Had I in some way known the fate that would befall Glidegirl, I could have predicted that it would impact our community in far-reaching ways, but I wouldn’t have imagined the full scope of social upheaval her tragic accident would bring upon the rest of us. My very use of that name for her indicates a few things, one of which is why I don’t try to use our given names. We have dozens of different names that would translate to that same thing in your language.

She and Star were quite close, despite her affiliation with the Ascension exiles or pilgrims, depending on who you asked or what had befallen their fortunes in the last day or so. And the fact that they were together so much was congenial because the two were a striking pair: Glidegirl as beautiful as Star but in a quiet and serene way, her pale violet fur and subtle cream markings a perfect foil to the other’s lurid blaze. She was popular among the other does of her generation, as well, and her co-cultist Stroke practically worshipped at her feet.

The doe clique often drew apart from the main group after dinner and had taken to retiring to a large, moss-covered rock by the water’s edge to chatter, groom the female kits and perhaps dance a little. I often thought their group would make a wonderful painting, the females clustered on the soft moss, Star and Glidegirl and Carat and Semi shining in their center. On that day they were dancing around the rock, laughing at some slight jest, when Glidegirl spotted violets blooming at the edge of the underbrush. She ran to pick one, then held it up to the view of the others, modeled it as a hat and pectoral adornment while they applauded and poked fun. She was the center of attention, laughing animatedly with the purple flower setting off the paler violet of her pelt, so every one of us saw exactly what happened.

The fox flashed from out of the brambles too fast for me to really understand what happened. For a confused second I thought Star had sprung some surprise on her friend. But there was no confusing the snap of the jaws around Glidegirl’s body. She screamed twice, then seemed to mercifully lose consciousness as the fox shook her. Dropping her to the ground, the animal starting ripping her apart, splashing blood as it tore her open and greedily swallowed pieces of her. The sheer horror of it–a beast hunching over our friend with her blood dripping from its snout and fangs, noisily chewing into her vitals–immobilized most of us. For a frozen moment we watched a predator devouring one of us, too shocked to move. Even the kits were silent, staring aghast at the massacre.

Given the characters of our two leading males, it’s not surprising that Point and Greater Than were the first to snap out of the mind-numbing paralysis, nor what paths their actions took. As soon as they moved, the kits seemed to awaken to reality and started wailing; a wilder kind of shrieking than I’d heard from them before. Females joined them, and many males as well. There was something more elemental and subconsciously brutal about this attack than our previous bouts of terror such as the crash-landing.

Point ran immediately towards the does and kits, his frantic hand motions bringing Underscore, Strikeout, and Dollar with him in his probably foolhardy drive to protect them. Greater Than snatched up his the always-sharpened tchurix he made from a sixteen penny nail and headed straight for the fox, loping across the grass with powerful strides. Without the slightest delay Dash had his own tchurix in hand and was running behind him. Bracket, who had been backing away from the sight of Glidegirl’s evisceration shaking his head and whimpering, seemed to take heart from Dash’s example and took a faltering step after the two Trinchans, then broke into a run. I gained more respect for his intelligence when he halted abruptly, ran back to the fire to grab a burning stick, and carried it towards the doomed attack on the red, bloody monster.

There is no question that attack was undertaken with cold, hard courage, but I was more impressed by the valiant sally led by Point. The four males ran unarmed into a proximity to the fox that would have allowed no escape had it turned on them and the females. I noticed that none of them even looked at the huge animal as they ran towards the helpless females. It struck me that I might be watching a scenario in which our ranks would be drastically depleted by the death of our fertile females and most useful males.

But the fox was still feeding and keeping an eye on the charging Greater Than, who had started screaming a guttural war challenge, presumably to fix its attention on himself. Point’s rescue party reached the rock and started snatching up kits while roughly shoving hysterical does out of harm’s way. Point wisely made no attempt to return to the safety of the Oak, but pointed to a large tree trunk washed up on a pile of larger rocks. The others immediately saw that their best hope for protection lay in burrowing into the rock pile. They ran for it, the females now moving purposely and silently, carrying kits as they ran.

All but Star, who made no move to run for safety with the others. The males had too much on their hands to compel her, so she stood alone in the open, quivering violently with crest erect and ears laid back and twitching. Her knees were bent, her fists clenched and seemed to be hyperventilating. I hoped she didn’t pass out, but could see no steps I could take. She stood where the fox could have been on her in two leaps, but instead it turned to confront Greater Than and Dash, whose particular display of insane bravery had succeeded in engaging its full, dire attention.

Eyeing the two, who were both screaming now, and Bracket running up behind them carrying his firebrand, the fox dropped Glidegirl’s ragged remains and moved towards them, sniffing the air and dripping reddish slaver from fangs the size of Dash’s legs. It crouched lower and lower as it slid toward them and I could envision exactly what would happen: a spring, a snap of those huge teeth, and we’d lose two more of our population.

Greater Than visibly squared off and steeled himself to meet the lunge, crouching to plant the butt of his tchurix on the ground. Dash immediately copied the tactic, which I could see was a sound one, but couldn’t think that it would buy any time or advantage against the pounce of such a huge enemy. Its preparation to hurtle forward was so obvious from its posture that a shrill, mournful cry went up from all of us in general. Then the fox gave a barking yelp and leaped straight up into the air.

Coming at the moment of greatest suspense and fear, this unexpected action drew shrieks and gasps from many of us. The fox twisted in mid-air, coming down facing the woods. It rolled on the ground nipping at its buttocks. Something had happened, had caught it at exactly the same tense moment as our own, startling and scaring it. It gave up nipping at its own rump and stared, searching, into the brush.

I didn’t actually see it from where I stood, but others caught the shining flash from the briarpatch to the beast’s nose though they had no idea what it meant. None among us was unaware that the fox jumped again, yowling in pain. As it thrashed its head, even I could see a slim shaft protruding from the soft dark flesh of its nostrils.

Then At and Question ran from the thorny cover screaming and pulling back their bows to loose more shots. Dropping to one knee, At released an arrow that leapt across two bodylengths and stuck in the fox’s foreleg. Question continued charging, firing his bow as he ran and screaming a high pitched war cry of his own devising. His arrow missed, but only because the fox had leapt away from them. It made for the woods, scooping up Glidegirl’s body as it ran, and vanished into the darkening trees.

Stroke was still screaming, jumping up and down in place emitting an ululating shriek of terror and pain that was affecting the kits, and even us adults. Greater Than watched the fox flee into the woods, then turned and stomped back among us radiating anger. As he passed Stroke he grabbed her at the nape and pressed his fingers into the base of her ears, shutting off blood flow to her brain until she lost consciousness and fell silent to the ground. I have to say it was a relief. That poor girl received brutal handling every time Greater Than touched her, but it was always to the best for her. A curious relationship.

The group around the fire was joined by the females and Point’s party, all running and looking over their shoulders towards the now completely dark woods. Hugs were exchanged, masculine taps of congratulation were passed, kits were soothed and coddled. We stood in circles around the fire, underlit by the ruddy flicker, and essentially huddled together against the fears of the dark. Something had changed between the dying of day and fall of night. The paradise we had become accustomed to had shown that it had hungry teeth, and reached out to bite the tripes out of each one of us. We were no longer alone, no longer completely safe. We were no longer all survivors.