Chapter Text
The next evening, Daryl got in one of the trucks and headed for the woods, Bullet on the seat beside him.
"Just think, buddy," Daryl said, trying to reassure himself as much as the fox. "You'll get yourself a girlfriend, and you'll have lots'a kids. And you can eat whatever you want whenever you want. And you can run for miles without no fences t' hold ya' back."
The fox made a little chattery noise in it's throat, looking at Daryl inquisitively. The hunter quickly turned his attention back to the road, realizing looking at the little creature was only making it harder to control his emotions.
"Don't look at me like that," he muttered, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. "This is hard enough as it is."
The fox turned back to the window, ignoring the hunter.
"You'll probably be a daddy by next spring," Daryl continued to talk to himself, trying desperately to ease the guilt churning in his stomach. "You'll have lots'a babies runnin' 'round."
Twenty minutes later, Daryl was walking through the woods with Bullet racing ahead of him, playing with sticks, darting in and out of hollow logs and just enjoying the new found freedom.
Sitting down on a rock, Daryl waited quietly, watching the fox romp. It's better this way, he thought silently. It's better for a wild thing to be free...Not cooped up like a regular lap dog...
When bullet disappeared into the bushes, Daryl stood, hoping the little fox had forgotten all about him and nature would kick in.
But when he was about halfway back to the truck, a familiar yip had him turning around.
Bullet came bounding after him, dancing around his feet and looking like he was about to burst.
"Go on," Daryl pointed. "You have t' stay here...Don't make this any harder than it already is."
The fox ran off a few feet, as if understanding Daryl completely, standing on a fallen log to watch the hunter.
"Go on! Get!!" Daryl cried, flailing his arms wildly, trying to frighten the fox away. "Go find somebody else t' bother!!"
And with that, Bullet was off and running, disappearing into the woods.
Daryl sniffed, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand and trying desperately not to cry. He was a grown man for Pete's sake! A Dixon didn't cry over something as stupid as a fox.
As Daryl opened the truck door, deciding since no one was watching, he was safe, he allowed a few tears to slip, glancing back forlornly at the deep, endless Georgian woods his little fox was now lost to.
"See ya' 'round, little guy..." Daryl murmured, driving off, back to the prison where he belonged.
Meanwhile, on a nearby ridge, sat a half-grown red fox, watching the hunter drive away. His ears pricked up at the sound of something strange, a screaming yip of sorts somewhere in the distance.
Nature quickly took it's course, and Bullet was off and running in the direction of the vixen's cries.
~*#*~
The next spring, Daryl went hunting as usual, staying out until early evening one day.
When a red fox came into the clearing he had chosen to hunt from, he felt his heart skip a beat.
The fox peered around, looking cautious, but after a few moments, disappeared into a little burrow near a fallen log.
Daryl waited breathlessly, hoping the wind wouldn't shift and give his hiding place away.
After a few moments, another fox emerged from the hole, a vixen, followed by five little kits.
"Bullet..." Daryl grinned, knowing his pet anywhere as he watched the stunning creature take up watch from on top of the fallen log. "You rascal, you..."
The hunter watched the kits and parents play for a little while, but realized with a start it was getting dark fast, and he needed to get back.
Still grinning to himself, Daryl made his way back to the truck, happy to know that his little friend was doing just fine on his own.