through the window. “See? It’s a fox!”
His mother strained her eyes for a few moments, following his finger. It wasn’t until the fox twitched in his sleep that she finally noticed. Her eyes grew wide, and her face filled with pity. “You’re right! Aw, the poor thing. He looks half-starved.” She picked up two pieces of toast and a few slices of bacon and placed them on a paper plate, a napkin nestled beside them. “Why don’t you take this out to him? He looks like he could use a good, warm breakfast. And get a juice container for him, too.”
Matakh nodded and took the food from his mother, before opening the refrigerator and removing a clear synth-glass container of imported orange juice. “I’ll bet he’ll like this,” he said to his mother.
She nodded. “Just try not to wake him. It might frighten the little dear.”
Matakh gave her a thumbs-up and headed for the door, which opened soundlessly to let him through before closing again after him. The slight rush of air as the panels moved and the soft click of them shutting once more made him nervous at first, but it seemed that they weren’t enough to disturb the sleeping fox. Aside from a faint twitch of his ears, he didn’t stir. Quietly, using every ounce of stealth he possessed, Matakh crept across the lawn, treading lightly on the balls of his feet.
He fully intended to simply deposit the toast, bacon, and juice by the sleeping vulpine and creep back to the house without waking him. But he failed to notice a ring of dried twigs laid out a few feet from the fox. His foot came down directly on top of one of them, the snapping of brittle wood painfully loud to his ears.
In an instant the fox was wide awake, swinging his head frantically towards the sharp sound and his rust-red hair flying around wildly. At the sight of the lion kneeling just a few feet away, his sapphire-blue eyes widened in fear, and his long, rabbit-like ears pinned back against his head. Up close, Matakh was struck by just how young the other boy was. By his best guess, the fox couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old.
He smiled softly and slowly reached a hand outwards, a gentle “hi” resting on his lips. But the fox gave a sudden yelp of fear and dove into the hedges, vanishing so fast that seemed to leave a blur in his wake.
“Wait!” Matakh called out, leaping over the shrubs and landing flawlessly on the other side. He looked up to see the small fox running for a nearby alley, ears folded back and tail tucked against his legs. ‘He’s scared of me,’ Matakh realized. ‘I don’t get it. I didn’t do anything to hurt him, so why is he running?’
The fox made the turn into the side street, and Matakh sped up to catch him. Within moments, he had rounded the corner, but to his great surprise, the alley was empty. It was obvious that there was no way out of the narrow street, but somehow the fox was gone just the same. For a moment he pondered trying to search the cluttered street, but he thought better of it. ‘If he’s scared enough to hide, looking for him won’t help things,” he reasoned.
“Well,” he called out, “you win.” He knelt down to place the plate on the pavement, somewhat surprised to see that all of the contents were still present. “But all I wanted was to give you this.” Reaching into his pocket for the juice container, he set it next to the plate before getting to his feet once more. One final time, he peered into the darkness of the alley, hoping to make out the fox in the gloom, but it was useless. The tall buildings blotted out the sunlight, and without any other lights even his feline eyes had trouble piercing the shadows.
“All right, then. I’ll be going now. Hope you enjoy it.” And with that, he left the alley and headed back towards his house. He just hoped that the little fox had heard him.
A few minutes of silence passed, the noises of the city drowned out by the thick stone walls until only ghostly echoes remained. The stillness was suddenly broken by a faint rustling as a small figure slipped out from behind a stack of crates. Two large ears straightened and swiveled about, alert for any sounds that might hint at an approaching individual. When none presented themselves, the little fox crept slowly forward towards the offerings Matakh had left behind. As he drew closer, the fox’s sensitive nose began twitching, inhaling the scent of soft bread and warm, crispy bacon. The delicious aroma made his stomach grumble, and the temptation to rush forward and grab the food rose strong inside of him. Instead, he swallowed and took another few steps forward, checking around him constantly.
Finally, he came up to the paper plate that the strange lion had left, the smell now so strong that it made him faint with hunger. He reached out for a piece of the bread, but paused and checked his hands. Seeing a layer of dirt, he wiped his palms on the cleanest part of his pants, cleaning them as best he could. He then gently lifted a slice of toast to his nose and sniffed, wary of anything unpleasant. When he could find nothing, he next tested the bacon, which also came up clean.
Unable to contain himself any longer, the fox took up the toast once more and took a small bite, chewing slowly and letting the taste of the warm bread and salty butter wash over his tongue. After a few moments, he swallowed, sighing happily as he felt the warm food hit his stomach, and his tail started to wag. At that point, all of his worries fell away, and he began to eat as fast as he could. Mouthful after mouthful was wolfed down, and he took frequent gulps from the orange juice to wash it all down.
It wasn’t long before he had eaten every last bite, even licking the crumbs from the plate in his eagerness. After so long, he had almost forgotten what real food tasted like, and how wonderful a full stomach could feel. He felt a rapid twitching coming from his rump, and he laughed when he looked back to see his tail flagging wildly. He hadn’t felt so happy in a long time.
However, he remembered how exposed he was, and he readied himself to slip away again. But a thought suddenly leapt into his mind and made him pause. Why had that lion helped him? He had been stranded on this world for so long, and in all that time he had never once been shown any kindness. But now he had been shown an inexplicable act of goodwill from a total stranger. He didn’t know why the lion had chosen to help him, but he was grateful nonetheless.
‘One good turn deserves another,’ he thought. ‘Maybe I can find a way to pay him back.’ And with that thought in his mind, he began walking towards the lion’s house.
Foxes are naturally stealthy, but the little fennec’s years of living in the shadows and sneaking around alleys had perfected his skills to the point where he could move in complete silence. Even so, those years had also instilled a deep-seated caution and a strong aversion to open areas. As he made his way across the well-trimmed lawn, the fear of being seen set him to shaking, and it grew stronger with every step he took. He glanced furtively towards the hedge line, even though he knew that it was too far to be a reliable escape. The thought only made his fear stronger, but his determination spurred him on, and at last he was standing up against the sleek, curved walls of the house.
Cautiously, he pressed his ear to the wall and closed his eyes, focusing on the conversations going on inside. Through the insulation and metal, the voices were hushed, but he could make out a boy and girl talking together from within. Recognizing one of them as the lion from the alley, he strained to make out what they were saying
“Hey Matakh, do you have this one yet?” the girl asked.
“The A. K. Lauvri Special Edition?” came the reply. It was the voice of the lion that had left him the food. “Yep. I got it a few weeks ago in the mail. Had to special-order it.”
“You must have every coin they’ve ever come out with. All those cases,” the girl remarked, and the fox realized that his benefactor was likely a coin collector.
“Well, I did miss my chance to get one special
