Chapter 2 

 

Dawn awoke to the sound of a waterfall, the smell of damp earth, and a pair of amber eyes peering at her curiously. Dawn tried to sit up, but her body refused to move, her lower half lying in the shallow stream. She felt battered, as if she had been pelted with a thousand stones, and her memory was a hazy blur. Where was she? Who was she?

            Dawn felt the fox with the amber eyes sniff her hair, its long bushy tail rubbing against her as it circled her. Dawn’s heart thumped in her chest, harmonizing with the steady beat of the rain, fear pulsing through her veins. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed the fox will eventually get bored and leave, but when she reopened them the fox is still there, watching her silently as the rain saturated its red fur to its scraggy body.

            “Shoo! Go away!” Dawn hissed, her voice wobbly with nerves.

The fox cocked its ear as if listening to some faraway noise, then scampered away. That was easy, Dawn thought. Dawn took the fox’s absence as an opportunity to find shelter and figure out what to do next, and managed to prop herself up on both elbows, scanning her surroundings.

The rain died out, and late sunlight pierced through the dark blanket of clouds. Dawn checked her body for bruises and discovered a red gash on her thigh, blood staining her jeans. She had lost one shoe, which she found to be washed up in a clump of reeds. Other than that, her main problem now was to get dry, and get back home. But where was home?

The fox returned with something in its mouth, and as it came closer Dawn realised it was carrying a lilac towel. The fox dropped the towel in front of her and waited.

“Where did you get that from?” Dawn asked. The fox nudges it towards her with a paw, so Dawn picks the towel up. Of course she wasn’t going to use it, no matter how desperate she was, for it had the fox’s saliva on it, but when the fox began to growl, Dawn was intimidated enough to dry herself with the towel.

As Dawn swathed the towel around her shoulders for warmth, the fox brought over her shoe from the tangle of reeds bordering the stream and she slips it on.

The fox gave a low bark and skulked away, pausing for a second to look back at Dawn, beckoning for her to follow. Feeling like she was under some sort of strange spell, Dawn stood up and followed, limping slightly on her bleeding leg.

Dusk crept in, the disappearing light casting shadows in the forest. The birds settled noisily in the branches above, and the scent of rain slowly dissolved with the cold darkness. Dawn continued to pursue the crimson creature in hope that it will lead her back home, but as they travel deeper through the woods, Dawn realised with a growing uneasiness that she wouldn’t be going home anytime soon.

            The fox led her to the widest tree in the heart of the forest, its trunk the size of Dawn’s closet, and in the dim light she watched in astonishment as the fox tapped the bark, revealing a secret passage big enough to fit Dawn.

Dawn was gently shoved forward by the fox, staring directly into the bottomless hole in terror, and before she could scream, she found herself tumbling into the blackness.