by Vixienna the Fox (no relation)
(working title, possibly too sexy?)
(Carl said no, but I ignored him)
🌿 Chapter One: The Arrival of the Mysterious Stranger with Very Good Shoulders
Vixienna Foxpaw adjusted her scarf.
(It was wind-blown and tragic, as was her soul.)
She looked up from the moss where she had been writing incredibly important metaphors about acorns and abandonment. The forest smelled like cinnamon and hope, and something in her tiny heart fluttered.
Suddenly—he was there.
The stranger.
The fox.
The boy.
He stepped out from behind a tree with the kind of confidence you get when you’re very tall and emotionally mysterious. His fur was auburn, like dried leaves that knew secrets. His eyes were stormy.
Or maybe just blueish.
(Do foxes have blue eyes? Research later.)
His name… was Broodington Sharpfang.
(That’s temporary. Unless it’s perfect.)
He didn’t say anything right away.
He just stood there.
Quiet.
Cool.
Probably thinking about poetry and wounds.
Maybe he had a scar.
Probably had a scar.
Vixienna’s stomach did a somersault.
Or maybe it was just gas.
(Okay but SOMETHING was happening.)
Her tail floofed instinctively.
She told it to stop.
It didn’t.
“Hi,” she said,
because that’s what characters say in chapter one.
He nodded in a tragic, yet intrigued way.
“I like moss,” she added, because why not be vulnerable right away?
“Same,” he replied, his voice gravelly—like someone who had secrets and also maybe a sore throat.
[Insert description of his jawline here. Something about shadows? Chisel it??]
There was tension.
Like the kind in books.
Vixienna didn’t know what it meant, exactly,
but her face got very warm and her brain made jazz noises.
She imagined them falling in love:
– Walking through the forest.
– Reading obscure poetry.
– Crying under stars.
– Making soup together while not talking about their feelings.
Then she blinked,
and realized she had been staring at him for eleven entire seconds.
“Nice weather,” she added, to recover.
He shrugged, like the universe.
They were obviously in love now.
✏️ Vixie’s Note:
This is going extremely well.
Should I add kissing yet?
Wait. What does kissing actually feel like?
I’ve brushed noses with a squirrel once.
Does that count?
