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The Boy and The Fox

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"You are almost 19 son, you have to start taking responsibility!" His father yelled in the back storage of the family pub, though he tried to keep his voice down as to not disturb customers. He however was barely listening, looking at his father, but not paying attention to the words spilling out of his mouth, at least until his father put his hand onto the top of his head roughly, forcing the boy look up at him again, angry eyes meeting bored ones. He never even noticed his head started drifting down and his eyes started closing until he saw the angry yet worried look on his dad's face, "Griffith, please understand why I yell, why I get upset. Its-"

"I know, I know...its for my own good" Griffith mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor, which seemed at this moment to be really intriguing as he was attempting to avoid the awkward situation he found himself in, though this wasn't the first time and he had a feeling it won't be the last that this encounter was going to happen.

"Then why are you rebelling like this? You used to be bright eye'd and ready to help me around the workplace...is it because of your mother?" Griffith froze, dropping his head down again when his father finally moved his hand. His mother had passed a year ago from a horrible disease that not even doctors could name. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss her, though he never let his father see how upset he was about it, or at least he tried not to. His father was persistent, and knew him for almost 19 years now, he could tell when something was bothering his own son. "I don't blame you for being upset, I miss her too but-"

"I dont miss her." Griffith interrupted once again. "Im going to my room" Griffith said as he turned and made his out of the back room, past the counter and down the stairs to their basement, which used to be the storage room until it was moved. Griffith threw the door shut a bit too hard, making himself jump. He brushed it off however and walked over to his small bed, slumping down onto the cheap mattress, flinching at the creak his bed made as the wood wasn't expecting the sudden weight. Even though his attitude towards his father was less then kind, he loved him, he was the only family he had left, however he was stressed with something his dad told him only a few weeks prior to today. He never even thought of inheriting the family business until his dad brought it up, and Griffith was less then excited about it. He didn't want the pub, he didn't want to own the family business. Granted he didn't know what he wanted to do, and with jobs hard to get he knew this might be the only real chance he has, but even with that in mind, he didn't want the grubby old place.

With a heavy sigh, Griffith made his way into the bathroom and cringed at how miserable he looked. His dark brown hair a mess, and getting longer as it was almost touching his shoulders now, though even still, he didn't want it cut. His blue eyes the same as always, bordering on being a light gray colour in the right light, however the dark rings under his eyes weren't as appealing. He even noticed his cheek bones starting to show. As popular as the pub was, it was small, and the prices set were low to entice more customers, and with food prices rising eating decent meals was becoming more of a luxury then it used to be.

With a groan he attempted to make his hair look somewhat decent, messing around with it until he got his desired style. Most of his hair pulled to the right, making the left portion look shorter, even though that wasn't the case. Then the next thing he made his way to was the closet, that was quite empty. He didn't want anything spectacular, so he took out a white, long-sleeved shirt, chucking away the carvat as he never liked the thing. He then picked out a black waistcoat with a faint criss-cross pattern sewn into it. His pants weren't anything special, almost black trousers that reached to just past his knees and dark gray stockings that covered up any skin the trousers wouldn't. Finally his shoes were dark brown, low heel, and made with leather, though they were slightly worn as this was Griffith's only pair of shoes he owned.

With that done, he made the decision to go out for another walk, which he has been doing almost daily. His father however never liked that he went out on his own, with all the crime that's been going on the past few months, along with a fox that's been wandering around. He had heard it was beautiful, a sight to see if you could get the chance, and even though according to customers the fox mean't no harm, his dad was skeptical of the creature, though Griffith didn't understand why.

However, with that inner monologue through, he snuck back upstairs, peeking over the wooden floor of the upstairs portion to survey the area. His dad was serving a few customers, and when he made his way into the back room, Griffith made a dash for the door. He sighed when he was outside and away from the buildings windows, and with a confident smile he made his way to the nearby river. 

It really wasn't anything special. The river was about five meters wide, seventy meters in length and ten meters deep that led out to the ocean. Two spaced out stone bridges allowed passage across the small portion of water, and stone barriers ran along the edges, prohibiting access into the water itself without jumping over it.

As Griffith made his way to the barrier he felt himself calm already, crossing his arms in-front of him and leaning onto the wall, head rested on his arms as he just watched the water flow. He loved just watching the water, it was surprisingly relaxing to the boy. Though today he felt different, and he didn't know what it was. He figured it wasn't the water, but something in the surrounding area, he felt like he was being watched.

As he looked up and away from the liquid that he was once fixated on, his eyes widened as he looked at the fox that stood at the other side of the river. It had dark fur, most of the underside almost black, while its back and most of its head were a lighter gray. The darker side seemed to cover its stomach, and neck with a pattern going around the foxes neck like a black collar. Legs from top to bottom was also this same colour of black, and a stripe from the top of the foxes head to its snout was also this black colour, its ears being only a slightly lighter black then the rest, and the tip of its tail being pure white. Though what caught Griffith's attention the most was its stunning blue eyes that started out dark near the slitted pupil and got brighter further out.

It stood confident but looked curious as well as it looked at the teen. Its whole body, even its ears stood tall while its large and fluffy tail was slightly lifted off the ground, Griffith was mesmerized by the creature and even though he knew he wasn't anywhere near it, he reached out to try and touch it. At this movement however, the foxes head lifted up higher and it turned around and jumped down, running off towards the nearby border of the bustling city.

Griffith gasped slightly as the fox started to run off and without thinking, he ran to the nearest bridge, trying to keep his focus on the fox as he started to chase after the stunning creature that bounded through the city, easily passing by people while Griffith was having trouble passing by them without knocking them over. He really did hate London and its crowded streets.

As the fox finally got to the border it looked back, Griffith only a few feet away from it, so it quickly turned around and went through a crack in the nearby wall and into the large, dense forest that most people always tried to avoid. Griffith stood at the crack, looking into the forest. Even though it was bright out, the sun baring down on the world, the forest was very dark, the trees so thick only small portions of the suns rays were penetrating through the leaves. However, even with how dark it was, the rumors he'd heard about the forest, Griffith wanted to see the fox again, up closer, he even wanted to touch it, so with a deep breath, he made his way through the wall and into the dark forest.

As Griffith was walking through the forest, he kept hearing rustling, and cracks of what he guessed was branches. The trees surrounding him made him feel claustrophobic as he tried to navigate his way through them. He didn't know how long he had been walking for, or even where he was. He couldn't see any part of the city anymore, only trees and leaves. At least until the same blue eyes caught his vision.

When Griffith made eye contact with the creature once again, it took off, Griffith making haste to catch up it, pushing aside foliage that got in his way. However, even though he lost sight of the creature after it jumped into a bush, he continued to run in the general direction he saw it going without thinking of where he was stepping, till eventually he wasn't stepping on anything. Before he could register the situation, he was tumbling down a steep cliff. He made an attempt to curl up into a ball, but in his panic he was barely in control of his body as it rolled down what he could only guess was a mountain. He felt a sudden pain in his left arm and right leg as he was hoping he was nearing the bottom, biting his lip from the pain that his body was now suffering in, however when he did reach the bottom, his head hit something very hard.

Groaning slightly, he tried to move, but his body throbbed with even the slightest movement. He felt sick, his head was pounding and he could feel the leaves and dirt that he was laying on. He didn't know how long he'd been down here, but when he tried to open his eyes, his world was spinning making him very dizzy. The last thing he saw was something black, with a vibrant blue glow that he could only guess was eyes, walking towards him before he passed out again.