coarse . quaint . contented

Foxes aren’t rare or unusual dæmons, and this one isn’t even striking or beautiful. Hardly anything to catch an eye, unless, that is, you’re not looking and judging by only a quick glance. Her beauty isn’t hidden, but it is it subtle, and difficult to catch. It is in the way her fur shines under the sun, and the way her laugh rings like raindrops on water. The way her eyes sparkle as she catches a glimpse of a rainbow in the mist, and the way she is chipper still, when her fur is soaked through and it’s still raining and she told Maakor to bring an umbrella, but they both know they love the rain too much to hide from it.

It is the way you meet Maakor and would never suspect he would have settled as a fox, but then when you know him, and know he could never be anything different. He used to think the same. It is the way they know who they are, and the way they are so utterly at peace with it.