Yet another farthing wood fic I've put in this over-looked section. So shoot me. I can't help it if childhood memories keep resurfacing!

Mute: Author doesn't own The Animals of Farthing Wood or Bold wouldn't have died! She probably would have kept Dreamer alive too…

Me: The relationship between Bold and Whisper always fascinated me and this is my interpretation of it. I'm actually quite proud of the way this turned out…

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The breeze ruffled the leaves of the ferns causing ripples to shiver along the stem of the delicate plant. Daisies speckled with sunshine adorned the lush, green ground and the ants beat along the invisible trails that weaved their way in between each grassy blade.

A lithe shadow slipped along the ground, rummaging smoothly through the undergrowth.

Silence.

Then a flurry of vibrations, a mixture of speedy motions and a squawk.

Silence.

A young vixen, crimson body flowing along the ground, glided up a slope towards a stumbling figure that carried himself proudly on three legs though his eyes were hooded with fatigue and his muscles weak. The vixen slowed to a confident trot, a flash of brown fur nestled in her mouth, though her movements displayed none of the awkwardness her mate's did. Her jaws slackened their hold on their prize and the young male, old before his years, stretched up to receive it. The exchange of vole from muzzle to muzzle was done with great tenderness as though the cargo was made out of glass; although in the vixen's eyes, it was the fox before her who was the most frail as though his life could break as easily as she had snapped the vole's back.

Bold turned around, half heartily chewing the cold carcass. The only thing giving away how much effort it took him to move uphill being his laboured breathing. His iron will was all that kept him upright - it was certainly not his trembling limbs. That determination to keep going for the sake of not only the cubs but his Whisper…his. That beautiful, swift-footed being beside him who had chosen him as her mate when she could have had her pick of healthy dog foxes that roamed the town by moonlight. True, she had told him it was because of his blood, the ancestry of the Farthing Wood Fox inhabiting his veins. In all honesty he had been devastated. But now he didn't care. Because he loved her, loved her so much that he would lay down his pitiful existence to spare her death. And it wouldn't matter if she could never feel the same intensity of emotion that he felt for her because he loved her. And that was all that mattered.

Whisper watched him anxiously as he struggled up the slope, concern lining her heart. She matched each graceful step of her own with each quaking one of his, always making sure she was neither too far in front or too far behind. Shadowing his movements perfectly.

The young warrior finally reached the summit, his jelly-like limbs sliding across the turf away from his body as it descended to the ground in a quivering heap. Perspiration trekked down his brow as his ears flopped inwards coming to rest over his face. As though they were trying to hide the shame he felt for being so dependant on the vixen who he believed deserved better than the heavy shadow on her tail. His flawed physique merely served to slow her down; the trouble being that time was a precious thing that they had little of. The slight bulge in Whisper's stomach could not be dismissed or ignored.

"We've covered a lot of ground today," Whisper remarked, her sight losing track of the countryside scenery around them as her eyes became fixated on her partner's flushing face and heaving ranks.

Bold nodded, sweat dripping off his jaw line.

"Are you alright?" she inquired, a tone of worry seeping through into her voice.

Bold looked up. His steady gaze shinning with pure steel caught her off guard.

"I won't let you down."

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The pools of moonlight touched the shrubbery at regular intervals as a skilled vixen weaved her way in and out of the shadows it cast. She approached the hill feeling downhearted. There was no den for them to take shelter in and she knew that sometimes Bold's leg wound sometimes reopened and festered. The harsh, biting wind that the night had bestowed upon them would do it more harm than good.

A sudden snarl tore the night in two and Whisper felt her heart jolt into her mouth. The primitive roar was being emitted from the top of the slope where she had left Bold!

Her legs took on a life of their own as she flew to his aid, the pads coating the underside of her paws beating the dust into pulp.

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A short, defiant growl whistled through Bold's teeth as a swipe from an elderly badger knocked him into the dirt and rendered him helpless. Disorientated, the fox craned his neck upwards and used his good eye to observe the badger approaching him with a sense of impending doom. Eerie white teeth glinting in the darkness the larger mammal neared Bold's exposed flank with steady footfalls; he would show this stranger why it was an unwise idea to invade his territory.

A streak of crimson pushed the grass aside and rushed the would-be killer, parting grey fur from its host before Whisper tasted blood. She spat out the clump of waterlogged hairs grimly only to be ruthlessly thrown aside by sharp claws. A set of silver jaws was locked around her hind leg a second later. She let out a yelp and twisted her flexible body to impossible angles in an effort to escape.

"Leave her alone!" came a snarl heightened to new proportions by a mixture of fear and rage.

Badger and vixen turned to see a bristling Bold on his feet - all three of them. But gone was the small statue and pitiful condition. Transformed by his determination to save his Whisper he stood as a formidable figure bathed in moonlight. Indeed the moonlight enhanced his fearsome facial expression as he held himself like a trained warrior. The scar over his left eye jutted out distinctly making his appearance seem even more supernatural and his bared teeth sparkled with a cunning tint, a warning of an unveiled threat.

Whisper watched with widened eyes as Bold haltingly advanced towards them. The badger was shaken by this sudden metamorphous in the handicapped fox but he had not forgotten who held the advantage in the fight.

"What makes you think you stand a chance?" he asked.

A bitter sneer curved the corners of Bold's mouth.

"Because I've got something you don't," he replied coldly.

The badger stared at the creature before him for a few moments before comprehension dawned in his eyes and he turned, skulking back to where he had come from.

Silence.

Rapid breathing.

"What did you do?"

Bold gave her a long suffering look.

"I simply informed him that I was fighting for a greater cause than he was so I was therefore willing to part with my life for it. He was just trying to protect his land which is not something you would fight to the death for. You only participate in a fight if willing to pay the same cost of your adversary."

But that's not the way nature should work!" protested his companion.

Bold smirked.

"The laws of nature have already decreed that I should have died a long time ago and that I should not have a crow as an ally much less a friend!" he pointed out.

Silence.

"So what were you fighting for? The cubs?"

For the first time in days Bold gave a genuine smile as he became quite placid again, melting into the ground.

"Us."

Whisper stared then nodded slowly. She slid down to his level next to him causing him to chuckle lightly. She gave him an inquisitive look.

"You're my shadow," smiled Bold, his chin embracing his forelegs, "you're always there to defend me, never leaving my side."

Whisper watched him until he was captured by deep and blissful slumber, his shallow breathing finally becoming deeper and more peaceful.

"I am your shadow Bold because you're the one who's real. You are the bravest creature I've ever known. I am nothing compared to you." she spoke quietly addressing the one who could not hear her.

"You outshine me by far. How can a mere shadow not love the inner strength of something that burns brighter than a forest fire, following the one they belong too?"

She let a heavy sigh escape her when she noticed the tightened muscles near his mouth, creating a weary grimace.

"But you really should stop self-combusting or there'll be no trees left. Your confidence needs to keep on climbing something even if it's a sapling. Keep the flames burning but don't turn into ashes. I need you. And I'm not talking about being the guide back to your birthplace. I'm discussing the matter of me. I need you, spiritually, physically, emotionally, I need all of you."

She hesitated for a moment. Then her shoulders sloped forward and her tongue flicked out and delicately caressed the top of the head.

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Morning.

A crippled fox rises and once again embarks on his quest.

His shadow follows.