Hola!
I wish I could tell you I now have a fantastic new name for this series, but alas, I still don’t have anything. I suppose that’s the beauty of serialised fiction. This is truly a story still in progress!
In any case, we have Frank the fox joining the fray this chapter. 🦊
Here are some links to the rest of the series:
If you’re new here, I hope you stick around!
Now for today’s new chapter.
The fox silently entered the forest opening like a slick flick of flame being dropped off by a gentle breeze. His fur was pristine and remarkably healthy, catching a glisten from the moonlight.
Off to the side, he stood by invisibly while the fruit bat and the guinea pig bickered and babbled about who knows what.
Much like the critters before him, Frank the fox had also spent a long chunk of the day searching the forest for some morsel of food to feast on. Like them, he also had an empty stomach that was becoming increasingly frustrated with him as the day (and days) went on.
His meals that week had been meek and few and far between. The menu was as follows: Two wriggly worms he had picked out of a plot of dirt. An hour of licking a particularly slimy piece of mossy rock. A pawful of red berries that ended up giving him a tummy ache. And then, finally, the last bits of a leftover fish carcass he had found by a river.
As he now stood by watching the fruit bat and guinea pig under the moonlight, he felt his mouth begin to salivate.
Meanwhile, back with Bruce and Ginny, they seemed to just finally be sorting things out and settling down. Bruce was even talking about becoming friends.
It was then that the prowling fox made his move. He pounced from the shadows, going straight for Ginny (the tastier looking critter out of the two of them).
Fortunately, as a fruit bat, Bruce had fantastic hearing. He caught the imperceptible crunch of a leaf as the fox leapt forward and he immediately swung his head to the fox’s direction.
Bruce sprung to action and shoved Ginny out of the way. As she toppled backwards, there was a look of sheer shock and outrage on her little face.
With Bruce now standing in Ginny’s place, the leaping fox slammed into him instead. The frail fruit bat didn’t stand a chance. He was knocked straight back, flat on his back, far clear of his rotten mango platter.
Never mind the guinea pig, Frank gladly adapted and now eyed off the much more exposed fruit bat before him.
Bruce was dazed, his vision wobbly. He looked up as the fox approached, wanting but not able to spring back up. Stuck on the forest floor with a sharp-fanged fox was a fruit bat’s worst nightmare come to life.
Standing up and dusting herself off, Ginny took in the scene around her. She was quick to act (in life, Ginny was always quick to act).
With the fox moving in on the sprawled figure of Bruce on the ground, Ginny made an immediate sprint for his frizzy orange tail.
The fastest guinea pig the forest had ever seen, Ginny darted over and leapt into the air. She latched onto the fox’s tail and bit down with all her might. The fox’s yelp was wretched and ear-piercing.
Frank turned his attention to Ginny, spinning his head to see what had harmed him. Except the pain was ongoing. Ginny’s little fangs were in and she wasn’t letting go.