Nixius isn't one of those foxes who hides his past from others. Nor is he a fox who has a dramatic past and chooses to fuss over it. What's gone is gone, and he has no fear of allowing others to know about it. The thing is... No fox every asked about what came to this wanderer before he stumbled across the skulk. Nix has a bewildering history, one that is very much disparate and contrasting to his current charisma. Some foxes have less of a sanity level than others...
The kit tilted his cranium at a diagonal angle as he watched the discharging aqua lap breathlessly, hungrily at his small fondles. With a cry, it dashed backward, crashing head-first into a much larger fox. It's eyes were onyx obsidian, gawking and consuming his soul.
"You foolish piece of apparatus, turn tail on me and get your filthy carcass into that estuary!"
The younger flinched at the gesture toward himself being an object. He turned edgily toward the viciously flowing liquid. Come to me, it seemed to whisper cruelly, lashing out tentacles of azure solvent.
"Move it Nixius, move your selfish frame!"
The young kit, Nixius by name, let out a pained, howling lament as a scratching limb crashed violently into his hindquarters, propelling him into the icy depths. Instantly, Nixius struggled crazily, body parts flailing as he coped to stay afloat. The angry river growled at him, pushing him around and knocking him against rocky slabs rising from the riverbed. His banner caught in a crevice between two boulders and pulled him down to the dark, muddy bottom. Nixius gasped for air, swallowing mouthfuls of gravelly, mucky mahogany water. He clutched, sobbing loudly into the disgusting river, at the small rocks littering the riverbed. The midday sun glittered overhead, watching as this few week old fox kit panicked from watery lungs. Nixius let out a final cry, and it all went dark.
~
Spluttering, the fuchsia blush in the sky revealed evening. Dark ebony discs stared into soft golden circles of innocence. As Nixius took a deep breath of air, he spat up seemingly tonnes of water, before collapsing in a shuddering white-brown heap. A unsheathed paw smacked him across his ear, shredding it, making him screech in pain.
"Foolish component, fearing the elements like... like the dirt you are!"
The smack came again, making Nixius quiver. Then, he drifted into a much needed slumber, lying motionless in the Summer grass.
~
When he awoke, it was early dawn. Six larger arctic foxes crouched over him. Each had black, soulless eyes.
"Greetings hibernation kit, up from your trance?" four hissed simultaneously, strange enough to make even the bravest fox cringe slightly.
"Pity it was no death." one of the sixlets muttered piercingly.
"Don't let Master hear you say that!" another cried, slapping him with a unsheathed forepaw. "We need him alive, remember?"
"Why?" he replied. "I still don't get it."
"Because he wants to use him to give to Yahweh."
All of them winced at the name of this strange presence.
"Who is Yahweh? Why does he want me?" Nixius squeaked.
"Shush, runt-brother. You have no right to utter the name." one snarled.
"Mine property, come to my forepaws, incline mine presence." A booming voice echoed from Nixius' right where he lay on the floor. "Master." The sixlets crawled forward, dropping to their bellies like snakes to acknowledge their father's entrance.
"Have thine readied the gift?"
Soon, words merged into darkness as Nix fell asleep once more.
~
When he awoke, it was dark. The moon and it's starry waltzers patrolled from above. Nixius lay on a bay where the river met the lake. He had never been to this place. His siblings and father always caught him and punished him severely for nearing within a mile of it. Now, as he rose to paws, his banner stuck out and bushed up, cautious. Several stone pillars circled the immense lagoon. Each were lanky and unnatural, possibly built by foolish arctic foxes themselves for some unknown, insane reason. Disorientation and abashment welled in the fox kit's belly. What was going on? A single, flat stone platter lay in the lake. From view, the lake was very deep, so the platter must have been deep itself. Luminescence scintillated tormentingly against the rippling reservoir. As Nixius looked around, he blinked in disbelief. All of a sudden, as if out of nowhere, he was circled by seven sitting arctic foxes, each perfectly cotton-alabaster, as they had not shed their Winter coat to their Summer. They began circling in silence. Nixius tilted his crown.
The kit felt heavyhearted and anxious. He was born the runt of the litter. He was the only kit of the seven who had inherited the motherly chocolate gaze. He was born three months after the sixlets. His mother mysteriously disappeared a week after his birth. Now that he thought about it, Yahweh had been mentioned a lot, like some sick, crazy religion stuck in these foxes heads. It was as if... As if his father had waited for a runt to give to this elusive Yahweh.
Rain poured, as if from nowhere, so sudden it was terrifying. He was nudged by invisible paws toward the lake edge, where he dug his talons into the dirt and refused to budge a inch. As paws shoved him through the water to the island in the center of the lake, he spun in a neat semicircle and dashed to land, attaching himself to the ground.
"My lovely little object." his father hissed, and swung extended talons toward the fox kit's left eye.
~
Nixius licked his forepaw in silence. The crimson blood left stains deep into his coat. He strolled in elegance toward the small pool under the glowing tree canopy. It would start getting cold again soon, and his fur would shed then grow from the golden ecru it currently was to a achromatic, bleached white. The scent of foxes met his glands and he twitched a shredded ear. Eyes flickered, then returned to the water. One flawless, chocolate, inherited eye. One glacial, cold eye with a four-pronged scar scratching from the top of the eye to the bottom. Blood soaked the left half of his face, and all around his maw. The kit licked his lips, tasting the sweet blood of a kill, before turning away from the pool and heading deeper into the Summer forest.
~
A arctic fox lay in a neat curl under a prickly holly bush, surrounded by many yew bushes with the deadly berries hanging from the tip of every branch; scarlet, tempting, delicious... Deadly. This arctic fox had mismatched eyes. It seemed about four years of age, almost. It rose to four paws and skittered off, as though chasing invisible prey. It halted as it's paws splashed into a cold liquid. He glanced down. Water from a small, thin river. As the fox lent forward to gave at his reflection, he moved a paw over a sensitive, knitted ear. It was pink in some places, as though it was not always whole. His one chocolate eye reflected in the water. His other icy blue eye reflected in a brighter fashion, offering a blinding light toward the suns rays. The fox lent closer to the water. Very, very faint pink lines, four, to be exact, rippled neatly over the blue eye. So far away, these marks seemed. The fox chuckled to himself, stepping over the water as though it were fire, and tasting the air.
