The vegetable soup was indeed delicious. It was thick, warm, and filled with root vegetables that Mrs. Fox had stored away in the back of her pantry. The warmth of the soup and the crackling of the small fire in the centre of the den, soon made the cubs sleepy.
The eldest cub, was a caring and polite girl whose fur was beginning to turn a lovely deep russet colour. She wilfully helped her mother stack the empty wooden bowls while they discussed Mr. Fox's close escape. The middle cub, an intelligent but mischievous boy was still chattering away to himself and playing with his wooden toys. Then not forgetting the third... Curled up in a ball of fluff, the baby boy cub was already fast asleep, occasionally twitching his nose and whiskers as he dreamed of chasing butterflies.
Mr. Fox sat by the entrance of the den, looking up at the patch of sky visible through the hole. The moon was rising. It was a big, bright, silver coin in the sky.
"My tail stings a little, my dear," Mr. Fox whispered, being careful not to wake the little ones. He looked back at his tail, which looked rather odd with the new bald patch made by the farmer's gun.
"You are brave, but you must be careful," Mrs. Fox said softly as she came over to nuzzle his cheek. "The larder is looking a little empty again. We've enough for breakfast, but I worry about our dinner tomorrow."
Mr. Fox stood up and stretched, wincing slightly. "The night is my friend, Mrs. Fox. The sun was too revealing, and the Farmer was very ready. Tonight, I shall stick to the shadows. I won’t go near the farm... My tail has had enough excitement for one week! instead, I will go to the Stream."
Mrs. Fox smiled. "Give the kind Lady my love".
With a nod and a determined look on his face, Mr. Fox quickly slipped out of the den.
The night air was crisp and cool, a welcome change from the heat of the day. The world was painted in shades of silver and blue. Mr. Fox didn't run this time; he trotted with a silent, graceful rhythm. He skirted wide around the dangerous farm. He could see the farmhouse in the distance, the windows lit but dark and silent around. He couldn't help but think of the chicken coop. "Not tonight, old man", he quietly said to himself. "Not tonight".
Instead, he headed towards the growing sound of trickling water.
After a short journey through the forest's floor, the tall ferns and trees opened to reveal a breathtaking sight. A beautiful stone cottage with a golden thatched roof sat comfortably in the edge of the woods. Out of the chimney came white smoke that smelled of apple wood and cinnamon. Beside the stone cottage ran a stream that made a calming sound and sparkled in the moonlight, its water rushing over smooth river stones.
This was the home of the Lovely Lady.
Mr. Fox crept through the garden gate, his paws were silent on the mossy path. The garden was a paradise of flowers! Night blooming Jasmine and Moon-flowers that only opened when the sun went down.
Sitting on a wooden bench in her porch and wrapped in a colourful knitted shawl, was the Lady. She had silver hair that matched the stream and kind eyes that wrinkled in the corners. She didn't move when she saw the flash of red fur; she simply smiled.
"Good evening, Mr. Fox," she whispered with a friendly tone into the night air. Her voice was like dry leaves rustling together but the words were soft and comforting. "I see you've had a rough time of it. Your tail looks... Distinctive".
Mr. Fox sat down on his haunches and gave her a polite "yip". He liked her. She never shouted and she certainly never carried a shotgun.
"I thought you might come by," she said, gesturing to a ceramic plate she had placed near the bottom of her porch. "I had a roast dinner tonight, and I saved the trimmings just for you."
Mr. Fox waited until she leaned back on her bench before he approached. On the plate were glorious treasures; A thick rind of smoked bacon, crispy roast potatoes covered in gravy, and a thick crust of buttery bread. It smelled heavenly. He ate quickly, savouring the salty, rich flavours that were so different from the wild food he usually found.
It was a wonderful snack; It gave him a burst of energy and he happily licked the gravy from his whiskers. The food was very needed but he knew it wouldn't be enough to feed Mrs. Fox and their three growing cubs back home.
He looked up at the Lady and bowed his head in thanks. She waved a hand gently. "Go on now, little one. Be safe and visit again soon."
Mr. Fox returned into darkness of the night. The sound of the stream grew silent but this story is far from over.
