there is fox in her, a curled up copper wire that binds her backbone together, a hint of wild, the cut of cleverness, eyes that laugh at everything, a smile all full of mystery, of playfulness, with feet that carried her through nights that rang with the howl of hunting.

you cannot tame her. when she comes, it’s because she wants to. and when she stays: you should be on your knees in thanks. foxes like her choose their dens with the sharpest elegance. don’t betray her trust. don’t send her running. keep her close and love her hard or you’ll never see her like again.

and trust me, you’ll miss her when she’s gone. you’ll miss her more than anything.

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