He's squinting again, reaching out with one hand to brace himself on the side of the car. Light catches on a patch of fur as the shapes move closer -- bright, orangeish-red.
With dawning awe, Felix whispers, "I think they're foxes."
He's never seen wild ones before; just photographs, or pictures in storybooks.
no subject
He's squinting again, reaching out with one hand to brace himself on the side of the car. Light catches on a patch of fur as the shapes move closer -- bright, orangeish-red.
With dawning awe, Felix whispers, "I think they're foxes."
He's never seen wild ones before; just photographs, or pictures in storybooks.