The three-tailed fox cub crouched in the shadows at the edge of the clearing. There was that man again, pouring scraps to the eager dogs circling him in a frenzy of wagging tails and excited barks.

Stupid mutts, she thought, raising her snout. Can't even hunt themselves anymore.

The smell of bones and fresh meat hit like thunder through the nose, a rush carrying the notes of a banquet.

The marrow called first—rich, dense, oily—inviting, like a secret hidden deep in stone, waiting to be cracked open and savored. Around it clung the sharp tang of blood, metallic and wild, sparking instincts older than memory.

The flesh itself breathed warmth, soft and fat-edged, a perfume that was both comfort and conquest lingering in the morning mist. Each whiff was a map, a memory, a story: where the beast had run, what it had eaten, how its heart had raced before it stilled. To the fox, it wasn't just food; it was everything the body could dream of, all at once. It made the world pulse with unbearable need. And those mutts were eating it without any effort of their own.

"Woof!"

"Arf!"

"Bow-wow!"

She glared at them, their wagging tails, their loud and exciting barks. She watched them tear into the juicy meat. Her ears twitched at the clatter of bone against stone, at the low murmur of the man's voice, tender in its roughness, eyes bright with a mixture of hunger and envy.

What useless losers! Travesty of a hunter!

She didn't understand why the dogs groveled so openly, nor why the human gave so freely. But she would steal some of that juicy meat for herself. She had a plan, and the means, because, of course, she was no mere mutt; she was a superior being.

She stayed downwind, advancing with utter care through the dense underbrush. Dewdrops rained upon her pelt each time she brushed against something. But the dogs remained none the wiser. She stalked closer and closer, hiding in the shadows, until she was close enough to catch every detail of their forms, every note of their musky smells.

Then she started casting an illusion upon herself.

Those stupid mutts can't cast an illusion either. Foxes are indeed way better than dogs.

They would never see her coming. First, she shifted her ears into that sloppy nonsense those dogs had.

How can they even hear anything like that? No wonder they haven't detected me yet.

Then she shifted the color of her fur, from coppery-red to that dirty and spotted ochre color most of the pack had. What else? Size? Not a problem. Body-shape? She tilted her head sideways. They were bulky, not slender like a proper fox. Not a problem to imitate either.

She stepped forward, toward the call of the breaking bones, but paused mid-step.

Smell.

She couldn't forget about her scent. She almost made an amateur mistake, like when she started hunting and didn't understand how those pesky rabbits could sense her all the time before she could pounce on them. But she was a professional hunter, now, a master of disguise. Casting a fake scent upon herself was cubsplay.

So, she raised her snout again and started casting an olfactory illusion.

The scent of the pack hit like a wall, thick and layered, a chorus of odors tangled together. It was musk and sweat, sharp with dominance and edged with challenge, hostile to outsiders. But they wouldn't be able to detect her as an outsider once she finished mimicking it. Each dog had its own note that blended into one heavy, foreign chord. There was the hot bite of aggression, the sour tang of anxiety. It told the fox who was the leader of the pack, who was respected, and who was submissive.

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But something was off. There was no leader in the pack.

Is the human their leader? She snorted and shook her head. Strange. Is it because he feeds them?

Their paws carried the dust and grass of the planes, outside the forest, where she had never ventured herself, alien soil, strange wind, strange lives. To her nose, it wasn't just a smell; it was an intrusion. But they had meat to spare. And she would get her part. A tax for daring to intrude into her territory, without respecting the scent marks she left on the borders.

Rude idiots!

She strolled out of hiding without fear, content with her disguise. Some dogs looked up, sniffing at her briefly, then returned to their meals because she was one of them; their eyes and noses told them so.

Stupid idiots!

"Woof, woof," they barked, circling the man, pleading for more with puppy eyes and lolling tongues.

"Yip, yip!" barked the fox to blend in. Some dogs snapped their heads toward her.

Not like that, then. I need to cast an auditory illusion, too.

"Yip, woof!" she said. "Bow, wow."

They lost interest in her. What a primitive and vulgar accent!

Her eyes went wide when the man materialized another mountain of meat out of thin air.

An illusion?

No. It was real food! She needed to find out how he did that! But it could wait after filling her belly.

She tore into the meat, shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the pack.

The taste was dense, wild, and untamed, not a prey she was familiar with. Not from the forest. How did that man manage to transport it while keeping it fresh? Another secret to discover, or maybe the same?

She sank her teeth into the meat with a tearing satisfaction. Fibers snapped, releasing a flood of juices that were darker, richer than the rabbits, the deer, the grouse. It carried the weight of vast plains, of muscle built on endless running, of earth and grass pressed into every bite. It was delicious, new. Her tongue reveled in the iron tang of blood. Slick fat coated her jaws. She could feel the animal's strength flooding into her bones with each bite, the mana thrumming through her veins, filling her core, promising to make her stronger.

Stealing this treasure from those losers was the best idea ever.

The ground disappeared, gravity shifted, and the massive bone she was munching on fell out of her paws. What was happening?

"Yip!" she yelped.

The world stopped moving. She looked down at the dogs. They watched her with interest for a brief instant before returning to their meal. Then she looked up and came face-to-face with the human. He was holding her up by the scruff of her neck.

Shit! she thought. How did he detect me?

She wasn't too alarmed, because she didn't detect hostility from the man. What she sensed was amusement?

"What do we have here? Hmm?" said the man. "A fox, huh? You are really good with those illusions for your age, almost fooled me."

The fox-cub didn't understand the strange sounds coming out of the man's mouth, but she understood the intent behind them clearly. The human was an intelligent being, not something primitive like those dogs.

"Yip?" she said. "Yip, yip!"

"Oh! Sure, sorry!"

The man put her down. She didn't run away immediately. Instead, she tilted her head. The dogs ignored them. "Yip?"

"How did I discover you?" The corners of the man's lips turned up. "Well, easy. Your disguise was really good, but you forgot one detail."

"Yip?"

"No, it's not that. It's something simple, really. Dogs don't have three tails."

The fox-cub whipped her head around, at her fluffy tails, then at the dogs.

"Yip?" she said, confused.

"No, no, it's not because they are weaker than you. Dogs never grow additional tails, even strong ones."

The cub wanted to disappear in shame, to melt into the shadows. What a mistake! How could she have known?

"You want to come with us?" asked the man. The cub stopped in place, tilting her head. "You are strong for your age and smart. But I can teach you how to become even stronger. How to survive in the wider world."

The cub listened, intrigued. She could sense that the man was strong, even if he tried to hide his presence. She had sensed it for an instant when he forgot his tight grip on his aura. He was strong, stronger than her mother, who had left her to fend for herself not that long ago. Maybe she could learn the man's secrets, then she would be able to steal everybody's hunts. Hunting was fun, but leading others around by the nose was even better. Yes, she would play along, become a real dog until she learned the man's secrets.

"Yip!" she barked.

"Great!" exclaimed the man. "We are going to have so much fun together!"

"Yip!"

"You need a name." The man stroked his beard. "I think I'll call you Bae."

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