[Fae]

Scared. Terrified.

Hurt.

Angry. So so angry.

The mission was a success in a failure. She made it out, only because others had fallen. A leader lost beneath ice, chased by a monster. His life served as nothing more than a distraction, in his last moments all he did was draw attention away so a few slaves could run, so they could save themselves. He fell, and so did Arcana. Both drowned with monsters.

She returned to the crater, shaking and terrified, hoping to find home, safety with what bretheren may remain, but instead she found wolves. They were always surrounded by beasts, and now her people offered themselves to them, joined them arm in arm. When faced with loss they sought the same creatures that tore her and the others away from their home. She was disgusted. She was horrified. She fled.

There was no where to run to now, there was no safe haven left, everywhere one might turn there were monsters, hoardes of them, ready and waiting to take advantage of small and helpless creatures. The Straits were no friend to the foxes, not in groups, not in pairs and most certainly not alone.

She'd been capable once, formidable even. Where had that vixen gone? Lost to the fruitless hopes of what that damned and abandoned crater was meant to be. Childish dreams had dragged her down from a cunning force to be reckoned with, to a sniffling girl with a heart too big for her own good. No family, no lover, no home with a happily ever after. Because she'd grown soft. Her best successes came with a bite. To survive she had to take, not to wait for things to fall perfectly into place. Waiting to be given a home, waiting to be rescued.

Arcana was long gone, and there was no time for her to be the shaking and terrified whelp, running scared. Steeling her nerves, she pushed forward, and took from the land that tried so hard to take from her. She found herself again, and would find survival with only the like-minded. She needed not the handouts of a horrid beast, but the familiarity of her kind. Fae would take her hurt, her anger, and begin again. She'd use that fire.

She'd search for them, call out to them in the early morning to the dead of night. Foxes, familiar and new.

Come to me.

Strangers. Arcanans. They did it all wrong. We are strongest together, but only if we fight like foxes.

Profile

[Vixxie]

Despite being aged, her movements remained ribbon-like. Rippling quickly and gracefully, each step a bounce, each turn a flick. Her tail imitating her rhythm. Keeping her composure was important, had she carried herself similarly to the way that she felt, she'd be targeted. A sure snack.

Because really, she felt weak. Empty and broken. Defeated. She didn't want to prance through these woods, she wanted to drag her feet or not move at all. But she had an image to maintain, and because she was resilient, she'd do it. It was her leadership qualities that she obtained during her years as Chieftess that were keeping her alive today.

As she ricocheted through the woods, she picked up on a familiar smell. Fox. It was distinctive, and for obvious reasons she had a keen sense for it, and a clear attraction to it. Her direction shifted ever so slightly, now putting her on the path towards the fellow vixen. Her interest was peaked. She didn't know this fox, she knew already, but perhaps they knew of her.

She closed in on the female quickly, giving a stealthy-cat-like arrival as she leapt into the clearing; right behind her comrade. "My sweet." She began, endearingly. She couldn't help it, she yearned for a fox-kin for the last few years. Where have you been hiding? "Your eyes are so sad, but I sense a strong will to fight back whatever has defeated your spirit." She stepped closer, her tail becoming a wisp behind her like smoke. "Tell me, what happened?" If you tell me your sorrows, I'll tell you mine.

"I am Vixxie, former Chieftess of the Featherfur Fox Crater." She finished with a noble-tone, just to get the formalities out of the way.

[Juniper Tree]

Character Profile Speech Hex Code

She trotted with complete lack of purpose, her tail swishing and her ears swaying back and forth as her head dipped to either side. Her coat was beginning to lighten for winter, the red 'flowers' as she called them fading, dying; the grey became white, the blue changing from a deep navy to more like the sky. By the time snow began to fall, it would be paler still, pastel even. But it wasn't there yet. The vines winding up her legs would not change, though. They simply lost their beautiful red buds. She did not mind; truth be told, she favored her winter coat, the thicker arctic fur known for her breed, as she favored the cooler weather it accompanied. But as with the flowers on her fur, she did mourn the loss of wildflowers as the weather turned.

And then a sound sent her nearly tripping over herself. It was a call that only a fox could make. A sharp yelping bark of sorts, not that of those domesticate wolves the two legs called dogs, although it was more similar to them than the actual wolves. There was pain lanced through it and it lassoed her very instincts, summoned her in a way she had no chance of fighting. Her legs began to move without her consent.

She broke through the foliage around her, she tumbled once more, rolling until her light fur was dusted with brown dirt, making her closer in color to the two females before her. There was the red one, her pelt like a small blaze in the clearing. Her very presence was somehow warming despite the sorrow painted on her face. The other was older, black and brown, concern coming off her in waves. Juni could smell the sadness in the clearing, it nearly drowned her. Her mind swirled, dizzy, as she stood and shook her coat off, revealing its true color. Grey fur lifted into the air around her, shedding more of the summer coat in favor of its lighter side. She coughed a little as she inhaled the dust and fur cloud before it settled on the ground around her. Her anxiety, her deep shyness, set in like a punch in the gut as she choked on her attempt to greet them, instead dipping her head in a salutary nod.

[Zippo]

The day's journey was coming close to an end, Zippo figured. He could tell by the way his paws protested his steps. A little more discomfort each time. He didn't mind it, honestly. The travel was what he lived for these days. Endless horizons. Endless opportunities. Endless--

His head cocked sharply to the right and his nose touched the air. Foxes?

So many different scents! None seemed related at all. At least one was a vixen, he guessed, by the sweet undertones the wind carried. That was reason enough to check out the scene. He picked up the pace, forgoing his plans to rest in lieu of this new discovery. As he traveled through the cover, the scents became clearer, until he could pick out three individuals. Before he had time to process each one, he slowed to a stop, because he could see them plain as day ahead.

One, the color of snow and sky, smaller than the others. Two red and black vixens, oh lovely creatures. One looked mournful. The other seemed to be trying to comfort the first.

He decided to approach the arctic fox first.

"There some kind of thing going on here, snow foot?" He rolled smoothly, his heavily accented voice giving away just how very foreign he was to these lands. He sat a polite distance from the others, directing himself to the snowy fox, not knowing who the true ring leader of this assortment would turn out to be...

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[Sebastian]

Sebastian didn't really have much to worry about, as far as life went. Well, not anything outside the usual, of course. Eagles still had him retreating to the safety of nearby leafcover, he was wary of wolves and lions and the like. Prey was not particularly hard to find; the lands were lush and overflowing with bounty. He hardly had to do any real work at all to survive.

But surviving wasn't living, was it?

He was lonely, though he'd hardly admit it to anyone else. Seb's interactions with other foxes had been fleeting at best, ever since he'd been left by his mother as a rowdy teen. He didn't feel the same drive for mating and kits that others seemed to strive towards, but he definitely felt the need for companionship tugging at him hard.

It was no surprise, then, when his paws led him to a little gathering of foxes. Everyone seemed so... downtrodden. He put on his most charming smile, walking up to them with a bravado that was mostly false, "Hey there," He greeted, green eyes twinkling, "Why's everyone look so down?"

He waited a moment for his question to be answered, then continued sincerely, "Anything I can do to help?"

[Thor]

Character Profile #9d0000

Blue paws made no imprint, no sound, as they trotted across the ground. Yellow and orange leaves bent but did not break under the tiny creature. His ears flipped around, taking in the sounds of the forest; goose crowed above as they traveled south to flee the onset of cold. Squirrels frantically gathered the last of their winter food, shoving acorns and the like into their cheeks as food was growing more scarce. To be true, he was saddened by the loss of the season of berries... there were still some in bloom but with every day drawing closer to winter, their numbers grew smaller. The season of true hunting was arriving. Soon, the only thing to do would be to search for mice and bugs sheltered in the trees.

Or steal. He was ever so fond of stealing. The rope that hung around his neck, baring his treasured gold paw, proved this more than anything else. It was the first thing he ever stole. He was nearly caught, a burly human chased him with a huge knife, but he managed to escape just as the knife was coming down, slipping between roots into an abandoned rabbit den. The tiny red gem claws of the necklace glittered in the sun now as it bounced against his chest. Many other items had come through his paws, but most had been long traded. Being the smallest predator in the forest did not come easily and he often traded his belongings for safety. But this necklace, it would never leave him.

His thoughts were interrupted by an awful keening scream, a fox in the distance. His curiosity peaked, he'd met foxes before occasionally but usually interacted with wolves, who could provide better protection against larger predators and humans. But maybe if this fox needed help, there would be something in it for him? Besides, it never hurt to have an extra friend. With a nod to himself, he headed in that direction.

When he arrived, he saw he was not the only one to appear. It was a summons, not a cry for help. Two females and a male whose pelts reminded him of autumn, a pale female who could only be an arctic fox, and a dark male with frosty white markings. All were larger than him except the arctic. She seemed unnaturally small. He crept forward, making himself noticeable but skirting the edges so as to make a swift escape if need be. While the others spoke, he remained silent, learning instead what the others had to say first.