Withered Foxy Voice Line Novels & Stories

Warmth floods immediate—gentle flames seeping into wounds, bones knitting with crackles of mending fire, blood retreating, lungs clearing. *Kayo Ultimate: Nine-Tail Restoration – Full Heal* *Rowan HP: Critical → one hundred percent* *Temporary Buff: Foxfire Vitality (+forty percent Regeneration, ten minutes)* She cradles me mid-air, hovering steady, eyes wet with fury and fear and something softer. Tails curl protective. **Kayo (voice shaking, close to my ear):** “You absolute idiot scholar… Why did you do that?” I cough once—clear now—manage a weak, blood-flecked smile.

When he spoke, his voice was calm, almost conversational, which made it more terrifying than any roar. "Level 200, Alpha Wolf," he stated. The words hit me harder than the **Crimson Judgment Fist** had. My head snapped up, disbelief overriding the pain. "Level… 200?" I repeated, stupidly. My voice cracked. "That’s… that's impossible."

The line went dead. ******

Ciel’s voice was loud but it seemed to have been devoured by the open desert. The wind grew strong around me, making me falter and almost lose my footing. Whispering the very last line of the spell, the wind calmed in a snap and everything grew too quiet. I looked around and saw the sands around me suspended in mid-air. Looking behind me, I saw several of the silver foxes stuck in the air as if they were just exquisite paintings. I gulped when I noticed Ciel’s spell remained a few meters away from me.

Everyone sighs deeply in relief when I hear the wheels screeching on the asphalt, indicating that they’re gone. Beware of the Fox? These four words are keep playing on my mind even Francois is long gone. Fox? FOX Fuck! François Oscar Xavier. François Oscar Xavier is the Fox.

he frowns. “I’m not going to complete my transformation now, silly, she wants him to introduce himself”, I ask. “Ah, yeah, right,” he shakes his head. "It's okay, he won't shut up anyway." I laugh and barely have time to finish before I'm pushed to the back of my mind, only to see Fawn and Mark interact. “Mate,” he says, touching my face. "Mate," she says, imitating him. "I'm Mark," he murmurs, his voice thick, hoarse, slightly distorted. The kind of voice we expect from a strong, healthy wolf.