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A young red fox padded through the underbrush, it’s orange fur blending in neatly with the background. It was a young male, stalking a bird across the clearing. His fur was flat against his coat, ears perked and tail straight out behind him. He was deathly quiet, his paws not making the faintest of noises in the grass and soil. He moves quickly and quietly, crossing nearly the whole clearing, his eyes never leaving the bird.
He pounces, but his luck runs out as a great, massive shape overtakes him and presses him into the earth, the bird long gone. The red fox barks and trills at the shape on it, not afraid as the shape turns out to be a large wolf. He continues barking even as the wolf lets him up.
The fox swipes at the large muzzle and the first noise to be heard out of the great canine almost sounds like a chuckle- a rolling, stopping and starting growl. The fox barks again and deftly hops onto the wolf’s back, stretching out like a cat on a log, and stays there as the wolf trots away into the brush.
The two are silent together, an unusual pair, as they move through the thick trees. There’s faint chirping in the distance, almost that of a bird, and it grows steadily closer until the source bursts out through a bush and rubs up against the wolf. The wolf greets the newcomer with a familiar and happy whine, and the fox barks a greeting, the two large canines and the third smaller all rubbing happily together. The newcomer isn’t native to the area the fox and wolf find themselves in- though that doesn’t stop the happy family from greeting each other.
The greetings slowly dissolve into silence and the three separate from each other, parting ways into the trees.
The fox closes his eyes as he stretches low to the ground, his thoughts guiding him through the motions as his body seems to stop being for a moment. He exists, but he feels nothing, until he feels his feet under him, hands gripping the grass and dead leaves where his claws had moments ago. The young man stretches as he stands, muscles straining and stiff as if he had been sleeping for a long time. He returns to the clearing, scooping up a stashed shirt and a pair of jeans, tugging them on with a rough sigh. Clothing was overrated.
“Max.” A young woman greets, as she appears where the newcomer had vanished. He smiles at her, though they hesitate to embrace until the third rejoins them. “Angelo.” She greets the other man, and the three humans embrace each other.
“Pack.” The three say in unison, each voice reflecting the happiness and contentment of being back together again