But there was no fox. It was merely the sound of tree branches swaying in the wind, scraping against the wall.
“Ah….”
Hope extinguished as quickly as it had bloomed, leaving only a deeper emptiness in its place. It felt as though rainwater was seeping into his hollow chest.
The sound of rain swallowed the world. Standing beneath it in a daze, Adrian suddenly looked down at himself and let out a soundless laugh. It was self-deprecating. His hair was plastered messily to his face, soaked by the rain, and his clothes were already stained with mud. There was nothing left of the dignity an emperor of a nation should possess.
Why am I doing this?
He’d planned to release that beast back into the forest once its wounds healed anyway. Though the parting had been rather sudden, it was a predetermined ending. Even if it had disappeared, there was no need to concern himself with it. If anything, it was for the best. He would no longer be interrupted in his work, nor would he need to avoid flying fur during meals.
And yet.
Adrian’s feet remained rooted to that spot.
Though he knew he should turn back, his body wouldn’t move. The past days flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern. The wary look in those eyes when they first met, the gradually softening attitude, the moments when the fox had burrowed into his lap as if it were the safest, most comfortable place in the world.
He still needed more time.
That thought suddenly raised its head from a corner of his heart, and Adrian struggled to deny it. What more did he need? The beast’s paw had nearly healed, and returning to nature was the natural course of things. He’d never intended to domesticate it in the first place.
But somewhere in his heart, a different voice whispered.
I’m not ready.
He hadn’t known that parting would come like this—so suddenly, without any farewell. If he were to release the fox, he’d wanted to look into those eyes one last time, to fill its belly on a day when warm sunlight poured down, and to send it off on a safe forest path where predators rarely trod.
At least he had those reasons. Ones that could make sense to himself.
Adrian’s hand unconsciously clenched into a fist. His nails dug into his palm, but it didn’t hurt. Something deeper than the excuses he’d lined up was crushing his chest.
He resented the fox for disappearing without understanding his heart. But that resentment collapsed back inward. If only he’d brought honey before leaving. If only he’d firmly instructed the guards never to open the door when he wasn’t there. No, if only he’d refused the duke’s audience in the first place.
Regret was nothing but a luxury. There was no time to dwell on the past and blame himself. Finding the fox was the most urgent matter now.
Adrian began to search thoroughly again. He couldn’t stop. That small creature was, even at this very moment, huddled somewhere getting drenched by the rain.
Adrian literally combed through the imperial palace as if searching for a flea. But no matter how much he searched, the fox didn’t appear. The rain washed away all traces, and the night only deepened.
***
The rain that had poured for three days straight finally stopped. But the sky still hung heavy with dark clouds.
“Whine….”
The fox was huddled on the cold ground, its body leaning against the base of a tree. Its starving belly ached as if being wrung out. Its wet fur had barely dried, but the chill brought on by hunger hadn’t subsided.
That day, the fox had run blindly in the opposite direction of the light.
Anywhere without people was fine. Running until it felt like its breath would give out, it found itself in the middle of an unfamiliar forest before it knew it. Though it was a place it’d never seen before, it was better than a village teeming with humans. It hid its body beneath a tree and survived for several days by picking up small berries scattered on the ground.
But now, not a single berry was in sight. It would’ve been nice if there were even a carcass someone had partially eaten and abandoned, but even that seemed to have been swept away by the heavy rain. Only wet fallen leaves and broken branches littered the ground.
‘I’m hungry.’
The days at the imperial palace felt like a distant dream. The soft cushions, the warm bed, and the food given every day. The finely minced meat, the sweet honey. All of it now felt like an unreachable fantasy.
Among them all, what it missed most was Adrian.
Even while thinking he must hate it now, it achingly missed his touch, his voice, his embrace. Though it had endured long years without Adrian until now, its body, grown accustomed to his brief care, was already seeking that warmth.
It would have been less agonizing if it had never known from the beginning, but having learned of it, that absence dug in even deeper. The abundance it had briefly enjoyed had instead dulled its sense of survival.
It was just then, as it let out a sigh, that a rustling sound came from beyond the forest.
The fox’s ears perked up reflexively. Could it be Adrian? Had he come to find it? Even knowing it couldn’t be, a thin thread of hope raised its head in its chest.
A small body burst out from between the bushes. It was a rabbit.
A plump rabbit with white fur was nibbling on grass. Disappointment that it wasn’t Adrian surged for a moment. But soon, something more primal stirred deep within its body.
It was hunger.
Gulp. The fox swallowed without realizing it. Its starving instinct whispered.
I have to hunt. I can’t let the rabbit get away. If I don’t catch that, I’ll starve to death like this.
The fox’s pupils narrowed vertically. It moved its body while keeping the sound to a minimum. As it crept over the damp leaves, closing the distance, its heart pounded so violently it felt like it would burst through its ribs.
Could it do this? It could count on one hand the number of times it had succeeded at hunting. When crises struck, its body reacted without knowing, but otherwise, it had always easily let even a small bird slip away.
But this time was different. When the thought came that if it failed this time, it would truly be the end, the wild instinct that had been asleep for long years slowly raised its head.
The distance to the rabbit had grown close enough. This was the moment. The fox kicked off the ground and launched its body. The rabbit raised its head, sensing a presence. Seeing the black shadow cutting through the air, the rabbit instantly turned and fled like an arrow.
“Kyaeng!”
Having missed the rabbit, the fox planted its face straight into the ground. The damp smell of earth and moss stung its nose. Lying prone on the ground, the fox stared blankly at the rabbit’s retreating figure disappearing before its eyes.
“Grruung….”
It knew this would happen. The end was always like this. No matter how many times it tumbled, no matter how many times it gave chase, it always just let it slip away. Whether it was because its legs were slow, or simply because it had no luck—it no longer had the energy to even ponder the reason.
In the end, would it die of starvation like this?
Still, it had endured for quite a long time. Thrown alone onto unfamiliar land, trampled by fellow beasts and humans alike countless times, it had stubbornly survived. It had persevered for a miraculously long time and had even met a fortunate connection, if only briefly. Though it had ended fleetingly, it hadn’t been such a bad life.
With its face buried in the leaves, the fox closed its weary eyes. It no longer had the strength to move its limbs, nor any reason to look forward to tomorrow’s sunlight. Its consciousness was just sinking heavily into darkness like a stone descending into a bottomless abyss when—
The fox’s round, black nose twitched ever so slightly.
This smell…?
A familiar scent, as if carved into the deepest part of its instinct, brushed past its drooping nose. It wasn’t wet earth, nor was it the rabbit’s scent. It wasn’t Adrian’s warm scent either.
The fox’s eyes snapped open. Its dirt-covered ears moved busily as if trying to read the faint sign. Behind it, breaking the silence, came the sound of a dry twig being crushed. When it turned its head, the source of that sound came into view.
It was a wolf.
The fox bolted upright as if struck by lightning. Its senses, numbed by hunger, instantly came back to life as if blood was rushing through them.
The gray-furred wolf’s gaze lingered on the spot where the rabbit had been just moments ago. No, now it was fixed on the fox itself. Yellow eyes similar to Adrian’s yet filled with murderous madness gleamed with hunger. Sticky drool dripped from the corners of its mouth, creating dark stains on the dirt.
“Grrrowl….”
Each time the wolf approached with heavy steps, the fox staggered backward. Its legs trembled weakly. Its body, weakened by starvation, had already reached its limit.
‘Can I run away from that wolf?’
The fox desperately looked around. It was searching for an escape route. But there seemed to be nowhere to flee. Trees and bushes surrounded it on all sides like iron bars. There was only one escape route. The path where the wolf stood blocking—only that way.
The fox tried to find even a faint possibility. But that thought didn’t last long. Because the wolf moved first.
Its massive front paw swung like lightning, cutting through its vision. The fox scraped together its reflexes and threw its body to the side. The seasoned wolf had already predicted that movement. Its thick paw adjusted its trajectory and struck the fox’s flank. The small body was miserably flung into the air with a tearing scream.
“Kyaaeeng!”
A scream tore out as its small body slammed hard into a tree. Its vision flashed like fireworks from the shock that felt like its breath had completely stopped, and excruciating pain from its side rolled in like waves. It couldn’t even properly draw breath.
The wolf’s eyes glittered greedily as it slowly approached the fallen prey. The fox tried to stagger to its feet. But like crumbling earth, unable to rise properly, it collapsed with a thud back onto the spot.
