A Fox

　　A fox. A real live red fox, tiny, with a small patch of darker fur just above its left front leg. Like a beauty spot.

　　Its eyes are so kind I just about to burst. That same look in another human's eyes, and my soul would be theirs for sure.

　　

　　I don't want it to run off. I want it to stay here forever. I want it to watch over the tent, like a sphinx, a bodyguard, a dragon.

　　With the fox out front, the outcasts' tent is transformed into tent of miracles.

　　

　　I draws near. One step, two.

　　I don't have any bread, fox. But come closer anyway. Come.

　　Three steps, four.

　　

　　It's within a few inches of my fingertips. With its ears pricked, it looks like it's waiting for me to tell a joke.

Jane, the fox and me, P78-79
by Fanny Britt, illustrated by Isabelle Arsenault
ISBN 978-1-55498-360-5