Tabe is a fox.
Specifically, Tabe is an Arctic fox.
Fala has heads the humans talk about them before. Sometimes they call them white foxes, or polar foxes, or even snow foxes. Despite the variables in naming the creature, the facts about them always seem to be the same. It’s a small creature, native to the Arctic regions of the Northern Hemisphere.
The creature is well adapted to living in cold environments, so it’s really no surprise to see one out here. Tabe’s white fur makes her easy to leave in the snow; specks of tan and brown on her back and her hind legs, and a distinct silver scattered about her eyes and her maw. She’s an old thing, obviously, and a tired thing.
When Tabe lifts up her head, it’s to stare at Fala and Aisha with dark, tired eyes. “You’re back.”
“I told you that I would come back,” says Aisha, swooping over to the fox. The little bird lands on Tabe’s shoulders, clawed talons curling in the thick fur. “And I brought help, too, just like I said that I would!”
That is the strange thing about it.
Arctic foxes have a diet that’s naturally comprised of small creatures, like the pups of ringed seals, fish, lemmings, carrion, waterfowl, and, most commonly, seabirds. Aisha and Tabe should be natural enemies, and yet they’re crouched close to each other like the best of friends – like family, even, or something closer than that.
It makes Fala’s own gaze soften, even more so once he realizes what the problem is.
Tabe’s hind leg is trapped in the jaws of a snare. The steel rope is drawn tight around Tabe’s ankle, just above her paw. It’s dug into her skin, leaving faint red marks on her otherwise pristine fur.
“Alright,” says Fala, with a sigh. “I see what the problem is. Och, you’ve gone and drug me into a right mess, bird. There’s no way I can just back out of it now, eh? What a bugger.”
“Please help her,” says Aisha. The words are followed by a series of soft, sad whistles.
Tabe lowers her head back down onto her paws and closes her eyes. “You brought a dog.”
“He’s going to help,” insists Aisha. “Right, dog? You promised! You said that you would help my friend. We’re here now and you’ve already said it, you can’t back out!”
“I’m not going to be backing out on ye,” says Fala, trotting closer to the fox. He’s a little hesitant, just because hounds and foxes aren’t meant to get along, but Tabe is in no position to cause a fuss. “No, I’ll do my best to get yer friend here out. Just give me a couple of moments to look this mess over.”
Katelynn E Koontz – Author
