Novel & Cerita Growling Fox

Beast Growling. Furious growling. That’s what wakes me up from my nap. It’s not my stomach, that’s for sure. I slowly open my eyes, letting them adjust to the surroundings. It’s not that dark anymore, so I’m guessing it’s around dawn, as there is no sunlight yet. I look down to locate the source of the noise, my eyes slightly opening in surprise when they lock onto the familiar grey wolf. He’s furiously growling at me and scratching the ground beneath him with quick, angry moves.

Draven yelled, “Oliver, the head!” Oliver nodded and quickly used the tree to jump on the fox’s head. He made a ball of fire in his hand and with a grunt, pushed it inside the fox’s head. The fox struggled, lifting its sharps claws in the air trying to grab both Draven and Oliver. “AHHHHHHH!” BANG! BOOM! BOOGSH! BLAGSH!

WHEN I arrived at the forest, where all of the nine-tailed foxes were gathered, I saw them running toward me. I immediately hear her scream. Not in the middle of the running foxes, but beside me. Not exactly, just on the side of me. "HIRO! GO AWAY!" Amaya shouted. I didn't bother to look at her, because I remembered what Venus said. I closed my eyes. And when I opened it, it changes its color just like a while ago— orange. Then I glowed like I was a Meralco who's serving light among the world.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" "It's splendid!" Leaf squealed. I looked towards the talker and flinched with shock and fear when I saw a fox sitting in front of me. The fox was 5.7ft tall, with rose gold fur with a long white streaky trailing from his head to his fluffy tail. His paws were white too and the inside of his ears red. He was beautiful. "Love you!" Leaf shrieked. "You are so cute, Foxy!"

“Where’d you learn that?” “High school,” Jake said, slamming it into gear. “Long story.” Tyres shrieked on torn asphalt. The W.R.X. launched. Wolves pounded after them, then one by one peeled off, howls echoing under concrete. At the head of the pack, a scarred she-wolf—taller, broader—snarled, snapping at a male that edged too close. They didn’t follow. They watched. They always watched. Jake tore a glance in the mirror. Nothing but yellow eyes and patient rage.

The fog slinks across the ground, wrapping around my ankles and giving my calves a chilly touch. As I reach the middle of the third ridge, I notice some movement. I heard a rustling sound on the left. Then a chuckle. Squeaky. That's really high. "Oh no," I mutter, slowing down. A glowing figure darts between the trees. Then another. Then three. Four. Glimmering, silvery, and suspiciously fox-shaped. "You lot again." The spirit foxes pop out, showing off their sharp little teeth and eyes that shine like polished moonstones. They bounce around me in a circle, their tails waving like flags.

When I finally heard him, my blood ran cold. “Come here foxy fox. Come here, foxy fox. I wanna play some more.” Did my green eyes really give me away as the Fox, or was it a coincidence, because he seemed to like to give nicknames to the people he harassed? I sat in that tree for what seemed like forever. Besides my heartbeat, I heard nothing and saw nothing of Ezra.

Teeth dug into her neck. Camela gasped, unable to scream as fear gripped her chest. Instead of ripping her flesh off, the jaws just pressed her down—hard and unyielding, holding her in place. She felt hot breath scorched her skin while cold saliva ran down her neck. Desperately, she clawed at the fur, her nails scraping against it. “Let me go…” she screamed. The fox growled softly, a sound that vibrated through her bones as the pack circled tighter around her. Every eye glimmered with desire, and every mouth dripped with hunger.

I lost it and let out a rumbling growl that shook the pack to its core. It was an instance of pure character; the frustration and rage that had been growing inside of me, suddenly spilled in the form of a deep, primal growl. Even coming from myself, the sound was unlike anything I had ever heard. It was guttural and loud, trembling the pack to its very core. The snarl reverberated across the pack, stopping all movement. The other wolves were startled and froze in their tracks, with ears perking with fright. They were aware that this growl was intense and filled with pure emotion rather than an ordinary growl.

It feels divine to stretch my bones after being locked away in that pack. The wind picks up, sweeping dust into my eyes as I accelerate. I shake my head but keep moving, still battling the bloodlust clawing at my throat. It must wait. I catch the scent of a fox nearby. A bleeding one. The metallic tang of its blood hits my nostrils and I snarl. My pace slows as my snout flares and my mouth begins to drool. I can hear its whimpers, its pained, bitter cries. I want nothing more than to end its misery and soak my paws in the hot rush of its blood, but there is no time.