The little family was over five feet away. Five measly feet. Close enough that I could see the soft rise and fall of the mothers ribs, the tiny twitch of a youngs ear as it dreamed.

  My ears snapped forward. My tail stiffened mid sway, then lashed once hard. My muscles coiled like springs. I surged. Low, silent, liquid, knees pushing off the grass, claws extending, shoulders rolling forward for the perfect pounce. My lips peeled back from my fangs in a silent snarl of pure predatory joy.

  And then I stopped. Dead. Mid leap. My front paws slammed back down into the leaves less than two feet from the foxes tail. My whole body locked rigid, tail frozen high and trembling, ears flat against my skull in sudden, horrified realisation.

  They were further than 5ft...

  Master didn’t say anything. He simply reached down, calm as ever, and his crossbow. The motion was so smooth, so quiet that even I barely heard the soft click of the string locking back. He loaded a bolt without looking away from the foxes, raised the weapon and released the bolt.

  The bolt whispered out, almost silent swallowed instantly by the rain and the trees. It missed. Cleanly. Buried itself in the grass a foot to the left of the father fox with barely a sound. None of them even flinched. The mother continued grooming a young with slow, loving strokes. One of the babies yawned, stretched its tiny paws, and rolled over. The father blinked once, lazily, then rested his chin back on his paws.

  Everything stayed exactly as peaceful as before. So Master raised the weapon again, The biggest fox, the father, strong and dark coated, lifted his head at the exact wrong moment.

  The bolt flew true and silent. It took the big dog fox clean through the chest, just behind the shoulder. He made a single sharp yelp of surprise, legs buckling instantly. His body hit the leaves with a soft thud.

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  The rest exploded into motion, a blur of red and panic. The mother snatched the nearest young by the scruff and bolted into the grass with a terrified bark. The other two young scattered in different directions, tiny legs running, high pitched squeals cutting through the rain as they vanished into the undergrowth.

  In seconds the forest was empty except for the fallen father fox, his body still twitching once, twice, then going still.

  Master lowered the crossbow and began reloading again but the others were already gone.

  I stared at the dead fox for a long moment then slowly melted against Master’s leg completely. My face pressed hard into his leg rubbing frantic little circles as a deep shaky purr rolled out of me.

  “You… you took the big one,” I murmured voice thick with adoration and awe. “The strongest one. The protector. And the others just… ran. Like they should. Master… you’re so calm. So perfect. Even when I almost ruined everything, you fixed it. You always fix it.”

  Master looks at me. Just looks, that calm, quiet gaze that always feels like it sees straight through my soaked fur and straight into the greedy, spoiled heart underneath. My ears flick forward instantly then flatten with a helpless little shiver as the bond pulses warm between us.

  He bends down without a word, hooks one hand under the big dog fox’s chest and lifts the body with effortless strength. The fox’s head lolls, tongue slipping out, blood still slowly dripping from the neat wound in its chest. Master slings the carcass over his shoulder like it weighs nothing, the long red tail dangling down his back.

  I surge up immediately, “You got him,” I murmur against his arm. “The biggest one. The protector. All for me… for us.”

  I nuzzle deeper, fangs grazing his shoulder through the damp cloak, then soothe the spot with a slow drag of my tongue. Every step I stay glued to him, half walking, half trotting on all fours beside him, shoulder bumping his hip.

  “See? I knew you’d provide,” I purr, low and spoiled. “Even when your silly kitten got distracted and lost the trail… you still brought dinner home. My perfect Master.”

  The forest feels quieter now. Just the soft patter of rain, the distant call of a bird, and the steady rhythm of Master’s footsteps with me clinging to his side like I was born there.

  “Almost home,” I whisper against him, tail squeezing once more. “I’ll help you skin it. I’ll help you cook it. I’ll do anything you want… as long as you keep letting me stay right here.”