Too fucking dumb to see their differences, a young duck befriends a witty fox in the mountianside. This odd couple scampered off on wonderful adventures. Oh the days of frolicking and basking in the sun. The duck would fly off intermittently and return. Each time he returned the witty Fox was more and more skittish of the duck. The fox would accuse the duck of trying to somehow deceive it or pull the proverbial wool over its eyes.
The duck had grown quite fond of this fox. And when she would spew her accusations at him, initially it would hurt. But in true duck fashion he would let it roll off his back. Wanting to regain the trust of the fox the duck offered the fox to join him in his adventures. The untrusting fox would merely say, “I couldn’t possibly. My den would be out of order. I cannot possibly leave this place that keeps me lonely.”
The duck begin to use grand gestures to regain the trust of the fox. The duck would help the fox with it’s den. Building things, improving things, the silly duck was bending over backwards for the fox. Anything that the Fox would mention she would like to see done, he was on it.
“Come fly south with me” the duck often asked the fox, “see my life I live away from you.”
“But matters here can’t be handled without my cunning ways.” the fox always replied.
The duck always knew what her answer would be. Each time the duck was about to leave, the fox would begin to change the look in its eyes, as its true nature would begin to surface without her realizing. Her animalistic instincts would surface. She would snarl and bite at the duck, confused and saddened the duck would leave and not look back…
After time, the fox would get word to the duck. Sweet words, kind words, words of regret and remorse. Made to sound sweeter through the delivery of the other woodland creatures, the duck couldn’t resist. He loved the fox after all, and wanted nothing more than to spend his days in the company of this beautiful fox.
Once again, the duck returned to the foxes den. The fox seemed pleased at his return. They spent the day in the familiar ways as they had before. They wore each other out completely, and eventually fell asleep together curled up in a familiar manner. But the duck remained apprehensive, the look in the foxes eyes never returned to the look he used to love. They were more wild, untrusting, almost the same look the duck saw in the wolf that almost killed him years earlier.
They walked down to the spring for a drink. The foxes eyes darkened, the more she drank from the spring. Maybe it was seeing the duck drinking from the same spring… but the fox started to croutch lower as it spoke, “We were never meant to be friends,” she snarled at the duck, “everything you do is a lie. You walk around like it is not in my nature to devour you.” The fox said as it barred its fangs.
“Your right, Fox,” said the duck, “but I know no other way to act around you. I know you love me and would never want to hurt me… I literally know no other way.”
As the duck lowered his head to take another drink from the spring, the fox, unable to control itself further, lunged forward at the unsuspecting duck with its mouth wide open, planting her teeth into the naive ducks neck, pinning the duck to the ground. She tasted the ducks blood as it ran from the corners of her mouth and she felt her primal instincts take over….. she shook the duck violently by his neck. For one moment…. she flashed back to how it used to be between them and released the grasp on the wounded ducks neck and watched his limp body flying towards the spring, then slowly float lifeless down the spring.. far out of her site.
The duck didn’t die, he pulled himself out of the spring and sought help from the other ducks. Flesh wounds were not nearly as severe as the ones to his heart. But the other ducks helped him….
One thing for sure.
THAT DUCK WILL NEVER TRY TO FUCK ANOTHER FOX AGAIN
Stupid fucking duck!