Kimonodea raised her bow. She had been hunting for hours now, so keen on finding a meal now that her finger would tighten on the bowstring every time she heard a noise or saw the rustle of leaves. The sun, now high in the noon position, was not helping her escalating hunger. Sighing, she sat underneath the shade of a willow tree. Her stomach growled. No meat again today. The poachers and other hunters had cleaned out the valley.

Sighing in frustration, she propped herself up with her bow, disturbing a young fox from its den. Kimonodea stopped and watched it, her finger once again tightening on the bowstring. But for some reason, she stayed her hand. She just stood, watching the fox as it looked at her in wonder.

Its fur was a deep red, reminding Kimonodea of a red haired man whom she had only met a week before. The fox, who was watched as Kimonodea lowered her bow, walked timidly towards her.

Kimonodea stared back into its black orbs with her yellow cat-like eyes. The half demon swore she had stared into these eyes before. Was it his eyes she had stared into the day they parted, the taste of him still on her lips? Or were they those of the fox, whose soul seemed to consume her in an envelope of warmth.

Her heart melted. Slowly, she lowered her bow and returned the arrow to the quiver. With another sigh, she turned away from the fox, but not before throwing the last piece of pemmican she had to it. The fox took the piece of dried meat in its teeth before scampering away into the underbrush. Kimonodea watched as it disappeared. After it was gone, she sighed one final time before walking back towards home. She had a letter to write.