She stopped running. Even in rest, fear pumped her heart with rapid explosions. Her lungs burned. She listened and felt the ground vibrate with the intensity of her persuers. They were almost here. Exhausted, she knew navigating through the wild, bushy forest would be useless. She had to hide. She quickly scooted under a thorn bush, bearing the pain of scratches and torn flesh in silence. She hoped her children were safe.

Her body trembled with chilling fright as she heard the thundering sounds approach her hiding place. Should she run or stay? Should she run or stay? Growling fangs grabbed her leg and pulled her from the thorn bush. One short, scream issued from her as other snarling beasts joined the fray and ripped her fragile body apart.

Hiding behind a tree, three baby foxes watched as a two-legged creature stuffed their mothers limp, bloody body into a sack.

 


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