I met a nine-tailed fox last night. It’s fur glowing through the forest and the cracks of my curiosity. It’s eyes wide; piercing. Examining my intentions as it circled around me. I entered a low stance with my right hand on the hilt of my dagger. My left palm facing the fox. It slowing walked closer, lowering it’s tails. I watch as leaves on the ground around it turned to the color of autumn. As it placed it’s nose to my palm I gripped my dagger tighter. I felt it breathe in calmly. It’s breath matching mine. My defense melted away as I stood up; releasing my hand from my dagger. The creature turned and ran away into the forest.

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