A fox rests on the shoulder of a mountain

Taking in the rays of the sun

It raises its head

Foot steps draw near

On the edge of the forest

Creeping along the undergrowth

A hunter draws near

With gun in hand

With vengeance in her eyes

The fox tilts his head in amusement

Another ghost yet to die

It chuckles and steps into the light

Chest high, he gazes down on his prey

Gun aimed

And FIRE! 

He skips on the edge and tips over dead

Or so it would seem

A smile snakes its way onto his lips

Then a laugh, a full belly yelling laughter pierces the air

She jumps, alert head spinning with a sensation

Terrified of waking a beast

To hunt a fox

Is to give your life a little push into surrender.