I didn’t proofread this. So. Please forgive me.

Juniper stopped trotting and licked his nose, his breath coming from his mouth like a warm cloud. It was so cold. 

“What are you doing? It’s freezing out here,” said a soft voice. Juniper swung his head around and caught sight of a fluffy tail just vanishing behind a tall stump. He knew it was Fir, and so he didn’t say anything. He just turned around twice, tracing patterns in the snow all around him with his white-tipped tail. 

“Don’t be a regular bore,” said Fir from behind the rock. “I’ve come to cheer you up.”

“Oh you have, have you,” said Juniper sulkily. 

“You’ve done the same for me many times.”

“That’s not the point.”

Fir said nothing for a few seconds, and Juniper huffed. Of course she’d left. He was in a bad mood and no one liked to stay around when he was in a bad mood. But she hadn’t. She came slowly from behind the rock and stood watching him for a few seconds. Should she tell him? But he wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t do anything. He would just sit and look at the snow as if he hadn’t heard. He’d continue cowering as he had done since the first day everything was turned upside down. The internal struggle lasted for a few seconds longer and then her mind made itself up.  

“Alright, cousin,” she said finally. “I lied. I didn’t come to cheer you up.”

“Then why come at all? You know this is my spot and when I’m in my spot I don’t like you coming around.”

Fir swallowed and licked her lips nervously. “I heard some news that I thought you might find interesting,” she said. 

“Nothing is interesting anymore,” said Juniper lazily, yawning and turning over on his back and stretching his paws in the air. 

“Ever since she came you’ve lost all will to take interest in anything or anyone,” snapped Fir. She was surprised at how angry she sounded. 

“That’s because there’s no point. We can’t do anything. Might as well submit. I don’t feel like being turned into a piece of stone.”

“I didn’t bring that up.”

“But you were going to. I know you.” 

Fir didn’t say anything. She just sat down next to Juniper and let out a sigh. 

“We might as well wait it out, Fir. She hasn’t done anything to us personally.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. It will get there eventually.”

“Not if we keep quiet. And you seem to be bad at that. You’re always making people think about spring and flowers and… and…” his voice lowered, “and the old stories.” He looked away. 

Fir smiled sadly. “You know we want those days back,” she said. 

“The wolves don’t. They seem content with where we’ve come too. Even the dwarfs seem happy. What if we’re looking at it all wrong?”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, you’re right, I don’t.”

“But you still won’t do anything about it?”

“I don’t see the point.”

Fir sighed again and started to get up. “I guess I’ll tell you the news before I go. It won’t do any good I’m well aware. But I thought I might as well.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Honest, you’ll get us in trouble,” Juniper said, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Oh stop it, no one’s here.” 

“Unfortunately for me.”

“They say there’s an uprising, Juniper,” said Fir hastily, as if she feared she’d change her mind about telling him. “Some are being designated to spread the word and begin preparing for the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve to take their rightful thrones. I’m one of the messengers. She can’t rule forever.”

“Sons of Adam? Here? Don’t be ridiculous. You know the law,” said Juniper. He fought to keep his voice sarcastic and biting. Why did his heart bound so painfully? 

“Yes, you know the old stories.” 

“Of course. But this is ridiculous. There’s no chance.”

“Aslan. Juniper, listen to me. Aslan. He’s here. He’s come.” Fir’s voice became choked and hoarse. “There’s hope.”

“Hope, eh?” said a low voice behind them. “Hope? A fool’s hope maybe, but no more.”

The two foxes spun around, their hearts pounding. Sitting directly behind them, drooling out of both corners of its mouth, sat a large grey wolf. He rolled his head to one side and stared at them with burning yellow eyes. 

Fir had let out a small yelp at first and jumped behind Juniper. But the wolf stared at them, unblinking, she seemed to gain some sort of confidence or boldness that Juniper couldn’t understand. 

“We have more hope than you will ever have,” she said slowly, her voice growing more and more steady.

The wolf let out a rumble of a laugh. “You forget who our Queen is, runt.” 

“Maybe she is your Queen, but she is not mine,” said Fir clearly. She almost sounded lighthearted. Juniper felt anger begin to stir. Fir was being senseless. 

“She is your Queen, even if you don’t choose to acknowledge it,” growled the wolf. 

“My allegiance belongs to another, a greater! I would not have your Queen even if death was the only alternative,” said Fir, and she actually laughed. Juniper felt something boil up inside him and he didn’t know what to do. He felt like he would either fly at the throat of the wolf or at the throat of his cousin. But he didn’t have a chance. The wolf pounced and sunk his teeth deep into her side, shaking her with all his might. 

All the anger in Juniper melted into an overwhelming feeling of terror and he fled. He could hear the wolf pursuing him and he could feel the hot moist breath on his fur. There was nowhere to hide. The trees offered no protection. He should turn around and face the monster, but the cowardice inside pushed him to run harder, faster. It seemed hours before his strength finally gave way. His paw slipped on some ice beneath him and he fell, his last vestige of energy draining from him in an instant. Juniper expected to feel sharp teeth in his neck the next second, but nothing came. Had he outrun the wolf? He was vaguely aware of his surroundings. He was close to Badger’s house. He was actually right on top of it, as the door was set in the small hill he was on. 

And then one small thought came crashing down on him. Fir. His one reminder of warmth and goodness and spring. She had been his best friend, and his little light of hope. What was it that had given her so much faith in the old stories? Sons of Adam and daughters of Eve? Did she really believe in the Lion? 

Out in the distance he heard a howl. The wolf must be recruiting more of his kind to help hunt him down. He didn’t have long to lay there. With a sigh, he scrambled to his feet and then he froze as he heard voices, distant and muffled like they were underground. The voices became more and more distinguishable. There was a rock to his right and he ducked behind it. 

After some scraping and shoving noises and a hurried scramble of feet, he knew that the group had come out from under the rise of ground he now stood on. And then there was a strange hush. The fox peered out from around his rock and saw five figures all standing at the bottom of the dip in land. Two beavers and three others. They were strange. He’d never seen anything like them. 

“I’m sorry,” said one beaver. 

“He was my best mate,” said the other. 

“What happened here?” asked the biggest of the three strangers. 

And then he heard the howl. It wasn’t as far off as he had expected. Suddenly Juniper understood what he must do, and he bounded down the little slope toward the five.

 

Love,

Hannah Jo <3