Not about a fox. Simple, mind wandering writing. No follow on.
|The evening star came down to meet them, resting softly in her hands. She, illuminated by its pale light, felt the prickle of it on her fingers, and while she held it its light pooling in her hands.
“What shall I do with it?” she asked the dog.
His black body gathered all the light and swallowed it, but the dark jewels that adorned him returned the light with winks of acknowledgment. His long head turned to look at her.
“What shall you do with it? Perhaps the silver fox will want it?” it suggested.
“No.” she said and curled the star into the safety of her folded arm. “The fox shall not have it.”
And her soft web like form sank slowly to the ground. The dog curled his large protective body around her, as they pondered.
“I think the silver fox will have it.” The dog suggested again. The sea beside them lapped gently, as if it didn’t even know they were there. Its waves did not return the star’s light.
“Perhaps. I do not want to keep it.”
And they sat silently. Perhaps they fell asleep, and melted with the dawning sun.