The fox felt it too. Their kingdom did not exist, Only ruins, only the shadows, which they moved in to stay hidden.

The Lady had grown quiet. She had always been quiet, but for days now, she didn’t speak. The pair hadn’t needed words to communicate at first, and they hardly needed them now. But he missed her voice.

He didn’t speak much, either, but found himself biting at his tongue—a wound from a bone he chewed a week ago refusing to heal. The flavor of his own blood only served in upsetting his groaning belly, which wished for something substantial.

The pads on his paws were sore, leathery skin cracked and dry, but the stinging had only joined the chorus of other discomforts, and they seldom asked his attention anymore.

Most upsetting was the beautiful gift he’d received from the lady. A once snow-white pelt sat upon his shoulders, yellowed from mud and matted from the onslaught of rain. It was far too heavy for him now, but he would not ask Kaede to handle his work.

He remained attentive, but the spry nature of his movements were gone. When Kaede fell, he moved beside her, attention fully on her and not the world around.

A cracked nose prodded her cheek.

”Late. Can sleep in?”

The same nose pointed toward one of the structures. One of the many, The fox’s ears pinned back when he realized.

What were these? He did not like their towering nature.

And animals. Animals he had never seen.

Instinctively, he crawled next to her and pressed into her side.

”Kitsune..” he whispered. Meaning monster, of course. Many monsters.