Memoirs of a fox

A soft breeze blew through the forest. Land untouched by man that has laid here since the beginning of time. An orange figure runs through the forest, silent as if it wasn’t there. Over the decayed leaves, it ran as far as it’s paws could take the little fox. Coming to a rocky clearing the fox lingering on the edge of the tree line, smells the air for any sign of danger. It was safe. Putting one black paw in front of the other the fox treads out of the safety of the trees and onto the rocky cliff. Looking over the edge the little fox sees the crashing of the waves against the jagged rocks below. Looking up from the rocks below there lays water as far as the eye could see. The little fox sits down letting the sun hit it’s fireier orange fur, and enjoying the summer breeze blowing over the island where she lived. The little fox's name was Snow. She had lived on this island as long as she can remember and dreamed of nothing more beautiful than her island. As the years went by the little fox grew until she lived no longer. Only her spirit stayed to watch over the island. As her spirit grew stronger she became a beautiful yokai who watched over the island. She had skin as white as snow and bright orange hair that brushed against the ground as she walked. Her golden dress shone bright even on the darkest of days and her eyes where the color of the greenest trees in early summer. Snow kept the island in balance as she watched the seasons go bye. From her little burrow she lived happily. Until late winter was when the first man came to the snowy island.