Irony? Poetic justice? Gift from above? He really didn’t care. It gave him immense satisfaction to beat the living daylights out of a wolverine that had wandered to fox cave. Slowly rotting carcass of the deer had drawn it there. Fox had attacked. Ruckus had woken Logan up.
He had gotten there when wolverine had already maimed the mother. It was trying to fit through the narrow opening of the cave, all attention turned to the whimpering cubs inside when he grabbed it and threw it several meters. He had to give some credit. Instead of backing away wolverine had charged straight at him. It had gotten in some good, solid bites and scratches before he managed to snap its spine.
Fox had been still alive. In poor condition. There had been no way it would have been able to take care of the cubs.
*Would you cut it out? I’ll throw you out, kids or no kids if you don’t stop bitching every time I move or breathe.* His new companion was less than satisfied. Fox was downright horrified, and angry as hell. He was sitting in front of the entrance, blocking its way out. Fox was growling and whining in the furthest corner of his cave, cubs tucked behind and under it. Its left front paw was limp, torn mess of bloodied fur and muscle. Several deep gouges marred its back and sides. Right ear was torn in half.
*Look… You don’t like me that much. I get it. But those kids of yours will fucking starve if you die on me. Calm down. Let me look at you. I won’t hurt you…* He crawled closer to the fox, keeping the entrance behind his back, trying to appear as small and harmless as possible. Fox curled down, shielding the cubs. He grabbed it carefully and lifted it to his lap for closer inspection. Row of small but sharp teeth sunk to his thigh. He resisted the urge to retaliate, only small warning murmur rolled from his throat.
To his amazement there were no broken bones. It didn’t change the fact that fox was lame, alone it would be as good as dead. Same faith would wait its cubs.
*What the hell do I do with you?* He muttered, letting the fox back to cubs. It limped to the corner, collecting all three little furballs at its feet, fixing fiery eyes to Logan. Hard stare told him that the animal would never trust him.
*Hell… You decide. It’s your life,* he huffed and moved out of the way. Fox fell silent, eyes darting between him and now open entrance. It took few careful steps, then turned towards the cubs. It was torn. It couldn’t leave the cubs here. It couldn’t stay here with them.
Blood trickled from the wounds, dark red splotches on the sand. Fox looked about ready to keel over. It probably would be for the best if it died. It was clearly in pain. He rose from where he sat and picked it up. It struggled a bit, then settled down, all fight and fire from yellow eyes gone. He walked out from the cave, little further to the woods.
*I’ll take care of those little critters of yours. I promise.* He knew his words most likely meant absolutely nothing to the fox, but they made him feel marginally better. He knew he would never forget the sound the fox’s neck made when he snapped it.
He buried the carcass under a big fir before returning to cave. Bravest of the three cubs had already wandered outside, and he picked it up and carried it back inside, placing it to the company of the two others.
*Okay, kids. Daddy takes a small nap. Play nicely…* He laid down in front of the entrance, blocking it with his body to keep his newly acquired litter from running away.
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