Ianto
A fox prowled low in the undergrowth of the riverbank, peeping out across the soft and moonlit sands. No one much checked the riverbank for foxes. And so he settled there, paws tucked close, ink-tipped ears perked forward, eager to see and to hear.
But not as keen to be seen or to be heard, evidently. The fox watched the people as they began to file in; Fae and those from beyond the barrier. More and more, the folk of the Greatwood would have to start to realise that this was the new norm.
The fox waited.
But not as keen to be seen or to be heard, evidently. The fox watched the people as they began to file in; Fae and those from beyond the barrier. More and more, the folk of the Greatwood would have to start to realise that this was the new norm.
The fox waited.
