My backpack zips shut after the last supply disappears inside. I hesitate, fingers brushing the frayed fabric of my bag. A brief, stupid pang of guilt hits me again as I recall Luca’s worried voice earlier. Would he really think I'd hurt it? The idea feels uncomfortable, an itch under my skin I can't quite scratch away. Maybe I am overreacting, obsessing over an animal too small to deserve this much effort.

  Luca peers over my shoulder, smirking. "Chips? Really?"

  "Maybe it’s hungry," I mutter, defensively shoving the bag deeper.

  "Or maybe you’re hungry," Luca laughs. He lifts the bag of chips out again, waving it teasingly. "Garden salsa flavor, though? Bold choice."

  I snatch it back, feeling my face heat slightly. "I don’t exactly have fox bait lying around. Besides, what do foxes even like?"

  Luca shrugs, dramatic as always. "Apparently your rake handles." He pauses thoughtfully. "Or your dignity."

  I glare at him, fighting back the reluctant grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Thanks, Luca. Incredibly helpful."

  He chuckles, picking up a broken piece of my favorite rake handle from the workbench. “Here, take this. Just in case the fox wants something familiar to chew on instead of your sanity.”

  I take it from him, turning it in my hands. The wood is splintered and rough, evidence of teeth marks glaring at me mockingly. A petty part of me hopes the fox chips a tooth next time. "Very funny," I mutter, though I slip it into my backpack anyway.

  “Are you sure you're prepared for battle?” Luca continues, examining my assortment of random items. “Chips, rake splinters, and…” he reaches deeper, pulling out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “...hand sanitizer?”

  I shrug helplessly. "Maybe cleanliness will scare it off."

  "Or maybe it'll appreciate your thoughtfulness," Luca says, placing it back into the bag with exaggerated care. "I hear foxes are very hygiene-conscious."

  “Remind me again why I’m friends with you?” I ask dryly.

  "Because without me, you'd be sitting here alone ranting at your imaginary fox enemy," Luca says brightly. He gives a mock salute, stepping outside. “I'll go check the perimeter. Wouldn't want the enemy sneaking up early.”

  “Good idea,” I say, though my voice carries more nerves than sarcasm now.

  I glance back at the shed, silent, empty, and oddly sinister in the fading daylight. It almost feels like it’s mocking me too, waiting smugly for another night of chaos. Tonight needs to be different. Tonight, I need answers.

  With one last nervous look around, I hitch the backpack onto my shoulder and follow Luca outside, hoping that this isn’t as ridiculous as it feels.

  Outside, Luca leans against the shed, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. The dying sunlight glints off the rusted hinges and peeling red paint, casting an eerie golden glow over the battered wooden structure. I make a big show of closing the door, rattling the lock exaggeratedly for Luca’s benefit.

  He rolls his eyes. "Very funny. Let's see your furry nemesis try to get through that tonight."

  I hitch the backpack onto my shoulders, the weight tugging comfortingly against me. "Let's just catch the damn thing first.” I take one last look behind me at the shed door, hoping we won't have to repeat this tomorrow.

  Our footsteps quiet on the trail behind the shed. The path narrows as birch trees close around us with their branches intertwined like they are whispering secrets. It’s a pretty trail. I can’t help but inhale the earthy smell of damp leaves and twilight mist. My anger settles slightly, replaced by a strange calm. Even the forest seems to hold its breath at dusk, everything softer, gentler somehow.

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  Broken twigs creak softly beneath Luca’s feet. I make a careful effort to avoid stepping on them myself. Without extra noise, we’ll have better chances of seeing the wildlife if they can’t hear us coming.

  We follow the path until it winds alongside a slow-moving river, where the fading daylight dances in rippling golden flecks across the water. Birds call sleepily overhead, their songs muted by the coming night. Despite all my annoyance, I have to admit that this place is beautiful, especially right now. The golden shadows stretch lazily across the trail ahead. I wonder why the fox doesn’t want to stay here. This tiny piece of the forest could be its own kingdom.

  The sun is setting, and I’m seriously preparing to hunt down a wild animal that’s smaller than my backpack. Maybe Luca’s right—maybe I really am losing it.

  Luca nudges me gently. "Still determined to catch your ghost?"

  I glare lightly. "Fox, not ghost. And yes. It owes me a rake.”

  "What happens when you catch it, though? I mean, realistically?"

  I hesitate, chewing my lip. Truthfully, I hadn't thought that far ahead. "I don't know. Maybe scare it off? Convince it to find someone else's shed to torment? You brought your slingshot, right?" I ask nervously, glancing at Luca’s pocket.

  "Always prepared," Luca replies, pulling it out with practiced flair. "So, no murder then?" He jokingly pantomimes aiming at my chest, his accuracy unnerving as always.

  "Ha ha. Funny," I reply dryly, but unease settles into my chest. I’m still replaying Luca’s hesitant voice in my head. Did he actually think I’d hurt it? Frustration is one thing, but violence? It's still just an animal. Maybe I’ve taken this a step too far. I’d never hurt the fox. Couldn't, really. I will not be a murderer.

  "Maybe just scare it," I mutter to myself. Yes, scaring it is probably the best option. Make it fear my shed, keep it away for good. Although, realistically, I barely have the patience or aim for that.

  Something moves swiftly through the trees ahead, just at the edge of my vision. Too quick and too quiet. I spin, my heart hammering in my chest. Nothing’s there. Just shadows stretching across the path. Still, unease prickles at the back of my neck like a whispered warning from the shadows themselves. “Fox!” My voice trembles, but only mocking echoes return. I stumble deeper into the darkness, branches clawing my face, roots snagging my feet as if the forest itself conspires against me. Far off, eyes seem to gleam, curious or accusing, I can't tell. Panic rises, breathing sharp.

  Shrouded in the moonlight, my heart beats faster, a pulse of fear and wonder filling my veins. Luca comes up behind me, staring wide-eyed at the stone. "What is that?" I whisper. Luca motions for me to stay silent. He shows me the paw prints. So small and fragile. Only a growing certainty that the fox is near.

  “Shh!" Luca whispers, grabbing my arm. I halt abruptly, following his gaze to paw prints pressed softly into the mud—small, fragile, fresh.

  Did Luca see what I saw? I hesitate to ask, not ready for skepticism. But he's already motioning for silence, pointing toward the river’s edge.

  And there it is. The fox—my fox. Its fur impossibly white, glowing softly in golden twilight, fluffier and more delicate than seems possible. Its tail sweeps elegantly, brushing gently against the water’s edge. My thoughts spiral. Is this right? Are we doing the right thing?

  The fox steps forward, its delicate paws barely disturbing the fallen leaves. It’s fur a shimmering silver, ethereal as mist. Its head tilts, eyes locking onto mine, deep and dark, full of intelligence and caution. My breath catches sharply, my heart thundering in my ears. It’s bright brown eyes hold mine, intelligence shimmering in their depths. My stomach twists uneasily. Maybe I've projected my own frustrations onto it, blamed it unfairly for my failures. Is this even right, what we’re doing? A nagging voice in my mind screams caution, but Luca's already pulling back the slingshot, heedless of the strangeness saturating the air. "Wait, Luca—!"

  Before I can stop him, Luca pulls the slingshot taut, eyes narrowed in concentration.

  Too late. The small jagged stone zips through the air and hits the fox squarely on its hind leg. The fox yelps and a sharp, painful sound pierces through me. My heart sinks as I watch it stumble away, limping painfully into the shadows.

  "Why'd you do that?" I snap, panic clawing at my throat.

  Luca looks stunned, dropping the slingshot to his side. "I—I didn't mean to hit it that hard. I thought it would move faster."

  Without thinking, I dart forward, chasing after the wounded creature. My breath comes in harsh pants, guilt flooding my veins. Behind me, Luca shouts something, but I don't hear him clearly. All I know is the lingering image of the fox's frightened eyes, and that heartbreaking cry.

  By the time I reach the spot, the fox is already gone, vanished into the gathering darkness. The only proof of its presence is a tiny patch of blood on the grass. My stomach twists painfully, a sharp reminder that my anger has real consequences.

  Luca catches up, breathing heavily. "Caleb, I'm sorry. I swear I didn’t mean—"

  "We have to find it. We have to help it.” I interrupt quietly, swallowing down the regret.

  He shakes his head. “It’s gone. It’s definitely not coming back now. But that’s what you wanted, right? No more destroyed shed!”

  The air heavy around us, searching for a creature I've wanted gone but now desperately hope to find. I want to make sure its okay.