The mother fox stepped closer, its eyes locking with hers. Then, in a gesture so human it made her heart ache, the fox gently set the cub down at her feet and made a low, plaintive sound, a soft purr mixed with a whine.
Ahce crouched slowly, noticing the cub's weak breathing. Its fur was dull, its body trembling. When she looked back at the mother, she saw why it was injured. A deep gash ran along its flank, oozing a faintly glowing purple blood.
"You're hurt…" she murmured softly. "And your baby's sick."
The fox lowered its head, almost as if it understood her.
Without thinking, Ahce set her saber aside and grabbed a small bowl of her braised pork. She placed it near the mother fox. "Eat. You'll need strength."
The fox hesitated but soon began to eat, its movements elegant even in exhaustion. The cub whimpered softly. Ahce lifted it gently, wrapping it in a cloth before placing it near the fire to warm.
