Page 30 of Blacktail

“We’ll see about that.”

Blacktail turned to face him. This close, he could see that the fox was older than he had first supposed. Elderly, even. Or at least in sight of it. No doubt he had seen fearsome things in his time. Probably he yawned at most of them. But the look in Blacktail’s eyes drove the fox back a half step.

“It’s all right,” Blacktail said. “I’m not angry. Not at you. But you’re wrong. I won’t die.”

“No?”

“No.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because,” Blacktail growled, “I haven’t killed enough of them yet.”

They looked at each other in silence for a long moment.

“Ha!” the fox said. Elderly or not, he sprang to his feet and danced a lap around Blacktail, nipping here and there as he moved. “What a delightful lunatic you are! Come along, then, Lord Vengeance, and we shall see about getting you out of this mess. They don’t call me Trap-Slipper for nothing, you know.”

“Trap-Slipper? Is that your proper name?”

“I suppose so. It’s what my mother called me, anyway. Most people stick with plain old Slipper, though. If we’re to run together, I suppose you might call me that as well.”

“Eh? No, I couldn’t bring you into this. They’re hunting wolf, not fox.”

“Oh, pffft. I’m already in it. These idiots are in love with hate. They’ll kill everything on four legs, given half a chance. Come along.”

Still Blacktail hesitated.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Slipper said.

“What did you call me?”

“I called you an idiot. You’re not the first wolf who tried to outwit hunting men, you know. When I was born, there were three strong packs hereabouts. Mountain kings, they were, like in the old age. I can show you their bones, if they haven’t rotted away by now. But I’m still here. What does that tell you?”

Blacktail considered the prospect of biting the fox’s ass until the insolence squirted out of his nose. While he was mulling this over, a pair of the metal birds swooped by overhead. There wasn’t any real danger—too many trees between them—but the point was taken. Blacktail sighed. Truth be told, I could probably use the help. But all he said was “Very well.”

“ ‘Very well’? That’s your response to my offer of wisdom and assistance? Let me teach you a new word. It’s called gratitude. It means—”

“Enough!” Blacktail barked—but quietly, mindful they were being hunted. He took in a breath and then, through gritted teeth, “You’re right. I apologize. Thank you.”

“There. You’ve got it! That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Blacktail stared at him. The fox decided not to push it.

“Where to?” Blacktail said. “Lead on, pack lord. I am only a puppy.”

“That’s the spirit!” The fox gave him a friendly headbutt. “We might try for the western wood…but there’s a good bit of open space between here and there. With all these sky-thingies swooping about, that’s too much risk. To the east are many roads, and the glowing dens of the two-legs. It’s a good land for scavenging, if you’re careful…but they’ll be stirred up as well, and it’s awfully crowded.”

The baying of hounds echoed across the ridge. Not very close—but not very far, either.

“Oh dear,” the fox said. “That sounds like Cephus. He’s good.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “South, I think.”

“I already tried that.”

“Which, the ridge or the forest?”

“The ridge. The forest seemed too sparse.”

“It is sparse,” the fox said, “but that may work to our advantage.”