Various One Shots - 3. A Cat and a Fox

Humming softly, his hair swaying in the breeze, Whiskey rode down one of the many horse trails that littered his grandfathers vineyard estate. Pulling the roan up, he slides off of her and moves to twist a rope around a low hanging tree before moving to sit on a petrified stump in the middle of a field.

Settling down, he tilts his head back, his ears twitching on top of his head, the cream color melding into the soft grey of his shoulder length hair. Pulling his legs up into a crossed position, he looks around him with soft green eyes surrounded by thick black lashes. His tail curled around his waist as he leaned back against the edge to contemplate his life. His and Brandywines.

He and his cousin were close, some people said to close. It wasn’t like they slept together, at least not in the carnal sense. But they did run to one another when in fear or hurting. That is, before they ran to their grandfather, Lian and their grandfathers lover, Micheal.

The two were the only true family, beyond Brandywine, that Whiskey had. His mother was dead, having died from a very nasty poison that his biological father had used on her. The man was a black neko youkai and very pissed that his concubine, as he called Whiskeys mother, and his chosen mate had escaped his clutches.

Not like he still wasn’t trying for Whiskey, but with his grandfathers influence, Whiskey was still out of the mans reach.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish, as Micheal always says,” he muses to a small fox that had come trotting out into the field. Looking around, he spots a mouse that was staring at the fox. “No pouncing the mouse while I’m here, Mr. Fox,” he says, laying across the stump and staring at the little black fox. “You’re an oddly colored one for Italy, little fox. I don’t believe I’ve seen a black fox here.”

The fox yipped and padded over to nuzzle at the delicately clawed hand, prancing away when the long fingers twitch at the feeling.

“But you are a pretty creature,” Whiskey hums, reaching forward slightly too gently scratch behind the foxes ears. “I suppose I should go home and figure out that painting huh? He keeps haunting my dreams, little fox. Why does he keep haunting my thoughts?”

Sighing softly, he stood up with a smile and moved to his horse again. Untying the rope, the hauls himself up into the saddle and heads back down the trail, tail swaying back and forth in time with the movement of the horses movements.

The fox sat on the stump and watched after the horse and rider leave, it’s eyes sparkling in interest and amusement before it bounded off the stump and ran after the mouse that squeaked and headed for the woods once more.