can neva' go t' dat place?"

"N-no. You haven'." He continued to glare at her, seemingly looking at her ears, to see if she was telling the truth or not. But this time she was. She would've remembered if he had ever said anything about such a place. She certainly wouldn't have gone if he, out of all creatures, the one that didn't necessarily care what kind of mischief she got into, him, who wasn't scared of anything, had told her to NEVER go there. She would've listened to him, for once.

He seemed to be thinking about something. His face was scrunched in concentration and he was looking down at the ground. Probably thinking of what punishment would be sufficient enough she supposed. He sighed again, but continued looking at the ground.

"I didn' mean t' make ya mad. I jest-"

"Well ya did a good job o' dat haven' ya!" He sighed heavily again, rubbing his temples with his fingers. She hadn't seen him this upset since that time when she was about 2 and accidently let Br'er Rabbit go. It was a memory that was often buried way in the back of her mind, but she still remembered it pretty good. She remembered being terrified and how frightening he was then. And now, almost 8 years later, he looked like he was on the verge of becoming frightening once again. And this time, she couldn't move.

"I ain't mad at you. I'se jest upset o'er de awful sitiation. What if yo' lil' friend had gotten caught too? What if dose humans 'ad decided t' go 'head wid dere plan dat night instead a waitin'? What if I 'ad gotten caught? T'was a ver' real possibility ya knows dat! How do ya think I woulda felt if'n I didn' get dere in time? O' yer Mama? Didya think 'bout any o' dat?!"

She felt herself start crying when he mentioned themselves. She had indeed thought about her parents. Several times. She thought it was over, that she would never see them again, and she had practically accepted that. She was lucky; VERY lucky. She knew that and she was forever grateful that she did have another chance to see them again. Still, the idea of thinking about that again was enough to cause her cry.

"I-I did think 'bout 'cha. Lotsa times!", she managed to say in between her tears. " I n-neva' thought dat I w-would see ya e'er agin. 'N' I couldn' halp but know d-dat you'd both be upset o'er de whole t-thang." His face seemed to soften a little upon hearing this. She wiped away her tears harshly, angry at herself for crying.

"Farryn", he sighed, moving her leg gently so as not to hurt her and sitting next to her. "I ain't upset at you. I was at furst. Yo' lil' friend was knocking on de door at some ungodly hour, shouting some nonsense, I 'ad half a mind t' snatch 'er up right den 'n' dere." She watched him with a slightly stunned expression. He just admitted to her that he was very close to eating her best friend, in spite of their promise. Not that it should surprise her really. Still, it was a little jarring to hear.

"I decided t' see what she wanted furst. She was as frantic as all get out, sayin' somethan' 'bout how you been caught o' sumthan'. I didn' believe 'er at furst, a co'se, but she kept 'sistin' dat she weren' lyin'. Wantin' 'er t' shut up, I finally checked yo' room 'n' saw dat you wasn' in bed."

"So you was mad?"

"At dat point, yeah. I was mad dat you 'ad snuck out fo' whate'er reason in de middle o' de night. Thought dat you 'ad run off o' sumthin'. But den, I'se started gettin' a bad feelin' in mah stomach. A feelin' dat I hadn' felt since dat time ya took off in de snowstorm. Ah learned neva t' ignore dat feelin', so I followed yer lil' friend t' where she said you was at."

"How'd ya git me outta dere?", she asked him, as he continued to look at her injured leg.

"Quietly. As quietly as I possibly could. 'N' quickly. Who knew if dose two foos' gunna change dere mind at any second. Den I saw you in dat cage dere wid dat….thang on yer mouth 'n' you all tied up 'n' I thought dat I was too late. I thought dat you was already gone."

Farryn simply looked him, an unsettled expression on her face. Her father was never one to stray from his usual personality. It made him all soft and wimpy or something like that. So he told her anyways. It was faint, but she could just barely hear a hint of worry in his voice, despite the fact she was safe and sound.

"Whether o' not you was gone, I couldn' jest leave ya dere. So's I got you outta dere 'n' got dose restraints off a ya. Started takin' ya t' de doctors, when you came t'. I'se so relieved. Dat's why I kept askin' ya t' stay awake fo' me. So's I could know dat you was gunna be a'ight. I couldn' git ya t' wake a'gin 'n' I'se neva felt so scared in my life."

"Scared? You? But you ain't scared o' nuthin'!" He let out a small chuckle at her statement. She didn't see what was so funny about it.

"A co'se I'se 'fraid o' sumthan'. I jest don' e'er show it ." He went quiet for a minute before speaking again, looking at her finally. "Know what I'se scared of?" She shook her head, curious as to what could be so terrifying that it frightened her father, of all critters, real bad.

"You." She looked at him, brow furrowed slightly. Did she hear him right? Did he say her? She scared him? How? She was just a little girl! She liked to think that she was scary and tough when need be, but he had pointed out several times how 'un-scary' she was. Why would he say such a thing then? Was he just messing with her this whole time?

"Me?"

"Yes 'm. I used t' think dat nuthin' would ever scare me. 'N' yet, dere were two times dat I was mo' 'fraid dan I e'er thought possible. De other' night 'n' dat time I saw ya clingin' on t' de ice, barely able t' hol' on."

She continued to stare at him for a few moments before focusing on the chair in the corner, running several thoughts through her head. She never realized how much she, a child, terrified her father, the meanest, nastiest, and smartest of them all. He never once let on.

"Mebbe I didn' tell ya nuthin' 'bout dat place", he said turning to look back at the door again. " I figgered dat if'n I neva' tol' ya 'bout it, you wouldn' go off tryin' t' see what twas all 'bout. E'ery other' time ah tol' ya not t' do somethin', ya always did anyways."

"I wouldn' 'ave gone if ya had tol' me 'bout it!" she said, looking back up at him You ain't neva tol' me 'bout a place ah could neva' go t' befo'."

"Dat's cause dis place is diff'rent. Although, you already learned dat de hard way." He said looking down at her leg. Farryn glanced down at it too. It looked a little better than before. The wound still looked gross, but at least it was no longer bleeding, having several stitches up on her foot. She would have a hairless patch on her leg for a while too, but that was the least of her issues. At least she was starting to get some feeling back.

"I'se sorry Papa. Fo' scarin' you," she said once again. She really was sorry about the whole thing, even before she found out how much it worried him. And she wanted him to know that she meant it. She never wanted to go through anything like it ever again. "Ah promise I won' do anythan' foo'ish like dat e'er agin!"

"I believe ya. If'n dat don' convince ya, I don' know what will," he said gesturing to her leg as he stood, collecting the old wraps again, and walking to the door. "Git some rest. I'se be back inna hour t' rewrap it."

"Does…does dis mean I ain't in trouble?" She asked cautiously, unsure what he would say to the change in conversation. She was genuinely curious if she would be in trouble. She deserved it, after all, for the danger she put not just herself, but everyone else in. Including him. But she didn't really want to be grounded; she already had to be stuck in the house for a week anyways. Any longer and she might go stir crazy. More so than she already was, actually.

He turned back towards her and looked at her leg once more. "I done think ya learned yer lesson frum dis."

"Yes suh, I 'ave."

" 'N' you'se already stuck 'ere fo' a while. So's I ain't gunna ground ya."

"No?"

"But you'se gunna 'ave an earlier curfew fo' a while. 'N' you ain't gunna be wanderin' 'round anywhere past town, ya hear?" Farryn pouted slightly. She took that back; she'd rather be grounded. There was nothing fun to do in town! Everything there was to do was outside of town! She doubted her friends would want to hang around while they got to go and have fun somewhere-

She looked up when Br'er Fox cleared his throat, an eyebrow curiously cocked. She got the hint immediately.

"Ya unnerstand?" He asked once again, his voice stern once again.

"Yes Papa. I unnerstand."

With a nod, he left her room, leaving her once again to her own thoughts. Stretching her arms and yawning, she decided she'd done enough thinking today. Cuddling with her plush and bringing the blanket closer to her, a small smile spread across her face, knowing that it wouldn't be the last time she went to sleep, that she would wake up safe and sound in her bed, and that she would have one hell of a story to tell the others once she was better.