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*EEEEEEEE* *BARK* *BARK* *YIIIIIP*

A cacophony of loud and squeaky barking filled the apartment. Miles had to press his finger into his opposite ear as he held the phone tight to his head.

“I don’t know where the occupant is,” he shouted over the raucous animal. “The door was open when I got here.”

He looked over to the fox that was on the floor in front of the sectional sofa and wondered how it had gotten so tangled up in a pile of laundry. It seemed unwilling to remove itself and was content being as mad and noisy as possible about its predicament.

“I already called animal control,” he replied hastily to the property manager on the other end of the line. “They are busy and said they’ll get here as soon as they feel like it.” Miles nearly spat in disgust at their lack of urgency.

A muffled voice could be heard from the receiver in between the screaming of the fox, making further requests for Miles’ help.

“Yeah, I can watch over the situation while security gets here.” he reluctantly agreed.

It was preposterous that the property manager was asking him to watch over another tenant's home. If he was a less honest man, there would be nothing stopping him from rifling through the apartment for valuables.

He looked down at the fox, meeting its golden gaze. It kept screaming at him, flashing its fangs and looking like it wanted him to leave, but he wasn’t going to until animal control arrived and took care of it.

This was the last thing he needed after a long day’s work. He had only finished climbing the steps to his floor when he heard the sounds of screaming on the floor above. Heroically bolting into action, he launched up the next flight only to find the screams was coming from a pair of foxes that had managed to get into an apartment. It wasn’t clear how the door had been opened, but he didn’t see any indication the door had been jimmied open or valuables removed. Despite him blocking the way, one of the foxes fearlessly darted between his legs and out the door, carrying a backpack in its jaws. The other fox remained behind to keep screeching at the top of its lungs.

“Sir, can you keep your pets quiet?” a harassed voice from the neighboring unit called out. “We’re trying to sleep here!” Miles turned to see a bespectacled old woman peering from her door.

“It’s not a pet, it’s a fox,” Miles corrected her impatiently, returning her tone. “Animal control is on its way.”

The woman gave a sour frown, but ducked back into her apartment without an additional comment. Irritation started mounting in the back of his mind, realizing he had taken on someone else's problem and now was getting chewed out for the effort.

“God, I need a cigarette,” he grumbled as he fished in his pocket. This set the fox off even more, and it started struggling to free itself from the clothing it had tangled itself up in.

“Ok, ok,” he said to the fox, holding his hands out where the fox could see them. Somehow, this did seem to ease the animal slightly. Not only was it constantly mad, it didn’t trust him hiding his hands in his pockets.

Briefly silent, the fox considered him for a moment, cocking its head to the side, as if trying to see Miles’ outstretched hands in a different light. Before it could make a decision, the sound of a light thump of paws in the bedroom caught its attention. Both the fox and Miles turned their heads to the room beyond the kitchen.

Miles hadn’t imagined that there could be more animals in the apartment. The fox near him had been so noisy that he forgot to check the back rooms. Walking past the fox, he stepped into the kitchen; taking care to close the freezer door that was hanging wide open, as well as to not step on the stray ice cubes from a fallen tray. He knew the layout of the unit, as it was simply a mirror image of his downstairs.

The back bedroom was lavishly decorated compared to his own. In the center of the wall, a large queen-sized bed filled most of the space, and two end tables flanked it on either side. A warm yellow glow illuminated the room from the two table lamps resting atop each of them. Rope lights dangled from the corners of the ceiling, adding an almost starry feel to the decor. To his left, a carpeted cat condo stood next to the open door, and sitting on the floor, a ginger cat gazed upward at him with curious green eyes.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The owner was nowhere to be found, and wild animals had broken into the apartment. He wasn’t sure if foxes would attack a house cat, but surely not a lot would stop them if they were hungry enough. Urgently, he bent down to pick up the lonesome pet, but before he could react, the cat got up and darted between his legs and out the bedroom door with its banded tail raised high. Miles spun around quickly to catch the cat, cursing himself for not simply closing the door.

“No! Wait, kitty!” Miles called after the cat. As if to tempt his worst fears, the cat beelined for the fox in the living room, daintily padding up to the intruder. Undeterred, the cat ignored Miles’ pleas and began affectionately rubbing up against the fox while the fox stared daggers up at Miles. A soft purr came from the cat, and the fox broke eye contact long enough to rub its muzzle against the friendly feline.

Miles didn’t know what to make of the scene before him. The two animals certainly knew each other, but there was no possible way the occupant could have gotten away with having such a loud and exotic pet in their unit. Carefully, he stepped around the two and stationed himself at the door. If these were pets, then the owner would be very upset if he let them out while overseeing the property.

Outside, the sound of a car door slammed in the parking lot below. The fox heard it too, and it perked its ears up and turned to look at Miles suspiciously.

*YAP*

The fox gave a single, questioning bark. Miles responded by taking a couple steps out the door to look over the railing. Just as he suspected, an animal control truck was parked below. Briefly, he watched as two men collected their gear from the back of the vehicle and marched toward the stairs.

“Finally, they’re here,” he said walking back into the apartment, exasperated.

*BARK*

The fox’s ears had gone flat in anger, and it was trying to stand up amid the clothing it had tangled itself in. Finally pulling itself free, it shakily stepped toward Miles menacingly.

*YIP* *COUGH* *COUGH* *BARK*

“Easy there,” Miles said quietly, trying to ease the angry beast. Behind the fox, the cat had scampered back to the bedroom.

Pulling back its black lips, the fox flashed its glistening white fangs before opening its maw wide. Behind it, the fox’s tail curled downwards and clenched tightly to its hind leg. Hobbling forward, the fox advanced on Miles, screeching and yipping angerly.

The last thing Miles wanted right now was to get bit by an irate animal. Swiftly flinging his hand out, he gripped the doorknob next to him and swung the door closed as he stepped backwards out of the unit. Furious screams from the animal could be heard through the wall, and he felt a light shudder as it threw itself against it. Before he could collect his thoughts about what to do next, a deep voice boomed out next to him.

“Are you the one that called Animal Control?” said a uniformed man with a thick bushy mustache.

Had Miles backpedaled a step further, he would have collided with the two officers as he fled the apartment. Regaining some composure, Miles confirmed with a nod and gestured toward the door he was still gripping. “The fox is in there.”

Nodding to each other, the two officers readied their equipment. One held a catchpole and animal carrier, while the other brandished what looked like a syringe on the end of a spear. Turning to Miles, they both stared at him expectantly.

“Would you mind stepping out of the way?” the mustached man asked Miles politely, but with an air of impatience.

Dumbly, Miles backed away from the door, finally releasing the doorknob and letting the two men rush past. Not wasting a second, the Animal Control officers swiftly swept in, leaving no chance for the fox to dash past them after the door was swung wide.

From outside the apartment, Miles heard the officers address the animal.

“Easy there, little fella,” one of them cooed softly.

“Tag and bag ‘em?” asked the other aloud.

“Sure as shit not gonna waste time chasing it around the room! Let’s get this over so I can go home tonight. Go for it.”

The sounds of the clasp of the catchpole catching and the snarls of the fox reached Miles’ ears, followed by a sudden yip as the tranquilizer was jabbed into it. Moments later, the metallic clatter of the door of the animal carrier latching could be heard.

As quickly as it had started, the two officers exited the apartment, now hefting a filled carrier. Bidding Miles farewell, their heavy industrial boots thudded loudly on the balcony flooring as they marched down the stairs and back to their truck.

Miles breathed a sigh of relief. Peering into the apartment one last time through the open door, he scanned the cluttered room for signs of the cat. It appeared to have returned to its hiding place in the bedroom, leaving him with little to worry about. Just as he was about to swing the door closed one last time and return home, he looked down. To the right of the entryway, a woman’s purse sat discarded on the floor, a set of keys laying on top of it rather than carefully buried inside. A tingle in the back of Miles’ mind prodded at him. If the occupant’s keys were still inside, she may have been out for a quick walk, and he didn’t want to lock her out of her home. He had already intruded enough. Instead, he ensured the door was unlocked before he closed it tightly, hoping the owner would return soon.

---

The first tingling of consciousness began to trickle into the fox’s mind as she slept. First, she was acutely aware of the warm morning sun beating down on her. The next thing she understood was the sounds of the wind rustling the tall grass in the field she was resting in. Some distance away, the heavy falls of boots could be heard, each step muffled by the verdant earth underneath their soles. There was a *thunk* of a car door closing, an engine starting, and then a crunch of soil and stone as the vehicle revved its engine and drove beyond her perception.

She lay there for some time, unable to open her eyes as the sedative coursed through her veins. No thoughts or dreams ran through her head, but she knew it was urgent she wake up as soon as possible. Something terrible was unfolding, and she had to be awake to stop it.

Warmed by the sun and cooled by a light breeze, she remained immobile for another half hour before she managed to pry one eye open. Iris contracted to a tight slit in the bright sun, it’s golden gaze met the outdoor world for the first time. All around her was a large grassy field, its many blades towered above where her head rested. In the distance, a tree line could be seen, offering her shade and protection if she could manage to work her way over to it.

With a start, her senses flooded back to her, and she lifted her head from the matted grass, only to let it fall once more as nausea from the sedative threatened to make her vomit. It was like waking up after an all-night bender, but no drunken stupor could have explained the memories that were flooding back in her mind.

The last sober thought she could remember was suddenly noticing a sleeping fox atop a seat on the bus last night. She should have acted with terror or apprehension at seeing a wild animal on the transit, but instead she felt herself getting up to sit next to it. Stroke it, coddle it. She was telling it things it wanted to hear, and she brought it home once the bus reached her stop. All she could remember after that was the unspeakable acts she found herself committing, and then... and then... she had turned into a fox!

She sat bolt upright, heart leaping as she realized she hadn’t dreamt it, and the funny feeling all over her body wasn’t all from the sedatives. Adrenaline forced back the effects of the drugs, and she found herself staring at two black furred paws bracing herself up from the ground.

Curiously, she tried flexing the digits on her paws, and she watched them bunch up and dig their claws into the soil in response. However, their range of motion was far more limited than she had hoped: thick pads on what used to be her palms rubbed against the leathery tips of her former fingers. She felt her heart sink as despair started to settle in. Out of one last act of defiance, she swiped a paw at a grass reed, hoping to catch it in between her pads and hold it in her grasp, but she merely batted it away like Toby playing with his cat toy.

Toby! She panicked. He had been left alone in her apartment, and now that she was an animal too, no one would be around to feed him! Urgently, she climbed to all fours, placing her dainty fox toes on the grass and standing up fully for the first time since she had been placed outside. It was an overwhelming feeling, being small, furred, and naked, but at least her head was still above this grass, and she could see the road some fifty feet away. Still woozy from the sedative, she took her first steps heading toward civilization.

The journey was halted immediately as her bushy tail rubbed on some stalks of grass, sending new and strange sensations up her spine. Shock and surprise gripped her, and it was hard to tell which leaped harder: her heart, or her entire body as she screamed a high-pitched yap and flew through the air!

She landed nearly ten feet away from where she had been standing, shaking in terror at the new feelings that startled her. It took another second of untangling the mess of fur and flailing legs she had become before noticing her bushy white tipped tail fearfully clinging to her side. A tail! Of course she had a tail, and it had scared the bejesus out of her! Swooning at the revelation of how complete her transformation had been, she rolled onto her side and panted hard, her tongue lolling out while she listened to her heart beating rapidly in her ears.

It was at least five minutes later before she felt calm enough to pull herself together again. Tentatively, she tried swishing her tail a few times, just to get used to the new feelings it was giving her. Once satisfied she wasn’t going to panic again, she pulled herself up on all fours and made for the road, determined to find a house or landmark she could use to find her way home to save Toby. Her keen hearing told her she wasn’t far from civilization, but unnoticed by the vixen, a pair of golden eyes watched from the safety of the trees as she made to leave the grassy field.

Placing a paw on the graying asphalt of the road, the vixen looked both ways and tried to get her bearings. Beneath her, the road was warm but unwelcoming; its sunbaked surface smelled strongly of tar and industry, an odor she could barely tolerate with her new darkened nose. Still, it was the only point of reference for finding civilization once more, and hiding in the brush like a scared animal would not help her or her cat at all. Deeply, she wished she knew which direction to head, and hopefully she would find a landmark she recognized. Finally, she settled on heading east, trusting an instinctual feeling in her gut rather than choosing at random. After all, she could always turn around if needed. She only needed one definite landmark to guide her.

Quickly, she trotted along the road, feeling her new claws scrape the pavement every couple steps. Four-footed travel had come quickly and naturally to her, and it was a bit less tiring than walking upright. As she made her way down the road, she could feel her head clearing from the sedative, and more memories from last night started to flood back.

It was like being woken up from a dream, but the nightmare had only begun. She could see herself grabbing a broom to shoo the fox out of her apartment, and then that very same broom popping out of her hands as they changed into paws. Before she knew it, she was tangled in a pile of her own clothing and shrieking with an animalistic voice that wasn’t her own. The fox had then leapt past her and somehow opened the freezer, causing all of her food to fall on him.

She smirked gleefully, remembering a moment where he took a heavy bag of frozen chicken to the face. The asshole deserved far worse for what he did to her, but she hoped he would still be feeling the bruises this morning.

Then she remembered watching the fox nip each package and load her food into his backpack, and a cold chill rippled down her spine and raised her hackles. Backpack..., she snorted out loud and stopped on the spot to collect her thoughts. The fox had a backpack, and it carefully loaded food into it, just as she would have to now as a fox. Was the fox also a human like her?

Astonishment melted away into anger. If the fox was also a former human, he should have asked her for help! She could still understand human speech and it likely was the same with him. It would have been no problem adopting him if he had only told her! Instead, he stole the food he had been offered and turned her into an animal as well! What an asshole!

She resumed her trek, now fuming. If she ever found that fox again, she would make sure he regretted ever meeting her for the rest of his fox life!

Her thirst for vengeance began to fade almost immediately as a parade of questions flew through her mind. How long do foxes live? Did he have to steal her food? What if she was hungry and had to steal food herself, repeating the same mistakes as him? Did he not know how to hunt as a fox? Did she know how to hunt for prey when she got hungry?

The idea of hunting small prey unnerved her to the core. She had always been something of a hippy, not wanting to harm nature and work with it in harmony, but she also knew her limitations and lived in the city for good reason. Given the choice between learning to hunt or stealing food, she would have to learn to hunt, just as nature intended. Solemnly, she swore to herself that stealing was wrong, even for a fox, and she was never going to do it, lest she repeats the same thing the asshole fox did to her!

In between her thoughts, the sound of a car approaching from behind whispered on the cool morning air. The vixen felt her heart leap in panic, and she dove into the tall grass growing from the drainage ditch. She had an instinctual need to not be seen like this: naked, alone, and most embarrassingly, as a fox. Poking her head out from the grass, she watched and waited for the car to drive by. As she waited, her thoughts drifted again to Toby. He had recognized her as a fox, and he had accepted her. She couldn’t leave him alone in that apartment, not if she had to live in the wild as an animal. Maybe, together, they could return to these woods and learn to hunt. Live off the land like her hippie ideals always wanted, but as a fox and cat instead.

Speeding by, the car finally passed the vixen in her hiding spot, its exhaust leaving a putrid stench for her as she climbed up the embankment. It dissipated quickly, but in its wake, the vixen started to feel the pangs of hunger in her belly, spurred on by the thoughts of hunting food. She would have to learn to hunt sooner than later if she was to keep her energy up to rescue Toby.

Within minutes, the answer to her hunger reached her fuzzy ears: the sound of a rooster crowing could be heard in the distance. A mouthwatering sensation flooded her muzzle as her vulpine instincts enticed her to investigate the nearby farmhouse. Normally, her daily breakfast consisted of yogurt and granola, but today, it would be birdflesh.

Following the sounds of the rooster and the scents of livestock hanging on the air, the vixen arrived at the farmhouse’s gravel driveway. It was a modern two-story home with white painted walls and tall, sharp eaves that seemed to stretch above her like skyscrapers. A single black SUV was parked next to the garage door. For a moment, she pondered how to approach the home, as it was surrounded by a large grassy field and there was not a lot of cover for protection. A sickly tart smell of chicken dung hung in the air, urging her to sneak closer and claim her breakfast.

Slinking closer while sticking to the tallest grass at the edge of the property, the vixen craned and twisted her black ears, listening for any activity in the house. As far as she could tell, the owners weren’t awake yet in these early daylight hours. Just as she reached the back end of the large yard and spotted the coop, there was a low rumble in the house from the sounds of footfalls on the wooden flooring, followed by a static hiss of plumbing running a tap. Evidently, someone just got into the shower. She would have to make this meal fast!

Leaving the safety of the grass, she darted across the perfectly manicured lawn to the small structure that was home for the chickens. Heart racing, a feral thrill started to pump through her veins as excitement and anticipation made her quake. Now standing in front of the door to the coop, the smell of the chickens was overwhelming, and she could feel her tail sway happily.

The coop itself was a very basic shelter, hardly more than a shed with a very tiny chicken-sized door on the front. She sniffed curiously at the door, letting the intoxicating scent of her prey fill her mind, but her presence was already causing a stir within the coop. Twisting her ears back toward the house, she could still hear the plumbing running, so she knew she still had time. The coop door itself was fastened with a simple sliding lock, enough to confuse most animals, but not enough to deter her, even with her paws being so limited as they were.

Awkwardly, she pawed at the metal lock until she felt its grip work its way between her padded digits, and then she slid it open, allowing the portal to fly wide. Immediately, she lunged through the hole and into the coop.

The odor of chicken dung was overpowering, but before the vixen could take a breath, all hell broke loose. Wings and feathers were flapping and flying everywhere. Shelves of chickens were clucking and screaming from every direction, and amid the fray, a gray rooster charged forward stupidly and fearlessly at the intruding fox.

The vixen winced back at the sudden assault, flailing her paws, squinting her golden eyes, and tucking back her black ears, but the bird was not deterred. Flapping his wings wildly, he jumped and flew at her face, trying to peck every vulnerable spot he could reach and pulling out chunks of orange fur. The rest of the hens fled to the rear of the coop and huddled against the chicken wire wall, trapped inside with the dangerous predator that had brazenly entered their home.

Defending herself from the rooster, the vixen shouted out with a high-pitched yip, Stop! Unexplainably, the rooster stopped and then stood in front of her, folding his wings back and no longer showing any willingness to fight or put any effort into deterring her from eating his hens. Their eyes met, and while there was anger in the copper eyes of the rooster, he made no motion to continue attacking the vixen.

Taking advantage of the calm bird, the vixen nudged the rooster over onto his side with her paw, then pressed down hard to hold him in place while exposing his neck for her to clamp her jaws onto. Slowly, she bent down to finish off the chicken, but before she could, she felt the rising breath and thrumming heartbeat of the animal she had pinned under her rough pads. Suddenly, this whole hunting thing seemed a little too cruel for her. She had never harmed anything like this before. Evidently, being a fox wasn’t going to make cruelty easier.

It’s OK, she began to psych herself up. I’m a fox. I’m a fox! I can do this!

Looking down at the defenseless bird, she realized that she really couldn’t. Gently, she lifted her paw, and the rooster quickly got to its feet and fluttered to the flock of hens at the back of the coop.

She was still hungry, but she wasn’t ready to kill for a meal just yet. Looking to her left, she caught sight of a white orb nestled among some straw in one of the nesting pens. Gingerly, she reached her head into the pen and picked up the abandoned egg between her fangs. Taking it to the wooden floor of the coop, she dropped it to crack its shell open, and then ravenously licked at the runny yolk that started to leak out. It didn’t satisfy her the same as the hunk of meat she was craving, but at least she didn’t need to kill anything to get food today.

One of the hens stepped forward aggressively, wanting to protect her eggs, but a fiendish look from the fox convinced her to huddle back with the rest of the chickens. None of the birds ever stopped shrieking, but the vixen had become numb to their cacophony while she ate. Before the vixen left the coop, she lapped up three more eggs, satisfying her hunger further. Licking her whiskers, she turned around and squeezed through the small door, leaving every chicken alive and unharmed.

Fresh air filled her black nostrils now that she was clear from the smelly coop, and she felt a sudden stillness and peace now that there weren’t any shrieking birds around her. Just as she turned to head back toward the road, she realized there was something different. A man, half shaven and wearing a maroon plaid overshirt was standing partway between the house and the coop, pointing a rifle straight at her.

She froze, completely stunned by his sudden appearance. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and she saw there was no mercy in his expression. Wordlessly, the man pulled the trigger, and a loud crack rang out in the back yard. Something nipped her side, but she didn’t stay to find out what it was. Breaking the spell and dashing at full speed, she ran for the road, trying to put as much distance from the man and his weapon. Clicks and clacks of the gun being cocked echoed behind her before two more shots rang out. Speeding down the gravel driveway and across the road, she dove into a sparse bush for cover.

Heart racing and panting so hard her tongue curled out of her muzzle, she hid in the bushes, waiting to catch her breath from the sheer terror from the encounter. That man had just tried to kill her over a dollar’s worth of eggs! She couldn’t believe how callous he was! She should go back there and eat a chicken just for the nerve of it all! In some small part, it was her fault. She forgot herself while being indecisive in the coop. Had she gotten in and out like she intended, the man wouldn’t have had time to finish his shower and get his gun.

As she lay there in the bush settling down, a throbbing pain started jabbing her on her left side. She shifted her weight, thinking she was laying on a sharp rock, but that’s when the coppery scent of blood, lots of it, hit her nose. Gingerly, she pulled herself up to her paws, feeling the throb turn into a piercing stab. Dust and dirt clung to her fur from a sticky puddle that had been spreading steadily.

Christ, I’ve been shot! She squealed. He really did kill her over a handful of eggs! The wound on her side was leaking profusely, matting down her orange fur with a crimson stream. She had been so riled up that she didn’t even notice how much blood she had lost, and she realized she was already starting to feel a bit cold and numb. No, no! Not like this! She whimpered. She had been a fox for a matter of hours, and she had been dealt a mortal wound in the time it took her to get coffee on a regular day. Her head began to swim and feel light, and she reluctantly laid down, resting her muzzle on her paws, unable to do anything else to save herself. Even if there was someone near to help her, she couldn’t speak to them anymore.

She never thought it would end like this, dying as a fox on the side of the road, but she hadn’t put much time thinking about death either. No one was going to find her, and no one would have recognized her either. She just hoped someone would find Toby before he starved to death too. Slowly, her vision started to tunnel into blackness, and the last thing she thought about was how much she wished she could have helped Toby, and how much she wished she didn’t get shot.

*WISH*

An immediate feeling of euphoria flooded through her, and a blue light replaced the blackness in her vision. The light flowed from her eyes like wisps, and then ribbons of blue coalesced around the gushing wound on her side. Euphoria turned to a jolt of energy as her adrenaline hit again, this time forcing her to stay conscious while the pain in her side faded quickly to a light throb. She watched as the wound started mending itself closed, bloodied and torn flesh being replaced with healthy pink skin, which in turn regrew its orange fur. From within the closing wound, a misshapen ball of silvery metal started to protrude, squeezed out from the inside as her injury healed itself fully. With a heavy plop, it fell on the dirt next to her, and aside from the sticky blood on her fur, there was no more indication she had been shot at all!

It was a miracle! Without a thought about staying hidden, she rolled onto her side and started giggling merrily with her tail thrashing excitedly in the dusty ground. She was alive! Somehow, inexplicably, her wound healed itself as if by magic. In fact, that light looked magical all on its own.

A prickly feeling formed at the back of her skull as her mind started to piece it all together: Magic was actually real! It had turned her into a fox and healed her when she needed its aid. How long had such a power been hiding in the world before she encountered it last night? If only she wasn’t a fox now, she could have told all of her girlfriends!

Her thoughts were interrupted as a horrible emptiness flooded into her stomach. An insatiable hunger tore at her insides, and she wanted nothing more than to run back to the chicken coop and gorge on the chickens there, especially now that she knew she was bullet proof. Just as she started to climb the embankment to the road, rationality returned to her, and she decided to follow the road east once more. There was no telling the limits of the magic that was protecting her, and the chances of something going wrong were too high. Taking one last look at the house with its bounty of chickens hiding behind it, she turned away, wondering why she eagerly hungered to challenge the homeowner as well.

The sun rose higher in the sky while she trekked along. Her pace was slow, weakened by the emptiness inside her gut, and every few minutes she had to dive off the side of the road to avoid being sighted by the passing cars. To her relief, the ravenous hunger she felt eventually became detached, and eventually subsided, almost as if it didn’t belong to her. It had dissipated almost entirely when she finally spotted it: a landmark she recognized! Country Corner Market.

It was a decrepit building, weathered with age and a long history with the rural area it rested in. Painted red, it was barely more impressive than a renovated shed, but it had been converted from an old logger’s house into a store by the proprietor. Out front, a portly balding man with a dark moustache and wearing a white apron was pulling an empty pallet display in through the front door. Even from the road, she could read the signage to see it had been a display of dog beds. Maybe, once she rescued Toby, she could come back here and get a pet bed for them to share if the store had a habit of leaving them outdoors. But that was stealing, and she had promised herself to avoid it. More importantly, now she knew where she was, and it meant she still had ten, maybe even twelve miles to get back to her apartment. It was not going to be an easy trip, even on four paws, and it likely would be nearing nightfall by the time she reached Toby. Still, the thought of saving her cat throbbed within her, and she let out an excited yip before scurrying across the street and following the northward road back to her city.

---

Taking her time, the vixen headed north along the side of the road into the suburbs. It had been nearly two miles since she had seen the general store, and the empty grassy fields had given way to well-spaced suburban housing, leaving her with fewer opportunities to hide when cars passed. As she pulled herself out of a dry culvert from a large city bus driving by, she noticed thirst and dehydration were quickly becoming a concern. Her large tongue was sticking to the ridged roof of her muzzle like it had been glued in place. She hadn’t had anything to drink today, and scurrying around in the warm sun while covered in fur was taking its toll. It was hard to be certain, but she didn’t think the magic that had saved her from the gunshot wound had done anything to replace her lost fluids, even if it had prevented her from bleeding out. If she didn’t rehydrate soon, she would be a goner anyway, magic or not.

Trotting along the sidewalk, she scuffed her hind claw on an uneven slab, its edge jutting high above the next due to the roots of a nearby tree. Hobbling for a moment to recover from her stubbed paw, she stopped to take in her surroundings. The road was wide but old, its sides smattered with cars that had been parallel parked overnight and covered in a spiderwebbing of tar to seal the cracks that formed from the years of weather. Chain link and white picket fences flanked each side of the road, penning in each home owners’ green grassy yards. All she needed was to find was one with a running sprinkler, or maybe even a running hose she could chomp if it meant quenching her thirst.

Despite all the green lawns around her, it didn’t appear any were being watered right now, leaving her to choose a house at random. Taking the nearest house with an unfenced yard, she dove into a large rhododendron bush to keep herself hidden while looking for a water spigot. There was little chance that being spotted would mean getting shot here in the suburbs, but she still didn’t want to risk it.

Hunting along the side of the house, the musty scent of wet earth hit her dry black nose, along with the sweet scents of flowers and herbs. Instinctually, she knew she had found the right place, but even the heralding of her nose couldn’t have prepared her for what she saw once she rounded the back corner.

An immense garden hung before her. Rows upon rows of above-ground cedar planter boxes held an array of vegetables and spices while raised over them was an ivy-covered trellis, which offered enough shade to garden under, but not block out the sun entirely. Along the edges of the yard, large brown clay pots held juvenile saplings and giant blooming bouquets of flowers. In between each row of planters, a stone walkway had been embedded in the ground, keeping every corner of the garden as neat and tidy as possible.

The vixen let out an excited squeak. There couldn’t have been a better house to find water at within a mile! Darting in between the middle planter boxes to find a hose, a new smell hit her dark nose, and she froze in her tracks. The unmistakable odor of a dog was here, and her hackles immediately rose in fear. Slowly, carefully, she backed down the aisle and turned around, only to come face-to-face with another canine, one just as large as she was, looking straight at her from the patio window, its hackles raised and ears pulled back in alarm!

She let out another audible squeak of surprise from seeing the animal before she realized the canine was her own reflection in the glass. Stunned, she looked upon the figure lit up by the mid-noon sun filtering through the ivy trellises. It was a fox, and it was her. Not even a day of running around on all fours had readied her for seeing herself look this way. Every motion she made, the fox in the window mirrored as well. It felt just as alien as discovering her own tail this morning.

Behind her, there was a light rustle and a snort, and a distorted reflection of something at the other end of the garden rose up. Tearing her eyes off her own image, she spun around and saw a great mass of brown and black fur rising up. It was a German shepherd, and it was looking right at her with its tall ears at attention.

She never really knew what saved her. Perhaps it was that the lazy dog sunbathing had slowed its reaction to seeing her next to his house. Maybe it was between looking at herself mirrored in the glass and turning around to face the dog that she had noticed the locking door flap, but before she realized what she was doing, she dashed as fast as she could at the open dog door at the side of the patio slider. There was a loud *bang* as her furry orange body slammed into the side of its threshold just as there was a loud *boom* of the giant dog colliding with the glass next to it. The next thing she knew, there was a loud *crash* of the metal security sheet sliding closed over the door to prevent intruders from sneaking in through the dog door, as if the large German Shepherd wasn’t enough to protect the home.

The dog threw itself against the patio door, barking and frothing from the mouth at the fox that had just locked him out of his home. All she could do is watch the vicious animal leap up again and again, his black muzzle opening to show off his sharp white fangs with every booming bark and flinging saliva across the glass. If not for the barrier between them, there was little doubt those teeth would be rending her from limb to fluffy tail.

She let out a sigh of relief, and felt her hackles relax now that she was out of immediate danger. The dog was still furious as hell, something Toby would never have done if he somehow could have gotten as mad as this monster, but after he threw himself at the window a few more times, the Vixen noticed the small black plastic box attached to the dog’s collar.

Invisible fencing! She squeaked aloud.

That explained why there wasn’t a fence to stop her from getting into the garden. Still, was it responsible for the owner to leave such a violent creature that kind of freedom? If she lived here, she would have demanded the owner do something significantly more to keep the neighborhood safe!

She shook her head dismissively. The neighborhood will have to deal with the dog on their own terms. No one would ever be able to listen to her again now that she had been turned into an animal. For now, the most important thing was to get the water she desperately needed.

Turning around, she surveyed the room she had broken into. It was mostly empty, aside from a loveseat against the far wall, almost as if the owner wanted to treat this space as a makeshift sunroom to observe the garden outside. The smell of dog was thick on the soft carpet under her paws, assuring her that this was every bit his territory that she was intruding on.

Beyond the dog’s loveseat was a large open space that was a combination kitchen, dining room, and living room with a window out to the front yard. As she trotted out of sight of the dog furiously banging against the patio window, she was dazzled with the widest display of houseplants she had ever seen. Every counter top, table, and cabinetry had potted greenery spread over it. Dog’s room or not, if the owner got any more plants for his house, he would have to start filling the empty room with any additions he gathered. As it was now, being in this house was almost like being in a jungle. A jungle with a tap to quench her parched muzzle.

Approaching the sink, she stood on her hind paws to try to see where she could get up on the counter. It appeared there was room for her next to the kitchen towel hanging from the side of the sink. Dropping to all fours with a clack of her claws on the hard wood floor, she spun around in a circle once to orient herself properly. Squatting back on her haunches, she thrust her legs hard, launching herself into the air like she had in the field earlier in the day. Her aim was perfect, and she landed on the edge of the counter with her forepaws making only a light thump on the surface. However, her hind paws landed on the hanging towel, and they slid backwards from the towel slipping down to the floor, bringing her rear and then the rest of her with it.

Ow! She whimpered with a vulpine squeak. The counter had caught her chest and the tip of her chin as she had fallen backwards. It was fortunate she was so light now, because that could have seriously hurt her if she had fallen like that as a human. Undeterred, she scrabbled to her paws once more, and attempted the jump again, now without a towel to foul her landing.

Her landing space was still cramped, but with her forepaws in the bottom of the steel basin, she managed to plant herself safely this time. Nudging the lever on the faucet with her nose, a stream of cold refreshing water issued forth. Greedily, she lapped at the water until she could drink no more, quenching her thirst from a long trip through the countryside and replenishing her fluid loss from her injury. Below her, her black furred paws were cold and wet from being under the tap, but they too felt invigorated being washed clean from the grime and dust of the road. As one last measure, she brought her hind paws into the sink, allowing herself a therapeutic sensation of cleanliness she had been missing on her travels. Her fluffy tail dangled over the edge of the counter as she practically sat on the sink wall, indulging in what may be her last opportunity to enjoy the conveniences of human life. After a few revitalizing and pensive minutes, she was ready to finish her journey back to her apartment.

Courteously, she nudged off the tap, something she realized a normal fox wouldn’t bother with had it gotten this far. Being an animal didn’t mean she had to waste clean water! Taking care not to slip, she leapt from the sink, leaving sopping wet paw prints on the wooden floor. Outside, muffled by the walls of the house, she heard the jangle of the dog’s collar, brought to alertness at the sound of her moving around. He had stopped his rabid barking with her out of sight, but he was still on guard and waiting for her to show herself once more. Padding softly, and trying to keep her claws from scraping the floor, she left the kitchen and started down the nearby hallway, hoping to find an open or unlocked window that she could escape through.

She half expected to pop in on someone sleeping as she explored the house, but thankfully, the owner seemed to be out for the day. Unfortunately, this meant all the windows were closed and locked tight in every room, leaving her only way to escape to be the one she used to get inside. Dashing back over to the front door, she stood up on her hind legs and tried gnawing at the knob to see if she could turn it, but it too was locked tight, its twisting button mechanism too small and delicate for her clumsy paws to turn.

Cursing her luck, she desperately darted over to the dining table, grabbing one of the chairs by the leg and tugging it over to the door inch by inch. This put her in line of sight for a moment with the dog outside, and catching her rearranging furniture was enough to make him resume his furious barking and howling from the patio window. As she lined the chair up against the door, she heard several clanks from the dog clawing the security shield that blocked the dog flap. She had to hurry before the dog decided he hated her presence more than the obstacle blocking him.

Having a little more height from the chair helped a lot, and she made short work of the deadbolt with her bare paws, but the stubborn twisting button wouldn’t budge, even when using her fangs to nip at it. It was recessed too deeply into the end of the knob that all she could do is give the door an awkward tongue bath. Dropping from the chair, she looked out the large front window at the grassy lawn and the dusty street only a few paces away. If only she could get outside...

Panic started to settle in as she realized she was in real trouble now. Not only was she a wild animal locked in someone’s house, but as soon as the owner came home, there was no telling what they would let their dog do to her. The best she could hope for was being returned to the field outside of town if they were nice and called animal control again, and that certainly would leave Toby alone even longer than she wanted.

Running across the room to the kitchen, she hopped up again to the sink, and started pawing at the window frantically, hoping she could get it open, even if it led to the yard with a guard dog waiting. One errant swipe against the glass fell low, and it knocked a small potted plant off the sill, which dominoed into three others, knocking rich black soil all over the counter and onto the floor below.

The loud crashing of terracotta caused her blackened ears to flinch, but it also signaled to her that she needed to calm down. Ok, Stella, you’re smarter than this. You can get out of anything! She affirmed to herself. Glancing over the mess she made, a white plastic box attached to the wall that had been obscured by the plants caught her attention: It was a landline phone! Taking care to not upset any more small potted plants, she jabbed and nipped at the phone until it fell off the hook and landed on the counter. Cocking her head curiously at it, it was an old cordless receiver of a type she had abandoned some ten or fifteen years back. The rubber number pad faced upwards at her, as well as three colorful speed dial buttons for emergency services. Bingo! She knew what she had to do.

Clasping the receiver in her fangs, she leapt from the counter once more and made for the center of the room. Getting the acoustics right was critical to pulling this off. Looking around the room, she made sure that the phone was in view of the front window, as well as near enough to the barking dog outside. Taking one final breath, she placed a padded digit on the Talk button, and pressed it to open the line. A low hum of a dial tone sounded from the receiver in response. Rocking her black claw onto the Police button, she heard the hum turn into three beeps of the auto-dialer calling 911. It was showtime.

“911, what is your emergency?”

Reflexively, the vixen almost tried replying in English, but stopped herself just in time. Instead, she ran down the hall away from the receiver, and started screeching at the top of her lungs, exactly as she had last night in her apartment. The animalistic sounds leaving her mouth sounded enough like someone getting murdered that she hoped dispatch would send a deputy.

“Ma’am?” she heard the voice on the other end of the receiver call out. “Ma’am, are you injured? Do you need assistance?”

She could only bark the same way before it would start sounding like an animal call. Urgently, she rushed back to the kitchen and launched herself onto the counter again, knocking as many plants onto the floor as possible. Outside, the dog started roaring once more, driven mad by the ruckus she was creating inside.

“Ok ma’am, hang tight. I’m sending officers now,” said the dispatcher from the receiver. “Stay on the line as long as you can!”

The vixen had no intention of risking spoiling the ruse if she made the wrong noise. As convincing as her performance was, it would only take the sound of an animalistic sniff or snort to risk them calling the whole thing off. Sliding down from the counter, she put her paw on the Talk button and closed the line, hoping her scraping claws on the plastic wouldn’t register on the other end. Now all she had to do was wait.

Golden eyes surveyed the room. There was the large window in front of the house that could see everything in the living room and kitchen areas, but it had to look like a crime scene once the cops got here, otherwise there would be no way she would be let out. Instead of returning to the countertop, the vixen climbed on top of the dining table and pushed a few plants off with her nose, smashing the clay pots against the wooden floor. Using her paws, she dug at the clumps of dirt and rust-colored shards and flung them around the dining area in view of the window. Outside, the dog responded to her noisy antics by bashing against the door shield again, but now he was gnawing and tearing at it while barking loudly for all to hear. If the cops didn’t get here soon, she may have more trouble than simply being trapped in a house.

Patiently, she huddled down under the table, which was in line with the front door. Once the cops arrived, it was unlikely they would notice her from the window, but she had to make a mad dash for the door after they opened it. It was a little too far for comfort, but she didn’t see a better place to wait out of sight.

Her ears craned back and forth to the door up front and the dog barking and scratching at the rear. He had enough of her intrusion, and he wasn’t stopping until he got inside. The orange fur on her tail bristled with anticipation, and the hackles on her neck rippled each time the German Shepherd’s claws pulled and pried at the security shield. Her plan was about to fall apart as soon as he breached the door and she would need to seek shelter out of reach of the dog. Nowhere in the house would be safe from a dog that could jump as high as her, or large enough to push around furniture if she hid under it. The best backup idea she had was to lock herself in the bathroom, which could only end in a call to animal control if she hid there. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but it was better than being savaged by that beast.

A sensation of relief washed over her and her large ears picked up the faint squeal of brakes outside. There was a car parked at the curb, and two car doors had slammed after it had stopped. It had to be the cops!

Footfalls landed on the cement walkway in the front yard, and faint shadows loomed over the big front window as the shapes of two men diverted the natural light that filtered in.

“Is this the address?” asked a voice quietly on the other side of the door. A radio hissed its reply, dispatch confirming they were at the right place.

“There’s no cars out front,” murmured another voice.

“That dog is going crazy,” said the first voice. Covertly, the cop leaned to the side of the door and peered in through the front window, finally revealing the face of a uniformed officer to the fox hiding under the table. “It barking like something is up, and it’s a mess inside.”

A second man walked around in full view of the window and looked inside too. “There’s a chair propped up against the door,” the fox heard him remark.

Three loud bangs hammered against the door, and the first officer shouted, “City Police! Open up!”

This made the dog outside fully enraged, and the fox heard it tearing harder to get inside. He sounded very close to breaking in. If only she could encourage the cops to enter now, but her scream would sound too animalistic if she tried it now.

“Probable cause?” asked the first officer.

“Probable cause,” confirmed the second.

Another loud bang sounded through the house as each officer shoulder-checked the door, the second fell inside and stumbled over the chair left inside the entryway. For whatever reason, the door hadn’t been locked and it swung open freely as soon as the first cop bashed it.

Before the vixen could react to the door opening and dash through the tangle of bodies and chairs in her way, there was a loud metallic snap in the adjacent room, and with a patter of paws, a large German Shepherd came bolting into the room. He saw the officers and lunged at them, determined to protect his home.

Wasting no more time, the fox left her hiding spot under the table and rushed toward the door, barely brushing the dog and kicking off the officers’ backs as she leapt through the air over the bundle of bodies and out the open door. She was free once more!

Determined to catch the fox, the dog shoved past the stumbling cops and bolted down the front path after her. His chase ended almost immediately as he passed the invisible fence, and the vixen heard a pained yip behind her as she scampered away down the road once more, freed from the home she had locked herself into.

Her paws carried her down the street faster than ever before. She had lost a lot of time in the house, and she was concerned about reaching her apartment before nightfall. Panting hard and tongue hanging out of her muzzle, she began to slow once her paws started to hurt on the abrasive and hot pavement.

Maybe nightfall was too ambitious of a goal, but she still had the trip back to the forest to worry about. The further she got from the woods, the more uncomfortable she felt, as if the safety they provided were calling to her. Once she had her cat, she would be able to think a little more clearly on where to live. Maybe Toby’s needs would help her choose the best place for both of them.

Stopping for some shade in a bush between two homes, she flopped down, letting her long tongue loll out of her muzzle as she heaved and panted. For now, once she caught her breath, she would stick to the side roads and greenbelts on her way into the city. It would be a safer path, one more similar the place she would eventually call home. A later arrival time did mean there would be more cover for her in the dark of night, and her paws wouldn’t ache so much on the heated asphalt. Eventually, her panting subsided, and chest swelling with hope for the future, she stood up and shook off the twigs and leaves hanging from her coat. Stepping out once more onto the road, she resumed her journey to rescue Toby.

---

She didn’t reach the apartment by nightfall, but this only helped her navigate the city streets easier. Ducking from shadow to shadow between each street lamp, she made her way through the filthy gray neighborhoods she once saw as home. Realizing her fur coat was colored a brilliant contrast to the surrounding landscape, she stuck to as many dark corners and quickly scampered under each streetlamp to keep from being seen. The expression “concrete jungle” so often used to describe the city floated to mind. Never before had the metaphor seemed so apt to her as she darted from cover to cover, trying to stay out of sight of the humans. It was important that no one saw her, because there was no telling what a human would do to her if they caught her.

Finding the arterial road her bus route had run on, the fox slank to the next block over, hoping the back roads would offer more cover and fewer prying eyes to see her.

One more mile, she squealed merrily to herself, taking a moment between panting to flick her pink tongue across her nose. Toby was very close now.

The last stretch was poorly lit, which gave her the cover she wanted as well as time to reflect on her journey today. She didn’t expect to make it this far, not after being shot nearly to death or trapped in a house while a violent dog waited menacingly outside. Her success felt almost magical, and perhaps it was. Never in her life did she think she could be turned into an animal, or heal a lethal wound in mere seconds, yet here she was after the craziest day imaginable.

It wasn’t even over yet. She still had to get Toby out of her apartment, and she assumed she would be heading back to the country the same way she came. That meant her trip was only half done and her adventure as a fox was just starting. Would Toby be safe with her as a fox? Could she find herself with a sudden urge to eat her cat if she got hungry? Was she going to stay a fox forever, or was this only temporary?

She shook her head as she padded across the cooling sidewalk, banishing the thoughts and questions from her mind. Cats are great hunters and can live independently, she would never harm Toby, and, she bristled as she knew the answer to her last question, there was no chance of her becoming human again. Something essential was torn from her before she changed, and there was no way to get it back. It was better to focus on not becoming roadkill than worrying if she would wake up as a human in the forest someday.

Three blocks later, she noticed the lightboard for the business plaza across the street: It was now 2AM. She had been a fox for a little over a day now, and most of that time had been spent traveling. Her single-minded desire to save Toby had kept her fatigue at bay, but seeing the clock read an hour she was not used to seeing reminded her that she needed to rest. Maybe she could quietly spend a day in her apartment and head out the following night. Fueled entirely on adrenaline, she pressed onwards, knowing rest was near.

Suddenly, before she realized it, she was darting past her bus stop. A faint whiff of the fox she found on the bus lingered on the pavement, and she dabbed her dark nose on the sidewalk, instinctive curiosity carrying her forward. Idly following the scent, she was led into the parking lot for her apartment complex and toward the stairs up to her unit.

Bathed in the dark of night, the building towered over her and stretched far from where she stood, taking up the circumference of the city block. Its imposing five story structure was painted a sky blue, and looked like it had been built to be a luxury motel rather than an apartment community. Had it been morning, she may have felt more welcomed by its pastel color, but now it was a dark fortress she had to infiltrate.

Carefully, she climbed the stairs to her floor. Her ears were perked up, alert for any sounds of an occupant out on a night stroll, but the only sounds that reached her were the faint scraping of her pads and claws on the aggregate concrete. Paranoia while she climbed these stairs was nothing new to her; she always had kept her keys at the ready in case she needed to defensively gouge someone jumping out from the shadows. Now, it was important to not be spotted in case her nosy neighbor that had called animal control was lurking about!

Reaching the 4th floor, a wave of relief washed over her when she saw her apartment door. She had made it back to save Toby! Rushing up to it, and ignoring the heavy patter of her paws on the balcony floor, her relief and excitement melted away into despair. Like at the house in the suburbs, she had no way to open a door with her paws. She was locked outside, mere feet from where Toby waited.

Distressed, she started to pace back and forth in front of the door. How could she have been so shortsighted? Her mind had been so focused on her safety and rescuing Toby that she had forgotten to plan for how she would save him. The entire day had passed and she had traveled far, but Toby still wasn’t any more safe than when she had started. Maybe, if she waited until morning, she could convince someone to let her in if she acted like a lost pet. It was a risky idea, but until she came up with a better plan, she never would get any closer to saving her cat.

Quietly, she slumped down, rubbing her side against the blue wooden door to guide her descent, but instead of supporting her weight, the door swung open and threw her to the floor. It wasn’t actually latched shut! Thrilled at her fortune, she scrabbled back up to her paws and dashed inside to look for Toby.

The apartment was exactly as she had left it, but it felt more alien than ever before. Her nose picked up so many new scents, and the walls felt a little claustrophobic after spending a whole day outside. Notes of her human scent and Toby’s played in the air, as well as her aromatic candles, food from the pantry, fabric softener from her laundry, Toby’s litterbox, and— something dirty, like the grime that covered the city.

The strange odor caused the fur on her neck to prickle and rise. She could tell someone had been in here. Someone was in here.

Carefully, she padded softly across the carpet and to the linoleum of the kitchen area, ears alert and nose twitching. She felt a warning bark stick in her throat as she tried to remain as silent as possible. With head lowered and placing one paw in front of the other, she drifted into the kitchen, making sure to make each step as soundless as if she was on a hunt. Her sharp ears could hear someone inhaling deeply in her bedroom, and as she crept near the doorway, she could smell something burning inside. Something pungent and acrid.

Peering around the corner of the doorway, the fox was greeted with a distressing sight. The room was warmly lit with her hanging rope lights, but violating the calm sanctuary she had built for herself was a man that had ripped up her bedding. He donned it, wrapping himself in the mass of fabric like a sort of cocoon. Toby was awake and alert, arching his back at the intruder but not daring to move or retreat from his cat condo. On the bed next to the man was her purse, its contents emptied and strewn across the mattress and spilling onto the floor.

The odor from the man was pungent, even to where the fox stood outside the door. He smelled of the gutter and of urine, and his teeth were rotten and falling out, adding the musty smell of bad breath to the mix. Clenched between his fingers that held the blankets wrapped around him was a glass pipe, and small wisps of vapor were rising from the charred end. Whomever he was, he was out of his mind.

The fox let out a small snort of distress seeing the transient squatting in her home. She had frequently heard of the possibility of such intruders in the city, but she always kept her doors tightly locked while she was gone. Her neighbor must have left the door open for him to get in during her absence!

Alerted by the snort, Toby turned his head to look down at the fox peering in, and once he recognized her, he leapt down from his perch to rub against the fox waiting at the door. She affectionately nuzzled back, licking the back of his head to reassure him. The plans she had to stay the night here safely with him would have to change now that there was a squatter involved.

Just as she began to turn around to lead her cat outside, a light draft wafted in from the open front door, washing her damp nose in the cool fresh evening air. On the bed, the man sensed it too, and he sat up rigidly, suddenly alert and quivering with anticipation. Hesitating for only a moment to listen to the silence, he lashed out to the mattress next to him, grabbing a six-inch combat knife that had been resting on it. Throwing aside his covers, he leapt off the bed and marched toward the fox with the knife raised.

The suddenness of it startled the fox, and she froze in panic, golden eyes wide as she tried to reverse with hind legs that didn’t quite want to obey. Marching forward, the man towered over her, menacing the rusty weapon in his grip. Just as she was about to let out a scream of terror from being backed into the wall, the man thudded past and out the bedroom, each step booming loudly as he stomped manically on his heels through the kitchen. Somehow, he had ignored the two animals at his feet as he had rushed past as if they weren’t there.

Peering around the corner of the bedroom, the fox watched as the man reached the wide-open door. Holding the knife behind the door to hide it, he leaned out onto the balcony, twisting his head each way, looking for anyone that could have opened the door. Satisfied that no onlookers were waiting for him, he pulled the door closed, slamming it tight with the hand that hid the knife. He began to pace around the living room, each footfall thudding loud enough to disturb the neighbors sleeping below. Mindlessly, he tossed the knife to the sectional and began gesticulating wildly in the air as if he was having a silent argument with someone invisible.

Horrified, the fox watched the man from the bedroom door. Not only was she unable to safely rest after her long journey, but she was now locked in a house for the second time today. Unlike the gardener’s house, she didn’t have a land-line phone to call the cops, and if she could somehow operate her cell phone she left in her purse, it surely would be out of batteries by now, having spent nearly two days without a charger. Horror slipped into panic as she watched the crazed, filthy man get more and more agitated.

A sickening thought ran through her desperate mind. He had tossed aside the knife and wasn’t paying any attention to her. Maybe she could take the weapon in her jaws and— she didn’t want to finish the thought, but if he was wounded enough, maybe he would open the door to seek aid while freeing her and Toby.

Limbs stiff and hesitating to obey, she forced herself to creep forward, not wanting to be seen or execute her plan, but also seeing no other way out. The man was still pacing back and forth, completely unaware of the vixen mere feet away. Behind her, Toby mewed softly and batted at her puffy tail, seemingly aware of her deadly intent and encouraging her onward.

As if on cue, the man froze mid stride. Hastily, he fished out a lighter from his pocket and began cooking the end of his glass pipe; the lighter’s blue jet hissing and roaring in the sudden silence. Moments later, he raised the tube to his lips, and rapidly puffed on it, filling the air with the same acrid scent the fox had smelled when she came in earlier.

The harsh odor burned at her sensitive nose, and she felt it start to water and drip with mucus, filling her large sinuses with a stuffy sensation she wasn’t quite used to. Her eyes began to tear up and blur her vision, making her falter in front of the refrigerator before she could get to the knife on the sofa.

Then, something unexpected happened. The man coughed, spewing out white vapor in the first moments, but he kept coughing, and then he started to sputter. Holding his chest, he hacked harder and harder, unable to draw any air back into his lungs as he started to double over weakly. His face shifted to a purple hue, and suddenly, he stopped coughing at all. Without another sound passing his lips, he collapsed with a loud boom that rocked the floor beneath the fox’s paws.

From her position in front of the refrigerator, she could hear the thrumming of his heart start and stop erratically, before finally falling silent. The bastard had just OD’d after locking her inside!

Mortified from watching the dying man in front of her, she decisively leaped into action. She needed him alive to open the door, because no one else was going to do it tonight. Rushing to the fallen man’s side, she placed her furry paws on his chest and thrust with all of her might. His body responded by slightly rocking as if she had only tried to gently wake him.

Shit, she spat with an angry gekker. She was too light for chest compressions. C’mon, Stella, think! She commanded herself. Backing off a few inches, she did the only thing she could do, and leapt high into the air, arcing downward hard onto her forepaws in a perfect pounce. But all the velocity of a pounce wasn’t enough to be of any use. She couldn’t have weighed more than twenty pounds now. As a human, she could have beat him with a pillow harder than what she was capable of now.

Running out of time and ideas, she decided to try mouth-to-mouth. It was her only hope, because if anyone else opened the door, she surely would be separated from Toby again once they called animal control. With a grimace, she opened her maw wide and clamped it around the man’s face.

Flavors of dirt, grease, beard hair, and something revoltingly bitter wafted into her mouth as she tried to breathe life back into the man, but her muzzle wouldn’t make a tight seal over the man’s airway. Every puff she tried to force into him leaked out around her black lips, leaving more drool on his face than air in his lungs. Tears welled up in her eyes in desperation, and in one final, last-ditch effort, she plunged her whole muzzle into the man’s mouth, all the way up to her whiskers, and heaved as large of a puff through her stuffy dark nose as she could.

It felt like she had been electrocuted. Without any warning, a warm, euphoric energy zapped up her nose and flooded her small vulpine body, filling it with a strange, golden sensation like she had swallowed a piece of the sun. She was thrown backwards from the fallen man in shock, carried mostly by her own limbs. Standing there quaking with the flood of pleasure running through her, she licked at her whiskers, looking for more lingering on her lips. There was no more of the golden energy for her, but she felt she could do whatever she wanted if she had more. Blinking through a bright purple haze the flickered over her vision, the euphoria dissipated, but she still felt energized as if she had just drunk triple the coffee today. It had all happened so fast; she was barely piecing it all together when something new happened. The man’s eyes flickered open.

Letting out a squeak of surprise, she watched as his purpling lips started growing darker and darker, until they took on a leathery texture. He gasped deeply, heaving in the first breath of air he had in a full minute, but he still seemed unaware of his surroundings. Staring blankly at the ceiling, his gray irises turned gold and his pupils widened into vulpine slits.

Horrorstruck, the vixen realized what she had done. Just like the fox on the bus, she had turned this man into a fox too. It was so easy, and it felt so good, it was a wonder he hadn’t attacked all of the passengers. She knew she would have to be careful on her way home and not fall into temptation, which reinforced her need to get back to the forest.

In front of her, she watched the tip of the man’s nose darken as his jaw started to push outwards. Long fangs jutted from his blackened lips as he gasped for breath, and white fur started to poke out of his chin, replacing his dirty beard. The inside of his ears started growing cream colored fur as they stretched out into long fox ears, and the backs of them flourished with a velvety dark that wrinkled themselves against the carpet beneath where he lay.

Sitting bolt upright, the fox-headed man squealed like an animal and started tearing at the orange and white fur crawling down his neck and under his shirt. Fingernails thinned and stretched into jagged claws, and the palms of his hands started growing wide pads and dark fur.

“What’s happening?!” he shrieked with a voice that wasn’t human or fully fox. He tried shouting for help, but only an alarm bark left his furry muzzle.

He frantically sat forward, trying to stand up, but he immediately fell onto his hands and knees, which where almost finished changing into furry fox paws. The grimy rags he was using as clothing was hanging loosely from his frame as he lost mass, and a fuzzy protrusion was sticking out the rear of his waistband. It grew longer until it was nearly as long as him and it covered itself in fluffy fox tail fur.

The squatter tried speaking again, but all the vixen could make out was something about a bad trip. Knees bent, legs shortening, the man pulled a fuzzy fox foot from his worn shoe and placed it where he had been resting his knee, followed by the other leg. There was nothing left of the man, except for a new red fox.

His head turned to the vixen as he sniffed the air with his dark nose. Golden slitted eyes met hers as if seeing her for the first time. A sinister smile played across his muzzle, and he pulled himself free from his discarded clothing, no longer caring about modesty. Tail swaying gently, he stepped toward her and he licked his whiskers greedily.

Got another kiss for me, he said. It wasn’t a question.

She felt her hackles rise at the demand. He was completely unbothered by becoming a fox. Maybe she should have left him to die and worked out how to save Toby without him. Quickly, she glanced around the room for the cat. He was still hanging around her bedroom door, watching the two foxes.

Not on your life, she gekkered defiantly with her maw open wide and ears tucked back.

Undeterred, the squatter fox advanced closer, a musty, amorous scent emanating from him. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Before he could make a move on her, the vixen turned around and leapt up on the couch, grabbing the discarded knife resting there between her fangs. Its stippled metal handle grinded on her teeth, but she gripped it firmly with resolve to run it against the intrusive fox.

The squatter fox’s impish grin fell into a cold stare. Looks like the bitch has some fight in her! Despite her warnings, he moved forward once more.

Not waiting for him to gain the advantage, the vixen leapt from the couch and whipped her powerful neck into the side of the aggressive fox, burying the knife between his ribs up to its hilt.

Blood squirted and gushed out of the wound, and the fox screamed and yelped in pain. Running past the injured squatter, the vixen rushed for the bedroom where Toby stood. We have to go, Toby, she commanded. She didn’t know how they were going to get out of the apartment, but she couldn’t have him so far away from the door.

Behind her, the squatter fox was writhing on the floor and spilling blood all over her carpet. Bitch, you’ll pay for this! he screamed. Suddenly, his eyes beamed a purple light and the contents of the countertop above her showered over her head as if someone had swiped them onto the floor. The unattended pots and block of knives she kept next to the stove clattered to the linoleum, barely missing the vixen while she tried to coax her cat.

Magic! She knew what had happened immediately, even if the squatter fox had used it as unwittingly as she had when she healed herself. Get on my back, Toby, she commanded to her cat. She was barely bigger than him, but infused with the golden energy, she felt she could carry him easily. The cat obeyed quickly, somehow understanding her intent. Laying across her spine, the cat wrapped his banded arms around her ribs and clasped her tightly.

The room flashed with a blue light, and the vixen turned to the other fox. Wisps of light were wrapping themselves around the knife handle and were pulling at it to remove it. Within a few seconds, the blade was floating next to him, gripped by the tendrils and drenched in his blood. A light pitter-patter of his blood dripping could be heard, but it was slowing in cadence until it stopped entirely while his wound finished healing. They stood on either side of the room, facing each other down. The light blue-white tendrils started to deepen to a dark purple, but they still gripped the knife tightly.

Darkly grinning, the squatter fox looked to the weapon floating next to him, and with a flick of his muzzle, he sent it flying through the air, straight at the vixen and her cat. She saw what he was about to do a second before it happened, and she was already behind the island counter in the center of the kitchen when the knife embedded itself deep into the floor where she had been a moment before.

HAHAHAHA! The squatter fox manically laughed with his squeaky voice. You’re only making this fun for me!

The room filled with another purple flash, and suddenly all the cabinet doors flew open, the nearest of which slapped the vixen across her face with a hollow thud. Thankfully, Toby wasn’t struck, but if the squatter was going to be throwing things at her, the cat was in serious danger. Another flash filled the room, and all the contents of every cabinet flew out. Plates and drinking glasses shattered to the floor, recipe printouts flew through the air like confetti, and the pots and pans rang out with deafening clanks. Toby hugged himself closer to her at the chaos, but didn’t flee.

Taking a gamble to taunt the fox, the vixen called out from cover, Stop messing up my apartment! We’re trapped in here because your dumbass locked the door!

You’re only trapped in here with me! Called back the squatter. A wave of purple light swooped overhead, its tendrils shoving the decorative vase and centerpiece off the island and onto the floor next to her, once again barely missing her and Toby.

Thinking back to the other fox last night and his need for her food, she retorted, And what are you going to do tomorrow when you get hungry?

There was a moment of hesitation that hung in the air at the question, as if it was the first time the squatter fox had thought about the gravity of him becoming an animal. The moment broke, and he shouted back, Bitch, I can do anything I want!

Just to prove it, the purple light lashed around the room, and suddenly, the front door was ripped off its hinges and flew into the kitchen to be used as another projectile.

That was her cue. With a word to Toby to hang tight, she leapt over the shattered dishes on the floor and dashed out from her cover behind the counter. The squatter fox was waiting to obstruct her, but her combined weight with the cat bowled into him hard, and all three of them were knocked apart from the collision.

The squatter was the first to recover, and he lashed out with his fangs, catching the vixen’s forepaw while she was still sprawled out next to him. She screeched loudly, which in turn summoned Toby to fly through the air and land on the squatter’s face. Claws tore at his orange fur, and the squatter recoiled, releasing the vixen from his jaws.

Toby, stop! the vixen called out as she gathered herself up and moved toward the open door. Listening to her commands as always, he stopped his assault on the fox’s face and returned to her side.

The squatter fox barely had time to recover, his face dripping blood from the claw marks Toby had left on him. He looked haggard, and his golden eyes were having trouble focusing on her. I’m not letting you go so soon, he coughed. Not until I’ve gotten...

He trailed off, not really able to stand up or think straight. The purple light flowed out of him once more, this time it tried flipping the sectional sofa onto the vixen and Toby, but they moved easily out onto the balcony, letting it thump loudly in the shattered doorway and blocking the squatter fox in the apartment.

Nuzzling her cat, the vixen made for the stairs down, putting the pained howls and screams of anguish from the squatter fox echo behind her. She wouldn’t need to return here anymore. Together, she and her cat descended into the parking lot and then finally into the darkened city. The trip back to the forest was still ahead of them.

---

Leaning against the railing of the patio in front of his apartment door, Miles took another drag on his cigarette. It had been a long day at work, both from him starting a midday shift, as well as being held back for extra duties at the end. He needed the overtime; the rent on this place wasn’t getting any cheaper, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the property manager Kris was going to attach a surcharge for calling security last night.

The apartment complex had been quiet since he got home a few hours ago. Most of its occupants were asleep when he got off work, which is what led him to the mess upstairs last night. Most of the complex didn’t tolerate unwanted noise, so it had fallen to him to inquire about the loud screams from the animals he heard.

Just as he was putting his cigarette back to his lips for another puff, a loud crash upstairs jolted him out of his reverie, nearly making him drop his tobacco to the parking lot below.

“Damn it, not again,” he cursed to himself.

Dashing out the cigarette on the railing, he started to make for the stairs at the end of the long patio before he stopped himself. No, he decided. Someone else needs to handle it tonight. Property management was Kris’s job, not his.

He turned to go back inside, but as he did so, a frantic scrabbling and scratching of claws could be heard on the deck above him. It was running for the stairs, and a moment later, he saw a fox followed by the cream-colored cat from the apartment bolting out onto his floor before rounding down the stairs to the next level. They were gone so fast he didn’t have time to react.

Cursing again, he went inside to get his phone. If the cat was leaving the apartment, he should let Kris know in case the occupant started looking for it. There wasn’t much chance of him catching it if he went chasing after it now, but maybe Kris could do the bare minimum and inform the owner.

He scrolled through his contacts list as he walked back outside, hoping to see a sign of where the fox and cat were heading to. Waking Kris at 2:30AM over a lost pet may not have been strictly necessary, but Miles had grown a bit of vindictiveness towards him for the apathy he showed last night.

He vigilantly watched over the railing as he informed Kris what he had seen, and Kris responded slowly with each of his questions, either because he was writing down the info, or simply falling back asleep while on the phone. Somehow, Kris still managed to care less about the lost cat than Miles did at this point. Disconnecting the call, Miles slipped his phone back into his pocket. His duty was done, and he could go to bed with a clear conscience.

Softly, the sound of claws scraping on the patio flooring crept up behind Miles. He froze where he stood, leaning back against the railing. A new fox had stumbled onto this level, but this one had its face and side covered in bloody streaks. It stumbled forward, twitching and jerking randomly, and its eyes shimmered with a dull purple light.

The fox passed Miles, unseeing, as it shakily put one paw in front of the next. He dared not move while the animal was near, it looked like it was ready to lash out at anything that crossed its path. It continued past Miles, and he watched it arrive at the door of his neighbor's apartment. Pointing its nose at the door knob, there was a flicker of light and then the door swung open for the fox to wander inside. Just as silently as it had appeared, the door closed behind the fox, leaving no trace it had been there.

Realizing he had been holding his breath, Miles let out a sigh and fished out his phone again to call Kris. The animal was clearly rabid and now it was in someone’s unit.

It took three attempts to get Kris to answer. After Miles explained what he had just seen, Kris replied groggily, “And the occupant let it inside?”

“Yes, it appeared so,” replied Miles

“Then let them call it in if there’s a problem!” Kris snapped before hanging up the line.

Miles stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders and went back inside. Kris was right this time. It wasn’t his place to worry about it.