The Vixen's Den
Over the next few days, I return to the Japanese garden and stroll into the bamboo forest. Stopping just before the small clearing, I veer off the well-worn path. I purposely vary my route, checking and backtracking to ensure that no curious passer-byes had followed. Confident that I'm alone, I strip down naked, fold my clothes and pack them along with my camera into my backpack. Using the jute rope, I secure my backpack high off the ground then lightly camouflage my cache site. I stand still and close my eyes for a couple minutes. Four deep breaths in and out.
Project my senses outward.
Listen.
Scan.
Gently sniff the air.
Slight breeze on my skin. The sounds of forest, the creak of bamboo slightly swapping from the wind higher up, the sudden flap of wings, the quiet rustle of leaves as a nearby mouse searches the littering of leaves on the forest's floor. My nostrils flare slightly as I turn into the breeze. Hmmm, the faint musk of my vixen!
Air, light and space shimmer and bend... the strong, sure flaps of my wings take me up into the forest's leafy canopy.
I hunt again. Ten minutes later, another pair of squirrels fall prey to my sharp talons. I eat first. Squirrels are a favorite of mine and it's nigh impossible to resist when the kill is fresh and the coppery, savory scent of blood hits my feral sense of smell.
Swooping quietly between the thick clusters of bamboo, I fly deep into the forest. Finding the vixen's den, I circle a couple. Scouting for a suitable perch. I land just outside of her den within easy eyesight yet high enough, out of her reach, just in case. The stir of her shadow just inside the entrance draws my round eyes. She disappears into the depths.
I wait.
The tall grass off to my left bends and shifts. A soft gentle rustle of stalks parting around her sleek body breaks the quiet still silence of the forest around her den. She peeks her muzzle tentatively out into the tiny bare space in front of her den's entrance. I already know about the back exit from previous visits. Smart of her to have a well-hidden exit. Her nose quivers; sniffing softly. Her pink tongue licks her lips and sharp teeth. She's hungry... and in heat!
I've been bringing her a kill once or twice every day. Either in the early morning and/or in the late evening just before dusk. Placing it at her entrance, then perching high up in the deep shadows of the canopy and watching her eat the kill. She needs nourishment. She's a bit underweight for her size, and she seems to be a bit depressed. Not hunting enough, it seems to me.
Something about this vixen though. Something *different*. Her smell, her behavior, the way she moves. She feels familiar to me somehow. I feel drawn to her, protective of her and... more.
I usually only hunt and kill enough to replenish my energies. I'm skilled at providing for my needs. I enjoy my hunts and I'm more than happy to share with this other captivating forest creature.
Today, though, I decided something different. I've been patient. Never approaching her directly. Now I want her attention. I want her to know that it's
