White
The cuffs around my wrists were special. They looked handsome, I considered, as I glanced up at the deep raven black leather that pressed over my white fur. My arms were held fast above my head, tied to a hook in the roof with the help of some snow...
Lucky
Jasper was wearing the body of one of the foxes. That was, at least, the way he thought of it - even though it was likely to be a permanent change. Until yesterday he had been known as Tim Mitchells. Almost nobody knew who he was, now. The _fox_known...