The fox's ears twitched sharply as a faint rustle split the quiet of the forest.
Before it could fully register the sound, a streak of shadow lunged from the underbrush—fast, precise, aimed straight at the fox's side.
Its body reacted on instinct. Tails snapping, paws pivoting. The illusioned form of the young man flickered violently, shimmering—then **collapsed entirely** as the attack struck the space it had just occupied.
The fox barely rolled aside, claws digging into the soft earth. Leaves and dirt erupted where the strike landed, the force strong enough to tear bark from a nearby sapling.
Breathing shallow, it hissed under its breath.
"…That was too close."
The lizard's claws flexed instinctively atop its head, tail flicking once—ready.
The fox's eyes, sharp now without the illusion hiding them, scanned the shadows. Something moved between the trees—a blur too fast to fully see, too deliberate to be accidental.
Its gaze tracked the shadowed edges of the forest, ears swiveling independently to catch the faintest rustle. Its tails twitched once—then twice—a subtle but deliberate signal.
"…Looks like the fish are here," it murmured, voice low, calm, almost amused.
The lizard shifted slightly, claws flexing as it felt the change in the fox's aura—alert, calculating, ready.
"…Fishing time," the fox continued, teeth flashing in a brief, sharp grin.
Its body coiled like a spring, poised for movement, qi threading through it with lethal precision.
"…Remember," it added softly, voice meant only for the lizard, "…this isn't a stroll through Rivermarch anymore. They came looking. And now…"
A pause.
"…*We catch them first.*"
The forest seemed to still around them, leaves suspended in anticipation. Shadows deepened, waiting, as predator and partner prepared for the first strike.
The fox lowered its body slightly, voice dropping to a whisper that barely disturbed the night air.
"Here's the plan."
Its tails stilled—no longer swaying, no longer playful.
"All of this…" it murmured, "…is useless if we don't use what we *are*."
It tilted its head just enough for the lizard to feel the shift.
"You can't see," the fox said plainly. "So don't try."
The forest breathed around them—damp earth, sap, faint traces of old blood clinging to bark.
"You smell better than anything out here," the fox continued. "Better than them. Better than me."
A pause.
"You'll use that."
The fox's voice hardened.
"With your invisibility, you move first. Low. Quiet. No rushing.
…You find them by scent—fear, greed, blood pressure rising when they think they've cornered prey."
Its eyes narrowed, gleaming faintly.
"They won't notice you. They're watching *me*."
A thin, sharp smile.
"And while they're focused on the destruction—"
The fox's qi stirred, subtle but ominous.
"—you finish them."
Clean.
Close.
Final.
It glanced upward, meeting the empty gaze of the blind lizard.
"No hesitation," the fox added. "No mercy."
A soft exhale.
"I'll be loud," it said. "I'll be obvious. I'll break trees, ground, formations—make them think I'm the threat they prepared for."
Its claws dug lightly into the soil.
"And you," it finished quietly, "…will be the thing they never realize was there."
The forest seemed to lean in.
Somewhere ahead, a breath hitched.
A foot shifted.
A heart beat faster.
The fox smiled—slow and dangerous.
"…Go," it whispered.
And the hunt truly began.
The lizard slipped off the fox's head without a sound.
One moment its weight was there—
The next, gone.
Invisibility wrapped around it completely. It hit the forest floor lightly and vanished into the undergrowth, nose lifting as the world reassembled itself through **smell**—sap, wet soil, trees, grass.
Behind it—
The fox straightened.
Its posture changed.
Gone was the quiet, careful movement.
Its aura **expanded**.
The fox took one deliberate step forward, claws crunching leaves and twigs loudly beneath its paws.
Then it spoke.
Its voice carried.
Sharp.
Clear.
Angry enough to sound real.
"Who," the fox called coldly, "dared attack me **within Rivermarch's bounds**?"
Its tails flared, qi rippling outward, stirring leaves and bending thin branches as if a pressure wave had passed.
"Are you trying to break the rules?" it continued, voice rising just enough to carry through the trees. "Do you want the city's enforcers crawling up your spines?"
Silence answered.
Too perfect.
The fox laughed once—short, humorless.
"Come out," it said. "Or do you only have the courage to strike from behind?"
It took another step, deliberately exposing its flank.
Its illusion was gone now.
They could see what it truly was.
And that was the point.
Because as their attention locked onto the fox—
Invisible and low to the ground, the lizard moved.
It caught the scents clearly now.
Three.
No—four.
Spread wide.
Trying to encircle.
Heartbeats quick.
Qi restrained but coiled.
Predators who thought they were hunters.
The fox raised its voice again, louder now, threaded with threat.
"This is your last chance," it said. "Step out."
And somewhere in the dark—
Someone took the bait.
A foot shifted.
A breath caught.
And the forest, holding its breath with them, waited for the first body to fall.
The fox's paw slipped into its storage pouch.
Slow.
Deliberate.
The motion was clear enough for anyone watching to see.
With a soft *thrum*, a **black spear** emerged—long, slender, its surface matte and lightless, as if it drank the moon instead of reflecting it. Faint runes crawled along the shaft like sleeping insects, barely visible until qi brushed them.
The fox controlled the spear as it hovered.
*Thud.*
The sound carried.
"Oh?" the fox said coolly. "So you *are* serious."
Its grip tightened.
The forest responded—leaves trembling, a subtle pressure rolling outward as the spear's presence anchored the fox's killing intent into the ground.
"You followed me out of Rivermarch," it continued, voice sharp with accusation. "You attacked first."
A pause.
"That means," it said calmly, "you've already accepted the consequences."
The fox lifted the spear slightly, angling its body so it looked fully committed to a frontal confrontation—no concealment, no tricks.
Exactly what they expected.
Exactly what they wanted to see.
Invisible among roots and shadow, the lizard moved.
It tracked them by scent now—sweat turning sour, breath shallow, excitement laced with fear. One was to the left, crouched low behind a fallen log. Another farther back, heartbeat too fast for someone pretending calm. Two more spread wide, waiting for the spear to commit.
The fox continued its performance.
"I'll give you this," it said, almost conversational. "You waited until we crossed the boundary. At least you're not fools."
Its tails spread slightly, stance widening—
*baiting*.