again. Soon the marks would fade. Soon no-one would ever know about the fox or her mistake. An hour into her search she heard the fox and froze. The vixen screamed for her pups. She listened. The vixen called out again… nothing… Aybelline slipped through the low hanging branches until she came to the edge of a steep slope. The tracks continued down. Something snapped under her boot. It was a chicken’s wishbone. She knew there was no going back. Gingerly placing one foot onto the slope, and the next, she made her way, halfsliding, down the hillside. One leg slipped. She fell onto her back and tumbled, and rolled, striking bumps sharply, and landed, crashing her head, at the bottom. Her mind darkened. When she awoke everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Her eyes focused on the dark, cold, and starless sky. She turned her head. Shadows surrounded her. One crept forward. She eased herself up onto her side. The vixen stood, staring, vaguely curious but cautious of this new and alien presence. Aybelline scrambled. The vixen ran. Four gunshots echoed for miles, paused, then rang again, and again, and then… ‘click! click! CLACK!’ …And now the fox was gone. Snowflakes plummeted through the darkness and Aybelline was lost. Everything was lost. All context had been erased and all she could do was walk. Maybe someone would find the revolver she’d left abandoned, somewhere, buried in the snow, or the house she left empty, but all there was now was the wind and the snow and the shape of a woman, walking. Soon her body started to prepare a warm space inside itself so her mind could sleep. Wasn’t that nice? All she wanted now was somewhere to rest. She fell face first into the ground. Nothing could hurt her now. The snow was soft and warm and dark… “Come on! Rise and shine, Aybelline!” Aybelline smiled, weakly. “…I’ll be there in a minute, Mom…”
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