*YAP* *YAP* *YAP*

"I don't know where the occupant is. The door was unlocked and there were two foxes in the apartment," Miles said into his cell phone, keeping one hand over his free ear. Standing in the doorway, he turned to the screaming fox in the apartment. It had been tangled up in the owner's clothing, and seemed very reluctant to leave the pile while he was standing there.

*Bark!* *Bark!* *BARK!*

"I already called animal control. They said they could be here in a half hour." There was an inaudible reply on the receiver, and then he said "Yeah, I can wait here for the security team."

It had been a long day, and Miles had only just gotten back to his apartment when he thought he heard screaming coming from the floor above him. Crime was very low in this complex, but every now and then, there would be a mishap with a domestic issue or a squatter. Rushing to the source of the noise, he found an unlocked apartment with two foxes in it, and he didn't have to guess at what they were doing alone. So shocked to see wild animals in an apartment, he let one of them rush past him and out the door, even though it was stealing a backpack from the living area. The other fox remained in the middle of the living room in front of the couch and kept making the loudest racket.

Popping open with a light creak, the neighboring suite opened their door and a head peered out. "Sir, can you keep your dog quiet?" the occupant demanded with impatience.

Miles smiled back apologetically, "Sorry, it's not a dog. It's a fox, and I already called animal control to remove it." The neighbor frowned sourly, and closed the door without saying another word. He realized the neighbor was right, the fox was making too much noise for this time of night. Reluctantly, he stepped into the apartment to try to calm the animal.

Slowly approaching the fox, so as to not startle it, he leaned over and opened his arms, palms up, trying to show the fox that he didn't mean it any harm. The fox further flattened itself in fear and tried to back off, but got tangled in the pile of clothes before making it more than a foot back. "Now, now, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," he said softly. The fox seemed to untense a little, but started to yip loudly again.

*BARK!* *BARK!* *BARK!*

Frustrated, Miles stood back up and took a pace backwards. He didn't know what he was doing, and wasn't going to get anywhere with this fox. He would just have to wait for animal control to show up. Just then, there was a light shuffle in the bedroom across the living area. While the apartment was messy, the layout was a mirror image of his own suite. There were plenty of rooms other animals could be hiding, so he decided to check the rest of the flat. Passing through the kitchen, he closed the freezer door which was hanging open, and stepped around a few loose ice cubes from a fallen tray. "Hello?" he called out as he knocked on the wall by the bedroom door. "Anyone here?"

"Meow," said a cream-colored tabby cat that materialized at his feet.

"Uh oh," he said and tried to reach down to pick up the cat. He didn't know if foxes ate cats, but he wasn't going to wait to find out. The cat leaped out of his grasp casually, and sauntered into the Livingroom by the fox. "No! Kitty," Miles called out to the cat as it neared the squeaking fox. Seeing the cat, the fox stopped crying and started to pull itself forward from the pile of clothes. "Shit," he cursed, thinking he was about to see the poor cat get torn to bits. Before he could move forward to stop the cat from reaching the fox, the cat leapt forward and started rubbing and purring against the fox, and the fox, now silent, responded in kind.

Still uneasy about the interspecies affection in front of him, Miles moved back to the front door, just so he wouldn't be caught standing in someone's apartment without them home. Also, he would be within range to intervene if the fox suddenly got a taste for cat. They looked very happy together, though, and the fox had finally relaxed. The two were pretty adorable together, and the fox looked like it was smiling, so Miles decided he may be able to snap a picture for social media. Reaching into his jeans to pull out his phone, he heard a car door shut from down in the parking lot below. The fox's ears perked up immediately, and it fixed its golden eyes on him.

*YAP*

Miles wished he had closed the door to muffle outdoor noises, now that his perfectly adorable picture had been ruined. Regardless, he snapped the picture anyway, just so he'd have something to put on his timeline. The fox looked flustered. Shakily, it stood up and glared at him with its big, golden slitted eyes.

*BARK!*

The clothing it had been wrapped in was finally finding its way loose, and the fox took two menacing steps forward.

*BARK* *BARK!*

The cat scampered off behind the fox, heading towards the bedroom again. Making a deep throaty snarl, the fox lowered its head and slowly advanced on Miles. Feeling like he had done his due diligence, Miles grabbed the door handle and whipped it shut as he exited the apartment, only to find himself face to face with the animal control officers that were coming up the stairs.

Seeing the disturbed look on his face, one of the officers asked, "Are you Miles?" Miles nodded, and replied, "The fox is in here," motioning to the door. "It's acting very weird. First it wouldn't stop barking, and then it found the owner's cat and started cuddling with it. Then it started growling and chased me out the door."

The two officers looked at each other wordlessly, and one pulled out a tranquilizer pistol and the other readied his loop and pole. "Would you mind stepping out of the way?" asked one of the officers. Miles quickly shuffled out of the way of the door, and let the two officers pass.

It was over in an instant. There was a creak of a door, a hiss of gas propellant from the pistol, a yelp, and then silence. "I'll go get the kennel," said the officer with the gun, while the other looped the pole around the unconscious fox's neck.

Miles peered into the apartment one last time to take in the scene. Nothing remained for him to do to help. Glancing down as he departed, he saw a woman's purse with the apartment keys laying on top of it, sitting on the floor to the right of the door. He decided to turn the keys in at the main office and leave a note. The officers certainly would lock the door behind them, and he didn't want the owner to come back and be locked out of the apartment.

---

The fox woke with a start. The bright mid-morning sun was beating down on her, and she was laying, curled into a fluffy ball, in the middle of a grassy field. Fighting back the aftereffects of the sedative, she raised her head and looked around. It was hard to focus, and she felt like she was hung over after a night of heavy drinking, but no bender she could have gone on would have explained the events of last night. She could recall getting on her bus on the way home from work, and she remembered suddenly noticing a sleeping fox on the seat across from her, but instead of keeping clear or calling to the driver, she felt compelled to pick it up and put it on her lap. After that, the rest of the evening was a blur. The next thing she knew for sure was she was wiping its semen off her face; its taste, salty and rich in her mouth. She didn't want to think about what happened next.

Shakily, she uncurled and stood up on her forepaws, but she wasn't quite ready to try out her hindlegs just yet. Looking down at her appendages, she inspected the fluffy black digits half-buried in the tall grass, and tried to flex her fingers into a fist. They curled in response, but the most she could achieve was digging her claws into the soil. Her fingers were too short to properly move, and thick pads on the bottom of them collided with the pad on her palm. Sighing in frustration and defeat, she took one final swipe at a reed of grass, just to see if she could hold onto anything in the small area between her digits. The tiny hairs between her pads made sure to push the grass out of her grasp as she pawed fruitlessly at the groundcover. Maybe she could try again when she wasn't drugged up, she hoped. Rising to allfours, she placed her dainty fox toes on the grass, and tried to step forward, doing her best to disregard the fact she wasn't wearing clothes. Somehow, between her spinning head and her new fox legs, she didn't fall over. At least, not until her tail brushed up against some tall grass and scared the bejesus out of her. The shock sent her screaming and flying through the air in a panic, before crash-landing seven feet ahead of where she had been, only now, in a disorderly ball of fur and flailing legs. Panting with the panic and excitement, the fox brought her head up again, and tried to remind herself that she had a tail now. A tail. Swooning at the realization, she fell flat back into the grass. This was all too much for her right now.

It was a good five minutes later before she regained enough composure to try standing again, this time with much greater success. She began trotting around the field, looking for any indication of where she was. Being lower to the ground meant it was harder to see above the tall grass, but her tall ears could hear some faint signs of civilization far up ahead. If only she could get to a road or a house, maybe she could figure out where animal control dropped her. Steeling herself for a long trip ahead, she set out to find her way home, unaware of the golden eyes watching her from the grove of trees behind her.

The road wasn't far, thankfully. Animal control dumped her near the woods where they assumed she came from. Placing a paw on the warm, sun-bathed pavement, the fox looked around and sniffed the air, trying to spot any land marks or road signs that looked familiar. Nothing was immediately obvious, but she felt she wouldn't be lost for long if she continued down the road. Trotting along the pavement and new claws scrapping on the ground, she began to recall more of last night's events. Everything had happened so fast. One moment, she was trying to chase the fox out of the suite with her broom, the next, she was on the floor, barking and squeaking as an animal. The fox had then leaped over her and stood under the refrigerator until the freezer burst open to shower him with frozen food. She recalled feeling some justice was being served when the frozen chicken had smacked him hard in the face. Hopefully, he'd be feeling that today.

Backpack! The fox had been loading her food into a backpack, she suddenly realized with horror. Did this mean he was also a human that had been turned into a fox? A normal fox shouldn't have been on the bus, or wearing a backpack, or even smart enough to load a pack up with food. It was the only reasonable explanation, given her current predicament. She began to wonder if stealing food was in her future, since this one had been so eager to take hers. Not wanting to follow in the footsteps of the fox before her, she made an oath to herself to never steal as long as she could help it. Stealing was wrong, whether she was a fox or not. Many people who knew her would have called her a hippy, and so living off the land sounded like an ideal she never thought she could live up to until now, because she lacked any survival skills, and was accustomed to city life. That was starting to change now, all she needed to do was learn to hunt. Barely a hundred yards down the road after swearing herself to her new life, she realized she wasn't going to be able to keep her oath; the constant contemplation of food was making her belly churn with hunger, and she knew she wasn't ready to hunt yet.

The low rumble of a car could be heard off in the distance. Wasting no time, she scampered off the road into some brush to wait for the vehicle to pass. She didn't want to be seen like this, even if no one could recognize her. That's when it struck her: her cat, Toby, recognized her. He was a shut-in of a cat, and didn't handle strangers well. Despite that, he had come to comfort her when she was back at her apartment. Fear and panic began to set in, and her tail slowly curled between her legs. If she was stuck as a fox in the wild, who would take care of her cat? Toby deserved better than to be a stray. She had to get back to him so she could try to take care of him to the best of her ability. Maybe, once she learned to hunt, she could bring him mice and birds she caught. Then the thought of crunching small animals in her jaws started to give her the chills, and her hackles began to rise. She really wasn't ready to be a fox yet, but a gurgle in her stomach reminded her she didn't have much time to prepare.

The car passed without event, and she returned to the road, resuming her brisk pace. Her hearing was incredible compared to her human ears. It made it a lot easier to notice any possible threats coming her way, as well as possible prey, she realized. Once the noise from the car settled into the distance, her fuzzy ears heard the call of a rooster crowing from a distant farmhouse. She felt her stomach give another bubble. It was breakfast time, and there was no hope of her normal yogurt and granola today. No time like the present, she said to herself, realizing it was time to embrace her vulpine proclivities if she was to have a meal today. Slinking off the road again, she made her way towards the farmhouse to scope out her options.

The farmhouse sat in the middle of a large grassy open field. Stealthy approach would have been impossible if the owners had bothered to mow their lawn at all. Instead, she found it quite easy to creep through the tall tan grass and not worry about being spotted. The smell of chicken dung floated lightly in the air, so she knew she was getting close. The coop had to be in the back yard from everything she could sense. Using her sharp ears, she listened closely to the house, trying to sense any activity inside. There was a car parked in the gravel driveway, but it was still early morning, so it was possible the home owner didn't need to leave for work just yet. Adrenaline started pumping through her as she realized she was trespassing, and she wasn't used to this kind of illicit behavior. It's OK. I'm a fox. I'm a fox. I can do this, she began to chant to herself. Hearing nothing from the house, she began to creep forward again, keeping a wide distance from the house to get an earlier view of the back yard.

Clearing the edge of the building from obstructing her view, she could see the coop fifty feet from the back wall of the house.

The coop itself was hardly more than a large, vented wooden box with a small door on the front, and a chicken ramp leading up to it. Pretty classic, as far as coops go. Not wanting to push her luck, she quickly ran across the back lawn, and up to the door of the coop. The grass in backyard was properly manicured, and left little cover for her to sneak her way in. Sniffing the door, somewhat instinctively as she let her fox senses take her through the motions, she found that the locking mechanism for the door was a simple sliding barrel lock. It may be enough to confuse other animals, but for her, even her awkward paws could flip it open. Before she could raise her paws to move the lock, a nervous clucking started to sound loudly from within the coop. Shit, she cursed to herself, and quickly, she pawed the slider and the door open so she could get a breakfast.

The stench of chicken was overpowering inside the coop, and the moment she stepped inside, the nervous clucking turned into a flurry of flapping and flying feathers. While trying to decide which bird to grab as they all fled their nesting pens and screaming loudly, a rooster landed on her head and began pecking her hard, and pulling out bits of orange fur. She squeaked and yelped in response, but it made her choice of chickens easy. Reeling back from the bird's onslaught, the rooster fell off her head and onto the ground in front of her, and before he could get back up on his feet, she pounced on him and held him down with both of her black paws. The rooster cawed loudly and fluttered beneath her weight. This was it. This is what she came here for. Slowly, she brought her fangs closer to his neck, ready to bite down hard to crush it. Just before she reached it, the rooster, knowing its fate, went limp, ready to accept its death. It was too much for her in the moment. She couldn't end the life of the bird; it was too sinister for her. Hastily, she began to look around the coop. The hens were fluttering and screaming from the highest perches, leaving their nesting pens unguarded. She needed a reason, any reason to not to have to kill today. As she turned her head around, she noticed something sitting plainly in the nesting pen. An egg. Tail wagging at her sudden fortune, she released the rooster, and crunched down on the raw egg. It wasn't very good, and it was very messy, but it was better than killing the poor birds. The rooster got back up, and charged at her again, but a quick swat of her paw sent it flying across the wood floor of the coop. Gobbling down three more eggs, she turned to the door of the coop and squeezed out.

There was runny egg and shattered shells running down her lips, and she took a moment as she stood outside the coop to lick it off. Suddenly, there was a loud crack as the back door of the farm house flew open, and the owner was standing in the threshold, aiming a rifle at her. "Damn foxes! Leave my chickens alone!" he exclaimed, and opened fire. *BANG!* sounded the weapon, and she felt something hit her side. In too much of a panic, she bolted towards the nearest cropping of brush to get cover. The man had re-cocked his rifle and was tracking her in the brush. \ **BANG!** The weapon sounded again. There was no safety here. She broke cover and continued running as fast and as far as she could go.

Once clear of the property, and on the opposite side of the road, she flopped down hard under a bush, panting hard and her tongue hanging far out from her black lips. That was too close, she thought to herself. Next time, she would have to be more prepared to take decisive action, instead of meandering around and wresting with the morality of killing another animal. As the adrenaline in her veins died down, a searing pain began to throb on her left side, until it overcame her and she squealed out in agony. Gingerly, she turned to look herself over, and to her horror, she saw a deep, gushing, mortal wound in her orange furry side. She had been shot! Oh no, not like this. I can't die like this!_She whimpered to herself. Already, blood was pooling in a dark puddle on the ground where she lay, and she was starting to feel lightheaded from the blood loss. _Help! Somebody help me! she shouted out, but the only sounds of her voice she could hear were the sounds of an animal yipping in pain. _ She was finished, flat out murdered over fifty cents worth of eggs. Her panting became slower and shallow, and her body began to get cold all over. She couldn't survive even one day as a fox. She didn't even get a proper meal, she ruminated. The eggs weren't the normal cooked eggs she liked, and there were still bits of crunchy shell stuck between her lips. She didn't know where she was, and dying here meant that Toby was going to be stuck in her apartment until he starved to death. Her vision started to black out while she laid in the bush. _Toby. Poor, Toby. I couldn't save him, and I couldn't save myself. Why did I have to get shot? I wish I didn't get shot...

*WISH*

Blue light flared up and washed around her, over her blood-soaked coat. The light began to surge and focus on her wound pooling in a concentrated blue-white fountain of wispy energy. On death's door and barely aware of what was happening, the blue light sank into the wound and caused her to take in a deep gasp of air. Energy flowed through her, and rising suddenly to her paws, she watched the light on her wound slowly fade away, leaving a lump of metal to fall to the ground at her side. Taking in another deep breath to test, she found the pain was completely gone. Miraculously, she was healed! Tail fluttering happily, she let out a loud squeak in triumph, but quickly regretted her outburst of excitement. There was a man out there with a gun, and he wanted her dead. She flattened herself on the ground, careful to not place her coat in the puddle of her blood that was still soaking into the ground.

The day was getting stranger and stranger. Within the last twelve hours, she had been turned into a fox, and then had a mortal wound heal itself instantly. What more magical events would she experience today? Without warning, there was a sharp churning in her gut, leaving her feel like a giant void had opened up inside her. She wondered if part of the gunshot wound wasn't healed, and the surface of her skin had only closed over the bleeding, but she dismissed that notion, as the void took on an insatiably hungry feeling. For a moment, she considered going back to the coop for more food, but thought better of it. Four eggs had been enough to fill her fox belly, and the feeling inside her hungered, but it wasn't her own hunger. Gorging on chickens wasn't going to help for now.

She set out on the country road again, taking care to keep out of the sight of humans. Much of the road was bordered by drainage ditches and culverts, so any time a car would roll on by, she had a place to dive into to keep out of sight. An hour later, she found herself in front of a corner store she happened to recognize. It was a disheveled building, nothing more than a shack that had been converted into a convenience store, but more importantly, she had been past here before as a human. She knew where she was, and how to get home! The journey would be ten or twelve miles back to the city, which would be quite a trip on paw, but perfectly doable before the day was out. Yipping excitedly, she crossed the road and turned down the new street towards home. With any luck, she should be back to her apartment by nightfall, and she and Toby could live out on the streets together.

Noon was approaching, and she still had the greater part of a day's travel ahead of her. While the void had calmed down to just a small, dwindling whisper, her building thirst had not. The morning sun had been beating down on her for hours, and all the casual panting she was doing wasn't helping her stay hydrated. She also imagined that the magic that had saved her life didn't replace the fluids she lost. Water was about to become a concern, long before her trip was over.

Signs of civilization were starting to become more common as she approached the suburbs. Uneven sidewalks, parked cars, and chain-link fences penning in the grassy front lawns of the houses situated there. All she needed was to find a forgotten sprinkler, or an unguarded spigot in front of them. She didn't think a suburban human would react quite as violently as the chicken owner did, should she be caught again, but she wasn't willing to take chances. Taking a brief detour, she found a nearby house with an unfenced yard where she could get around to the backyard. Being discreet was still key.

There could not have been a better house for miles that would have suited her needs. The backyard was a lush, green garden, filled with massive flower beds planted in cedar boxes, ivy-covered overhead trellises with hanging planters, several rows of home-grown vegetables, and large brown ceramic pots blooming with bouquets that were big enough for her to hide in. The air was rich with the aroma of flowers and vegetation, and plenty of shade was offered by the ivy growing overhead. If there wasn't a hose or an irrigation pump here, then she didn't know where she could find one. Nervously, she placed her paws on the cement tile walkway that lined all the beds, and trotted into the garden, trying to stifle her claw clicks. Sniffing the air with her dry black nose, she began marching up and down the rows of planter boxes, looking for anything that looked like a hose or a sprinkler. There was nothing to be found in the flower beds, but she spotted a soaker hose laying by the home-grown produce. Quickly, she rushed over to the green rubber tube, and took the hose in her fangs. Chewing it was able to bring some of the left-over water out of the hose, but it was only a few drops. The spigot wasn't turned on. Unfettered by this new obstacle, she quickly put her nose to the ground and started tracing the hose along its path. Worming its way back and forth through the rows of the garden, and snaking its way through some peas and corn, she reached the end of the hose and found it wasn't attached to anything. It was the terminated end of the hose. Frustrated, she threw caution to the wind, and clicked her claws around the cement pathways. She still hadn't found the spigot, and she had followed the hose down the wrong direction. Returning to the spot where she chewed, she gave a look over the back of the house with her golden eyes. From her vantage point, there was no clear origin to the hose. All she could see was a patio door on a short wooden porch, and a thick row of garden shrubs lining the drainage gravel around the edge of the wall. The hose had to originate from behind one of the shrubs. Scurrying to the shrubs, she started sniffing around with her nose to the ground, looking for the smell of rubber and water while rustling the against the evergreen bushes. Nothing was here. Darting across the patio, she checked the far side of the house, and still found nothing. Huffing her mounting frustration, she returned back to the chew spot, and began to methodically follow the hose line again, this time in the opposite direction. Again, she was snaking around the rows of plants, hopping up in to the raised boxes, and scampering every which way, looking for the source of the hose. Finally, her hunt ended next to the storage shed, where a faucet was sticking out of the ground at head level. Releasing a sigh of relief, she lifted her arm up and placed a black furry paw on the valve wheel, laced her ivory claws through the spokes in the wheel, and gripped as hard as she could with her pads while turning with her whole body to gain more leverage. Slowly, degree by degree, the valve turned, as did her stance to face the house. The plumbing creaked, the hoses came to life with a hiss, and glorious water sprayed in a fine mist down from the trellises and up from every planter box. A brief motion caught her attention, and sound of heavy fabric fluttered roughly by the patio door. Ears perking up at the additional sound

of the garden coming to life, she focused her attention on the patio, only to see a large brown German Shephard head sticking out from a dog door, and it was staring directly at her.

The dog only hesitated for a moment. Emitting a low, dangerous growl, it lunged forward, out the door and off of the patio. She barely had any time to react. Launching herself over the nearest planter box with a panicked *YIPE* , she managed to clear the spot she had been standing, just as the German Shepard careened into the wall of the shed, then clawing and scrabbling on the cement tiles to give chase. Water was spraying everywhere in a heavy mist, and the quick jump over the planter was enough to get a coat of wet fur, let alone the wet aisle she was now in the middle of. Bounding toward the house, down the soaking aisle between two planter boxes, she realized she had two options: She could try to stay and get a drink of water and get torn to shreds by the dog, or she could return to her trip on the road and die of dehydration sooner or later. Behind her, the dog had cleared the back side of the aisle of boxes, and was speeding across the garden towards her, its black muzzle wide open and gleaming white fangs ready to tear her to bits. Her heart sank; precious time to make a choice was a luxury she didn't have, and running full speed on all fours to escape the dog sounded risky. She had been a fox for only half a day, and wasn't sure she could get the rhythm down while her life depended on it. However, a new option began to present itself to her. Throwing all caution to the wind, she bounded up the step of the porch, and launched herself though the dog door with her paws outstretched. Once they hit carpet, she quickly spun about, and looked for the gate to barricade the door with. Thankfully, it was in its track above the door, but it had been braced at an angle to keep it from falling down. All it needed was a kick to realign it with the track. Unable to spare a second to see how close the dog was, she stood on her sopping wet hind paws, and pushed with her dripping pads against the aluminum plate. With a scrape of metal and a clang, the gate fell like a guillotine, and covered the vinyl weather flap on the door. Not a moment too soon; the dog collided with the door, causing a loud clang to rumble through the house.

Deep, angry, throaty barks and snarls sounded from the other side of the door, and she backed away, slowly, noticing the muddy fox paw prints she was leaving in the carpet. So much for keeping stealthy, she said to herself. Maybe they would blame the mess on the dog. The dog moved to the patio window and continued to snarl and bark at her through the glass. Heaving a sigh, she planted her four paws down, shook back and forth to remove the water her coat was covered in, giving her tail an extra jiggle to keep it fluffed up, and trotted across the room to look for a source of water in the house.

The house was sparsely furnished and smelled of the dog and her wet fur. Shag carpet covered the floor of the room she passed through, and had little more than a couch and a lamp against the wall. There was a large hanging clock made from some long, polished log fragment, and the decorations were only pictures and artwork of forests and flowery fields on the wall. She turned up her black nose at the heavy smell of dog and fur in the room, and quickly trotted into the kitchen.

Much like the garden outside, the kitchen was filled with green, house plants. Every windowsill had multiple pots resting on them, each soaking up the sun, and the eatery was surrounded by larger planters which held a variety of ferns. Claws clacking on the hard wood kitchen floor, she positioned herself in front of the sink, and began to think about the body movements she would need to get onto the counter. She had managed to jump as a fox a few times today, but it was always out of shock or surprise, and never quite so vertical in trajectory. Closing her eyes, and picturing what Toby did to hop around her apartment, she began to mimic the stance. Tail hanging outwards and parallel to the floor, she squatted down, almost touching her heels to the floor, hunched her shoulders, and then thrusted hard with her springy legs. *BAM* Her legs slipped out behind her on the hard floor, and she saw stars as she collided, head first, into the side of the counter cabinet. Opening her golden eyes, and finding herself sprawled across the floor, she could see a splintering dent in the cheap cabinet door from where the impact of her head struck.

_Ow. _

Reaching up with her black paws, she tried to hold her reeling head, but found it was too difficult to be comforting. She could barely get her fuzzy, padded digits up to her nose, since her shoulders didn't work that way anymore. Instead, she rolled on to her side and let the spinning and pain slowly subside. Outside, the dog had resumed barking after hearing her crash, and her sharp ears could hear the clacking of its claws as it paced around angerly on the outdoor tile. Not wanting to waste any more time, she stood up and tried a new approach. Trotting over to the nearby dining table, she grabbed a chair leg in her jaws, and began to pull the seat up to the counter. Finding it much easier to climb up to a chair and then the laminate counter, she hopped up to the sink, and then clumsily pawed the faucet until fresh cool water streamed from it.

Just like everything else today, drinking water was a new challenge. She knew the ideal way would be to lap up the water like a fox, but foxes usually don't get to drink from running faucets either. He thought she could do better this time. The first attempt involved getting wrapping her jaw around the spigot, but she couldn't drink fast enough, and her lips couldn't close correctly, so water sprayed all over her and the counter. Her second attempt was more bold. Laying on her back and hanging her head over the sink, she positioned her open maw under the stream. This caused her to choke and sputter and spit water everywhere again, and as she tried to withdraw, her nostrils found their way into the flow. Water poured into her sinuses, and she quickly flipped back over to start sneezing and coughing, only to misplace her rear paw and have it slip off the wet counter, taking the rest of her unbalanced body with it. Lying in a pile of wet orange fur at the bottom of the sink, she began to despair. Everything she had done today was a failure, and she still was miles from home. What am I doing wrong? She said to herself. Normal foxes don't have this much trouble surviving, why can't I? That's when it struck her. She wasn't acting like a normal fox. Everything that had gone wrong today was because she was trying to hang onto her old habits, or get needlessly creative. Foxes didn't waste time sparing rooster's lives, or travel rural highways, or go out of their way for fresh tap water. Foxes also don't have pet cats they are worried about either, she admitted.

Finding new resolve in what she must do, she untangled herself from the floor, and hopped back up to the running tap. Sticking her tongue out, she began to lap at the running water like the fox she was. Cool water ran down her throat properly, as she swallowed each tongueful of water until she was satisfied. Being a fox wasn't going to be too bad if she remembered to act like one, but she still couldn't leave Toby home alone. There was no way she was going to let that part of her life go that easily. Nudging off the water flow with her muzzle, she hopped down to the floor, and made towards the front door to leave, before stopping dead in her tracks in horror. She was a fox, and she had locked herself in the house. There was no way to walk out the front door without her human hands.

From the moment she had entered the house, a nagging feeling was at the back of her mind had been letting her know how insanely stupid her plan would be. Until today, the prospect of getting locked inside a house seem nearly impossible. Now, she needed a new plan. One that would get her back to the apartment before nightfall. The owner would be back eventually, and she could try to sneak out as they came in, but that could take hours for them to return, and the dog was likely to meet up with the owner and come in the door at the same time. Maybe, the owner left a window open in one of the bedrooms? Quickly running past the kitchen and down the hall, she began to dart from room to room and sniffing around for fresh outdoor air. Nothing. No sign of open windows anywhere. Defeated again, she returned to the living room and flopped down on the carpet, tucking her legs under her and laying her chin on her furry arms.

What would a fox do? she said to herself. All she could picture was panicked running around the house, and frustrated property destruction. She had committed enough of that by accident already. Not acting like a fox got her in here, so thinking like one wasn't going to help now. Huffing a sigh, she stared at her paws in front of her, wondering what she could do with them. She had been able to turn on some faucets and nudge some latches, but turning a doorknob or retracting the deadbolt seemed out of the question, even if she was tall enough to reach them. Lifting her head, she glanced around the room with her golden eyes for anything that could help her. There was an old couch and recliner in front of an old tube TV in an entertainment center, and potted plants everywhere. Nothing that she would be able to pick up in her mouth to use as a tool, or push over into a window to break it. Rising to her paws, she trotted back to the kitchen to look for anything she could possibly use. One by one, she started opening the cabinets by taking the handle in her jaws. Pots and pans, and seldom used kitchen equipment greeted her in the first few cabinets, and various foodstuffs and eventually the bag of kibble for the German Shepard were behind the following doors. If she wanted to make a ruckus and antagonize the dog outside, she would have what she needed, but she didn't see how that would be helpful.

Finding nothing of use at ground level, she hopped up on the chair near the sink, and then the countertop. Careful to not slip and fall off again, she moved to each overhead cabinet and tried her luck. Plates, bowels, drinking glasses were nearest the sink. Towards the end of the counter, she found a cabinet full of various blends of teas, which smelled very nice. Tea had been one of her favorite beverages when she wanted to relax. There were many nights where she curled up in her apartment with Toby on her lap, sipping tea and reading a good book. After today, she wasn't sure if she would ever get a chance to have tea again, or if foxes could drink it safely. Indulging for a bit, she rose to her hind paws and put her head in the cabinet, just to smell the boquet of gentle aroma while she could. Just the little bit of happiness she was allowing herself started to cause her tail to sway merrily. With her head buried in the cabinet, she didn't notice how close she was to one of the plants on the counter, and before she knew it, her puffy tail caught itself on one of the taller plants, and with a loud crash, it fell off the counter, shattering the red clay planter on the floor and scattering soil around. Immediately, the dog started barking outside again, and she could see it through the window, pacing madly back and forth along the garden.

Carefully placing her forepaws back on the countertop, she tiptoed over to the window and watched the dog barking like it was being driven insane. If it didn't shut up soon, a neighbor was going to call the cops, and she didn't need that kind of trouble right now. Or did she? An idea started to form in her mind, and the more she thought about it, the more she was sure she could pull it off. She didn't need to wait for the owner to come back, or wait for a frustrated neighbor to run out of patience, all she needed was a phone! Frantically, she looked around the kitchen, looking for the device that would set her free. Near the tea cabinet and behind the space where she had knocked the pot off the counter, was a cordless landline phone hanging on the wall. Carefully picking up the phone in her fangs, she placed it on the counter in front of her with the buttons facing up. Slowly, she placed her paw over the earpiece, and put her weight into it so that it wouldn't move or skate along the counter while she dialed. Reaching over with her other paw, she carefully aligned her longer middle digit claws over the key pad, and then clenched her pads so the claw could stab downwards. Nothing happened. Huffing, she tried again, and still, there was no sound of the keys being pressed coming from the receiver. Desperate, she put her whole paw over the entire key pad and pressed down. The rubberized keys squished gently under her pads, but the phone was not active. Perhaps it was too much to expect that someone still used an active landline, since everyone had moved to using cell phones years ago. In a fit of frustration, she slammed both paws down on the key pad with a little hop, as if she was pouching on prey. Out of sheer luck, one of her claws hit a button near the mouthpiece, which made the phone flare to life. The dull hum of the dial tone emanated from the handset, and it was ready to be dialed. Giving a quick yip of excitement, she braced the phone and tried her dialing technique again. It took a few tries, and she kept bumping the wrong numbers, or running out of time before the disengaged tone would start to chime, but eventually, she was able to dial 911.

"911, what is your emergency," the dispatcher answered. In her haste, the fox drew in a breath to reply in English, but stopped suddenly, when she remembered that she couldn't talk, and the sound she would have made would ruin her plan. Darting across the countertop to put some distance between her and the phone receiver, she began screaming as if in anguish, just as she had been last night in her apartment.

*ARRRRRF*

Her sharp ears could hear the reply from across the kitchen, "Ma'am, can you tell me what is going on?"

*AAAAARRRRF*

"Hello? Ma'am?"

Needing to change up the ruse, she shoved another flower pot off the counter while screaming some more. The pot hit the floor with a loud smash, and the dog began barking wildly outside again. Jumping off the counter and running down the hall, she added in another loud scream. In the distance, she could still hear the phone, "Ok ma'am, we're dispatching deputies, please stay on the line." Knowing her performance wasn't over just yet, she ran back into the kitchen, and started opening the cabinets and yanking out the pans and kettles. Holding one by the handle in her mouth, she dragged it around the kitchen walls and cabinets, trying to make as much noise as possible. It was working. The dispatcher, sounding a tiny bit shaken at the sounds of violence and chaos over the phone, finally said, "Hang tight ma'am, we have tracked your address and the deputies are only a few minutes away."

The cacophony was driving the dog insane. It was rapidly barking, faster than it could breathe, and was starting to jump up on the patio door frantically. For her final bit of the performance, the fox dragged the pan across the other pans on the floor, and then trotted back down the hallway again, dropped the pan from her mouth, and gave one final, long, desperate scream before laying her muzzle down in her arms, waiting for the police to show up. Her sudden silence did not calm the dog. From across the house, she could hear it slamming itself against the glass, and its claws clacking and scraping on the door as it pawed at it to get back inside.

The next step was to wait for the cops to arrive. She was far enough away from the phone that she couldn't tell if the dispatcher had hung up, or was just listening for any further activity. It was safer to not find out, because one animalistic snort into the receiver could ruin the whole charade. The dog was still helping sell the fiasco to anyone listening in, since it was making enough of a racket that the dispatcher would hear it over the phone from anywhere in the house, but she wasn't going to count on that lasting much longer. She needed to think about her next steps after the cops show up. Initially, her plan was to run past them as they came into the house, but after the performance she just pulled off, she wouldn't be shocked if the S.W.A.T. team showed up in full riot gear and would shoot anything that was moving towards them after they entered. One option she considered, was to take some potter soil and spread around a message on the floor, but she quickly dismissed that idea, not knowing how they would react to a fox in a house that knows how to write. Think like a fox, she repeated again to herself. Running around in a foolish panic came to mind again, but a better idea bubbled up to the surface a moment later. She needed patience, and foxes could be very patient when hunting. Focusing her mind as if she was hunting, she suddenly knew what needed to be done.

Getting up from the hallway, she trotted over to the living area near the front door, sat down gently, and curled her tail around the side of her heel. The dog was still barking and slamming against the door in the next room, but she tuned it out as she focused on the front door, her ears held high and listening for and sounds of the cops arriving. She felt her ears reflexively twist and tune like satellite dishes each time the noises from the dog made an exceptionally loud crash, but she kept her golden slitted eyes focused on the door, waiting for the moment when the cops arrived. Quietly, in the distance, there was the sound of a car engine pulling into the driveway, followed by the sounds of tires crunching on gravel, two car doors slamming shut, and footsteps walking up to the door. Anxiously, she rose to all four paws, before sitting back down, tapping the floor with her forepaws in impatience. The moment was now!

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

Heavy knocks on the front door sounded in front of her, and the dog outside began its own pounding and scratching with renewed vigor from the room behind her. Twisting her neck, she saw the dog through the patio door staring at her, as it slammed and scratched the glass with murder in its brown eyes. "Police! Open up," boomed a commanding voice from behind the door. One of the deputies started to peer in through the living room window, holding out his nightstick for better visibility in the unlit room. She watched as the faint beam of light scanned over the carpet and entertainment center, finally resting on the messes she had made only a few minutes before.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

The first deputy repeated his pounding, but instead asked the other, "Are you able to see anything?"

"No," he replied, "just a messy house."

"There's no cars in the driveway. Do you think anyone is home?"

"It doesn't look like it. All the lights are off."

"Then, just who the hell made the call to dispatch?" said the first deputy.

"Whomever upset the dog in the back yard, that's for sure."

*Bang* *Bang* *Bang*

The knocks were starting to sound less authoritative, and it wouldn't be long before they gave up and left. The fox had been standing still as a statue, and it was likely the deputy looking in through the window saw her as a decoration while scanning the room. If she made a sudden move now, the deputy surely would spot her, and the ruse would be up. The best she would be able to hope for is another call to animal control and she would have to start her trip all over. She had to give them probable cause to enter, or they would leave. Careful to not make any overt motions, she gave another scream, hoping it would be a convincing human scream with the deputies being as close as they were. It did the trick. The deputy in the window put away his nightstick, and unholstered his service pistol before stepping out of view, behind the door.

*BANG BANG* *BANG BANG* *BANG BANG*

Both of the deputies began to kick at the door with the intent of breaking it down. From inside, she could see the wood around the door jamb start to fracture and break. Just as the door finally gave way and swung open with a slam against the wall, there was a loud metallic clattering in the room behind her. The dog had slammed itself through the gate and was in the house! With their weapons drawn, the two cops entered the doorway, but were hardly able to survey the scene before the large brown and black German Shepard rounded the corner. The dog stopped short, not knowing if it should pursue the fox that had violated its territory, or handle the new intruders. That moment of hesitation was all the fox needed, and she darted from her stationary position through the deputy's legs, and out the front door. The cops hadn't seen the fox until it was past them, since their attention was on the dog. The dog leapt into action to pursue the fox, which left it to bowl over one of the deputies as it tried to squeeze past them to the front door. Both of the deputies tried to grab the dog as it shoved past them, but they only managed to slow it briefly as its sleek coat allowed it to slip from their grasp.

Finally, free of the house, the fox ran down the lawn and out into the street with the dog in close pursuit. She wasn't sure if she could run at full speed as a fox, but the threat of the dog behind her was convincing motivation to try. Never in her life had she run so fast, and with her head naturally so close the to the ground, the pavement zipping under her chin was as terrifying as hanging out of a moving vehicle. Just one wrong step with a paw, and she could go careening head over tail on the coarse street pavement. To her relief, she didn't have to keep running. The dog gave up its pursuit after a few moments, now satisfied its territory was no longer being violated by the vulpine intruder. Slowing to a hasty trot, she began to pant heavily, pink tongue hanging out over fangs and black lips. Finding a small grove of trees and bushes between a few of the suburban properties, she ducked into the shade they offered and flopped heavily down onto her side to catch her breath.

Too much time had been wasted. It was harder to keep track of time now, but she felt an hour had passed since she entered the garden property to find water. Getting back to Toby by nightfall was going to be difficult, and her vulpine instincts were telling her to stay in the shade and get off the road. The journey was going to take quite a bit longer than she originally estimated, especially if she wasn't going to be traveling on the pavement. Her pads ached from running on the abrasive, hot cement and asphalt, so avoiding it would be a welcome alternative. She just had to be careful to find the right sideroads and greenbelts to stay out of sight before entering the city proper. Rested and rising back to her paws, she gave a quick shake to get the moss and fallen twigs out of her fur, and set out again for the city.

---

The sun was starting to set when she arrived at the edge of the city. Most of the trip saw her ducking in and out of bushes and tall grass, or scurrying across seldom traveled back roads. Now, however, she couldn't remain comfortably hidden in the sparse foliage. There was none left. As she looked around with her sharp slitted eyes in the failing light, the phrase "concrete jungle" came to mind, and it had never felt so acute to her. She wanted to continue forward, but without proper cover, it felt too dangerous to try. With the sun setting soon, she decided to wait and rest a bit in the last bit of natural plant life she would see until she retrieved Toby. Somehow, she didn't expect to make it this far: the day had started so poorly, with her dying from a gunshot wound, and nearly being torn to shreds by an angry dog. Still, unexpected surprises, like having the magic that turned her into a fox, return to heal her wound, and the crafty thinking to get her out of the house saw her safely to this point. She wondered if the magic would continue to help her if she was killed again, or did she only get a few chances, like the nine lives of a cat? Testing her limits was a foolish idea, especially basing it around the silly superstition of feline mortality. Winding up dead as roadkill and having no one know who she was, was not how she wanted her life to end. It was bad enough that she was already dead to the human world--

She tried to shrug off her pessimistic train of thought. Maybe being a fox was only temporary, and she could change back to being human at some point in the future. Deep down inside, however, she knew that it was false hope. She was going to be a fox for the rest of her life, her humanity had been stolen from her, and she had to make the best of it.

Dusk turned to twilight, and the city started to glow as lights from the streetlamps began to flare brightly. Leaving her underbrush, she crossed into the city limits, and stuck to the shadows the best she could. Her paws scraped softly as she padded across the cool pavement, and her nose was filled with the acrid stench of the city. Just one day in the country with a fox nose was enough to spoil the place she had called home for so long. Anxiety flooded through her, and she doubled her pace as she darted from darkness to alley, along each city block. She didn't want to live in the city anymore. She wanted to be free in the wilderness.

Minutes turned to hours as she infiltrated the city. Before she neared her apartment, she passed a glowing light board for a business plaza, and noticed it was almost 2am. Making it out of the city by day break was going to be difficult, and she had been awake the whole day. Resting and refreshing in her apartment was going to be necessary before setting out again tomorrow night. Rounding the final corner, she found her apartment complex, and scampered across the street, right past the bus stop she would disembark at every day.

The complex itself was poorly lit, as the owning corporation of the facility did a poor job with upkeep, using excuses of claiming they provide other amenities, like security, to weasel out of spending on basic maintenance. Normally, she would have been grumbling to herself about the conditions, since they always made her feel unsafe, but tonight, it was exactly what she needed. Reaching the stairs, she dashed quickly up the four flights to get to her suite. Two nights ago, she was a human, she would be fishing in her purse for her keys by now, just to have something to protect herself with if someone wanted to use these shadows for nefarious purposes. Her journey complete, she arrived in front of the familiar sky-blue painted door, only to realize it was now five times her height, and she had no keys to unlock the door, nor hands to hold any keys with. A growling yap of frustration escaped her lips. She had come so far, and she was too tired to think of a new trick to get inside. Exhausted and having no plan, she leant against the door with her side, and slumped down in the doorway. To her surprise, she never properly landed in the fuzzy ball she was trying to curl into. The door, incorrectly latched, gave way, and she flopped gracelessly into her darkened living room.

Overjoyed to be back home, she got back up to her paws, and softly nudged the door shut, so as to not trap herself in the apartment. Smells that seemed almost familiar, but forgotten, filled her dark nose, and then she realized it was her human scent that was in the apartment. She could also smell Toby and his litterbox, and also something else that didn't belong. It smelled of the city, but much stronger.

Slowly, she stepped further into the suite, and she felt the hairs on the back of her scruff start to rise. Someone was in here, and they weren't invited.

In the darkness of the lampless room, her eyes could make out objects in the darkness just as easy as if the lights had been on. All around her, the room was a complete disaster, more so than when she had left it. She was embarrassed that she kept such a messy house, but she didn't entertain guests often, so there was little reason to keep it neat and tidy. Now, however, it looked like most of the junk she left lying around had been rifled through and thrown on the ground. Half way into the room, she found her purse, lying open and empty, with all of her accessories and care products spilled out next to it. Linens had been bundled into a ball and tossed into a pile in the corner, and the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen were all hanging open. Aghast at the violation of her personal space, she stumbled through the room before misplacing a paw on top of a crumpled piece of paper. Looking down, she saw it was a note intended for the occupant, but the lack of light and the wrinkles made it hard to make out the full message. It didn't matter what it said. Once she had Toby, she would be leaving and not coming back.

From across the kitchen, in her bedroom, she heard a brief shuffle of fabric, and then a deranged giggle. She began to quiver in fear and anxiety. Toby was supposed to be in her room, but the intruder she was sensing was also in there as well. Carefully, she began to cross the hard floors, trying to not make any noise with her claws, but the going was slow. Both her fear of confrontation, as well as needing to tiptoe with four clacking paws, kept her pace at a crawl. She didn't know what she was going to do with an intruder, but she hoped seeing a wild fox show up would be enough to spook them away. A full minute later, she was across the kitchen and was cautiously peering into her bedroom, leaving as much of her body in the hall as possible. Upon her bed, lightly silhouetted from the decorative icicle lights she hung around her room, sat a gray bearded, disheveled man. He was wrapped from head to toe in her sheets and other clothes and linens he had found from around her apartment, and he was rocking back and forth manically. Every few seconds, he would mutter to himself, and giggle, like he was telling himself a good joke. The fox was mortified. A squatter had broken into her house, and instead of showering or keeping things orderly, he had done his very best to rub his stench all over the room, and make the biggest mess possible after rifling through her things. Part of her was happy someone could use her warm home while she wouldn't be able to use it anymore, but nothing about this was how she would have envisioned the charity. Finally, making the first intelligible sound she heard, the vagrant called out "I am room 428!" and threw his head back, laughing hysterically to the ceiling at his own wit. With a massive *THWACK* , he threw himself backwards in laughter, and bashed his head hard on the headboard. "Errmm... Just the way mama likes it," he mumbled, while rubbing the back of his skull.

The fox was unsure of how to proceed. Toby had to be in here, but while the man was on her bed, she didn't think he would emerge to follow her out. She considered calling out to Toby, but the unhinged man would likely react poorly if a fox suddenly barked in the room. Turning around, she decided it would be best to search the rest of the house for Toby before making a commotion, but a sudden clicking from the room caused her ears to prick up. The transient had pulled out a lighter and a glass pipe, and was sparking the flint to smoke whatever substance was in the tube. Anger flared within her. The apartment complex was quite large, with many lives contained within. If this man, bundled in all these sheets, started a fire in her bed at 2am, there could be dozens of lives lost before the blaze would be put out. Marching fully into the bedroom, she gave a high-pitched, but defiant bark. Pulling the tube away from his mouth, the man stared in awe at the noisy fox in the room, his eyes going wide as saucers. White smoke billowed from his gaping mouth, and a shocked reaction hung on his lips. However, he never said anything. Instead, his eyes rolled back, and he slumped back, unconscious, and then began to convulse in the pile of sheets he had wrapped himself in. Unconcerned for the man, the fox yipped out a call for Toby, hoping he would respond to the call of a fox. He had been comforting to her last night while she could do nothing more than bark loudly. Thankfully, he obliged her call, and the cream-colored cat emerged from the darkened corner of the room with a gentle meow. He sauntered up to her and rubbed his side against her orange coat and purred softly. She returned the affection by nuzzling back, and giving a light lick behind his ear. _ We're moving out_, she motioned to him, and she could see he understood.

Behind her, the hobo's breathing became ragged, and he gurgled a bit before lying completely silent. Instinct sparked in the back of her mind. She sensed that he was dying, and despite having no love for the intruder and his potentially arsonistic ways, she wasn't about to leave a man to die on her bed while she was there to help. Leaping up on the bed and leaving Toby in the doorway, she grabbed the excess sheets that were wrapped around the man in her jaws and pulled them away from him while attempting to roll him fully onto his back. He flopped limply as she pulled, and she could tell immediately that he was no longer breathing. Come on, come on, don't die on my bed, she growled at him, and she placed her velvety black paws on his chest, and began to press down, performing chest compressions. It didn't even remotely work. She was too light to perform CPR. Stepping back, from the dying man, she leapt up into the air, and dove down with her paws outstretched, landing squarely on his chest, but she just bounced off of him. She had never needed to perform CPR as a human, and now she was a fox, and it didn't seem like she could do anything to help. Desperately, she decided to try mouth-to-mouth. She crawled up to his face, and tucked the tip of her muzzle through his bushy gray beard and against the man's purpling lips. The stench coming from him was revolting, but she exhaled sharply anyway, forcing most of her breath exit the sides of her pointy muzzle, and offering no help to the poor man. Tapping her paws repeatedly on the mattress in urgent frustration, she tried to figure out how a fox could help the man. As one final, last ditch effort, she shoved her whole muzzle into the man's mouth, and while spending extra effort to keep her jaws and lips tightly closed, she snorted hard through her nose into the back of his throat.

An invisible, golden spark of energy erupted from the man's throat and flowed back into her, shocking her nose, and causing her to recoil back onto the bed to fall on her tail, while the man's eyes snapped open and he gasped deeply for air. The energy flowed through her with no place to settle, arcing through every corner, paw pad, and tip of her tail. Every inch flooded with the warmth, and the electric charge became a golden flame, causing her to tingle all over, and feel like she could accomplish anything. She had saved the man's life, and she was ready to take on the trip back to the country to live in the woods. Nothing was going to stop her tonight, not even the need for rest. Hopping off the bed, she returned to the door way where Toby waited, and just as she trotted out of the bedroom, she heard the loud, squeak of a fox from the man on her bed. Horrorstruck, she swung her head back in the room, finally realizing what she had just done.

The man was kneeling on her bed, the covers he had wrapped himself in now fallen to his sides. His hands were wrapped around his throat, which was no longer covered in gray beard hair, but white downy fur. Flashing a glance an her, she saw his eyes had already turned to slits, and his nose was black and leathery. Smiling madly through blackening lips, long white fangs started to jut out from his grin, and he threw back his head and howled at the top of his lungs while his ears became pointed and furred. "AWOOOO!" he shouted, before leveling his gaze back at her, his face half pushed out to a narrow muzzle. His hands at his throat started to stretch and narrow, while his fingers shortened and developed black pads on each fingertip and palm. "I am the wolf of London!" he stated quite incorrectly. He was obviously turning into a fox. Tearing at his clothing, he began to take off his shirt and pants while he still had some dexterity in his hands. He then started to crawl around the bed on his hand-paws and knees, yipping and barking as his head finished its transformation.

She had seen enough. The man was out of his mind. Not only did he not care he was turning into an animal, but he thought he was a werewolf instead. Turning towards the kitchen with Toby in tow, she reached the refrigerator before hearing a loud thump from the room behind her. A creature that was a fox from the waist up came galloping out of her room on all fours, before crashing to the floor next her with its white belly exposed. _Belly ruuuubs! h_e panted at her.

No, you're gross and weird, she glared back.

"AWwoowowoo!" he howled from the floor, first in imitation of a wolf, but then from the discomfort from the white tipped tail that he was now growing. "Awoo"...Ooof, my tummy tum.

She sighed, Look, finish your transformation and get out of here. You've wrecked my apartment enough. I don't want you piddling in here too. It was mostly a bluff, she was leaving too, but she lost any remorse for turning the vagabond into a fox as soon as he stopped taking it seriously. She had died today, and he was treating this like he was a Halloween monster. He probably didn't care about turning into an animal anyway, he was already living like one on the streets.

His feet began to grow black fur, and then stretched out into four-toed paws. The transformation was finished. As he rose to all fours, she noticed how patchy and unkempt his fur was, even after the transformation. He kept twitching and quivering, and he looked rabid. She thought that maybe she was too hasty in telling him to leave, and decided to amend what she had just told him. _Ok, you're done now. You can stay for a little while. Don't close the front door or you will be trapped in here, and you do not want to see what hap--_She trailed off her words. The bum fox had got up and trotted past her, not paying attention.

I need food, hungry, he whimpered. Suddenly, there was a flash of brilliant, purple light from his eyes, and the trash bin from under the sink flew out of the cabinet as if punted, and spilled over the floor. Greedily, he scampered over to the spilled trash, and started milling about the discarded waste, looking for edibles. He snarled with another flash from his eyes, and all the lights in the apartment switched on. Yapping at the air with another flash, every single lightbulb exploded in their fixtures, showering fragments of glass and darkness all over the room. The vixen yipped in surprise, and Toby took cover under her legs. Something was horribly wrong. The bum fox's eyes were glowing with a dim, but steady purple light. Magic appeared to be leaking out at every whim of the fox in front of her, and it was about to destroy everything around them. Another pulse of purple, and all the cabinets, drawers, and the front flew open.

It was becoming dangerous to stay, she realized. Come Toby, she whined at the cat, and she bolted for the front door with cat in tow. Just as the cat cleared the door, the sectional sofa erupted from the center of the room, and spun through the air to crash against the open door. Run Toby! She barked from the outdoor walkway. Both she and the cat dashed to the complex's stairs, and down the four flights to the street below.

---

Standing outside the door to his apartment, Miles took another drag on his cigarette. It was late, and nearing bed time for him. There were few in the complex that had the late shift schedule he did, so the quiet nights were a great time to relax and think in the cool evening air. Dashing his cigarette out on the tray he brought out with him, he turned to go back inside. Suddenly, he heard a loud crash, followed by some high-pitched barking from the floor above him. "Those damn foxes are back again?" he questioned under his breath. What was happening in room 428 that was drawing these animals to the complex? He had been called by the head office earlier in the day, letting him know that the occupant had returned to pick up the key he left there. Maybe he should pop on upstairs and question the owner while they both were awake. In the end, he decided against it, it really wasn't his business, and he wasn't hearing the same traumatic screams he heard last night. Turning the knob to his door, he heard another loud crash, followed by an orange fox and a cream-colored cat scurrying around the stairwell at the end of the walkway. "Hm, looks like they left on their own this time," he muttered, and stepped inside.

Kicking off his shoes, and emptying his pockets of his keys and wallet on the table, he started to walk to his bedroom, before remembering he left his ash tray out on the railing of the walkway. Not wanting to risk the tray being knocked off by another occupant before he woke in the late morning, he returned to his front door, and tiptoed barefoot across the cold exterior flooring to get his possession. As he picked up the contoured glass tray, the scraping of claws on the floor sounded behind him, and he spun around to see another fox, this one looking more unkempt and deranged than the others he had seen. It staggered around the walkway, sniffing the ground, its eyes dimly flickering with a purple light, like a flashlight running on nearly-dead batteries. Miles wanted to rush back to his apartment, and close the door behind him, but instead he froze and plastered himself against the railing. The fox staggered forward, unseeing, until it passed Miles, and then continued down the walkway, looking more like a staggering zombie than the lively one he saw with the cat just a minute ago. Reaching a neighbor's door, two suites down from his, the fox looked up at the knob. There was a dull flash of purple, and the door cracked open, as if someone had opened it to let him inside. Miles exhaled quickly in a sigh of relief, and rushed back into his apartment to lock the door behind him. He would have to talk to the management tomorrow. He understood the complex was pet friendly, but if foxes were going to be the new en vogue pet around here, then someone should make sure all of them had their shots. Ten minutes later, he had brushed his teeth and was climbing into bed, when he heard what sounded like the neighbor's dogs barking in high-pitched yips. The fox was probably disturbing them, he thought, as he drifted off to sleep. It really wasn't any of his business, and he could always file a noise complaint if it got out of hand. The last thought to cross his mind before he fell asleep, was of trying to remember if the neighbors had dogs at all.