A Wintery Encounter

“Winter Foxgon are incredibly territorial. Unlike the other species of Foxgon, Winters are much more solitary in nature. Usually only grouping together when raising their young or gathering during celebrations such during winter and summer solstice.
“Winters are ambush hunters. Using their colors to blend into their environment, they allow their prey to come close enough to pounce. 

“They are also known for burying themselves in snow to sleep off their most recent meals, so beware of snow drifts that seem to have the faint hint of steam rising from them. They do not like to be disturbed..” their voice trailed off as they felt their right foot sink into a large snow bank. 

Slowly lowering the book in their hands, they slowly glanced upwards–only to see exactly what the book had warned about in front of them: steam rising from a massive pile of snow.

“Shiit.” they mumbled, slowly stepping backwards, doing their best not to make a sound. Just a few more steps and they would be safe. Unfortunately, the faint sound of snow and ice crunching beneath their feet seemed to say otherwise. 

“Damn it!” The wildlife researcher barely had time to stumble backwards as the snow erupted; sending snow and ice scattering through the air. Snow that was followed by a deep, bellowing rumble. A rumble they could feel in their chest.
Tugging their fleece lined hood against their face in an attempt to block the flying snow, the researcher barely noticed the large pair of wings that spread behind the scattering snow. A long serpent-like body then rose into the air, stretching into the distance behind the wings, as the massive creature came into view.

Stumbling backwards in surprise, the researcher struggled to regain their balance, teetering back and forth before falling backwards into the snow; nearly avoiding the powerful snap of jaws filled with razor sharp teeth.
Crashing back down, the long flexible, serpent-like body curled around the researcher, forming a wide circle around him, as a large pair of paws landed on the ground in front of him; their large, sharp claws sinking into the snow. 

“Who are you to disturb my rest?” the large creature rumbled, its canine-like muzzle drawing back into a snarl. Semi-long, teal colored whiskers swayed in the wind, curling from its nose to just above the creature’s shoulder blades. “—To enter my territory without permission?” 

Towering over the researcher, the creature held its front body up by its powerful front legs. Folding back against its head, were a pair of large, fox-like ears with thick, fluffy, dark teal tufts of fur sprouting from the tips. Similar to its ears, a dark teal tuft could be seen sprouting from the tip of its tail. Small snowflakes were caught in the thick, fluffy fur. 

Despite its serpentine half, the creature wasn’t covered in scales at all. Instead it was covered in a thick layer of smooth, layered fur; fur that kept its body insulted from the bitter winds and biting cold. 

Tucking its wings in slightly, its large, dark to light grey ombre wings stood out against its white fur that was broken up by jagged, icy tealish-blue swoops traveling from the top of its head, between its ears, and to the tip of its tail. It was this blend of colors that allowed it to disappear into its wintery environment. 

“I’m sorry!” The researcher exclaimed, raising their hands as they shrunk back slightly, attempting to appear as nonthreatening as possible. “I didn’t know this was your territory. If I did, I would have sent notice in advance.” Flinching as the foxgon let out another snarl, the researcher hesitantly lowered their hand slightly. 

“Why are you here?” The foxgon's tail twitched in annoyance against the snow. 

“I came here to study the migration of the Polar Ox, they’re further away from their normal route than usual.” The researcher paused for a moment, before glancing back over towards the foxgon. “However, with this being your territory, I suppose I found the answer.” 

Flickering faintly, the foxgon’s ears swiveled to the side as a low, deep bellow suddenly filled the air, drawing its attention towards the sound–just as a large, lumbering beast wandered into view. 

Resembling a polar bear from a distance, it became very clear, as it got closer, that it was anything but. Thick and stocky with large powerful shoulders that swayed with each step it took, the beast was massive. Held up by six, muscular legs, the beast paused to glance in the researcher’s direction-revealing its bear like face. However this bear has a much shorter rounder snout. Sprouting from the top of its head, before slowly curling down just underneath its large round ears were a set of heavy, curved horns. 

What stood out the most about this odd, six-legged bear-like creature was the dark blue, smooth, scaly tail that slowly swayed behind it. A tail that had a seemingly thin membrane running along the top and bottom, giving it a more paddle-like shape. The large, lumbering bear-like creature paused to glance in their direction, studying them curiously as if trying to decide if the large predator was a threat or not, before resuming its slow pace across the ice and snow. 

“Annoyingly stubborn creatures.” The Foxgon snorted, watching as the Polar Ox walked out of view. “They decided they were going to trample my sunbathing spot, sometimes they’re not worth the effort hunting, no matter how delicious they are.” 

“As for you.” The Foxgon rumbled out, flicking its tail in annoyance and slapping it loudly against the frozen ground, sending clumps of snow flying through the air. The researcher shivered, as the foxgon’s icy blue eye met his gaze once more. “How should I deal with you?” 

“You could let me go?” The question hopeful. “I can inform anyone else who comes out here that this is your territory and not to enter it without your permission.” 

“I could… or I could simply kill you.” The foxgon snarled, making it quite clear it hadn’t forgiven the rude awaking from earlier.. “You two leggers aren’t worth eating, not enough meat on those bones of yours.” 

Swallowing nervously, the researcher lifted their hands again, holding their fingers spread wide with their palms showing. Or they would have been, had they not been covered in gloves.

“If…if I don’t return, my team will come looking for me.” The researcher responded, hoping the Foxgon would call their bluff. 

“Team? The only scent on your body is your own tresspasser.” The foxgon slammed its paw into snow. “Do not attempt to deceive me! The last two legger to do so met their end from a great height.” 

Swallowing nervously, the researcher struggled to find a way out of this situation. Their thoughts run through their mind as quickly as possible, in an attempt to find a way to calm the temper of the large predatory beast.
Why didn’t the notes tell me they held grudges?? they thought to themselves before pausing and starting to look around. Their notes! Where did they go? The faint sound of pages being flipped drew their attention. Laying haphazardly in the snow, pages being flipped rapidly by the winds, was their notebook. Glancing nervously from the book to the foxgon, the researcher seemed to weigh their options before launching themselves at the notebook; only to have the wind knocked out of them as a large paw pressed them into the snow. Fortunately for the researcher, the snow cushioned some of the impact.
“Where do you think you’re going? Think you can disturb me, then run?” The Foxgon snarled.
“N-No, I would never.” They swallowed, struggling to lift the book with shaking hands. Swiftly flipping through the pages, the researcher spread the book wide before closing their eyes and held the book open in the Foxgon’s direction.

For a brief moment, the researcher was only met with silence. Silence that only made them doubt their choices; question if they had sped up their demise instead of pausing it. Silence that was broken by a simple question. 

“Is that me?” The Foxgon asked, lifting a claw to carefully press against the book’s pages-careful not to tear them. Underneath its claws, lightly etched onto the pages were several sketches of a winter foxgon. 

Opening their eyes, the researcher released the breath they were holding, feeling their body shudder as the adrenaline seeped from their body. 

“No, the markings are different.” The foxgon tilted its head, curiously taking in the sketches, before turning their attention back towards the researcher. “Do you have more?” 

“More?” 

“Yes, more.” 

“Um..not of a Winter, no. But I do have some of an Autumn, Spring and Summer.” 

“Show me.” Lifting their paw off the researcher’s back, the Foxgon pulled back ever so slightly, allowing the researcher to begin to flip through the pages once more, until they landed on the one they were searching for.
Leaning closer, the foxgon’s ice blue eyes scanned over the sketches, only to shift back towards the researcher once they were ready for them to turn the page.
“Do you only draw us?”
“No, I sketch all kinds of creatures. It's why I usually travel alone.” The researcher explained. “Less people means less of a chance of surprising the animals.”
Flipping to the next page, the sketches revealed a colorful arrangement of Spring Foxgons in various, mischievous poses: stealing food; biting down on powerlines. There were even a few of a set of Springs purposely annoying a Summer. 

“Do you see many? Springs I mean?” 

“No, It’s too cold for them up there.” The Foxgon gently slides its claw across the pages, passing the images of the mischievous Springs buzzing around the Summer’s head. “The only ones I’ve met have been during the fledgling period.” 

“Ah, I would love to be able to see that once.” 

“Very unlikely.” The Foxgon huffed glancing towards the researcher. “Queens are extremely protective of their young during this time, nor has any two legger been trustworthy enough to allow them in.”

“That..makes sense-” The Researcher was cut off as the Foxgon suddenly swung its head up. Its large pointed ears swiveled forward, as the sound of bellowing filled the air; bellowing followed by the thundering of paws.

From the distance, as the bellowing got louder, a herd of Polar Oxen plowed into view. Their large paws dug into the snow, sending snowdrifts flying into the air. Tucking the researcher beneath their body, the Foxgon arched its back as it spread its wings wide, ruffling its feathers to make them seem bigger and more threatening as a deep, bellow rolled from the back of its throat. 

Slowly spilling from its mouth, whitish-grey plumes of smoke could be seen wisping around its fangs as flickers of what could only described as icy blue flames flickered from its mouth and nostrils–warning any Polar Ox what their fate would be if they got too close.
Strangely however, despite the threats and posturing, the Polar Oxen did not slow their charge. Their massive, bulky bodies dashing around the Foxgon at all sides; barely paying attention to the massive predator. Making one thing quite obvious, they weren’t running towards them; they were running away from something. 

Smothering the flames with a gentle snap of its jaws and a shake of its head, the Foxgon stared in the direction the herd had came from, their ears standing up straight-picking up even the faintest sounds nearby. 

“Wh..what were they running from?” The researcher swallowed, hidden by their hoodie-their own, smaller rounded ears folded against their head. 

“Ice storm..” The Foxgon whispered, tilting its muzzle down towards the researcher, pausing for a moment as if considering something. “Hold your breath.”

“What-” The researcher barely got a word out before the foxgon’s jaws suddenly opened wide. The last thing they saw was the foxgon’s jaws coming towards them, and a blanket of white. 

“What…happened?” The researcher groaned as they came to, rubbing the top of their head, only to find their hood had been pulled down  revealing droopy, oval shaped ears. “Where am I?” 

Squinting into the dim light, the researcher struggled to see what was around them; barely making out what seemed to resemble the edges of a cave. Walls that were jagged and uneven, as if they had been carved open by powerful claws; revealing a mix of browns, grey and tans buried beneath. Mixing in with the earthy colors, occasional thick clumps of white impacted into the wall; creating a sturdy barrier against the bitter weather outside. 

“I see you have awoken.” A faint flicker of light danced across the room as small sparks of icy blue flames scattered before catching aflame what appeared to be a braided knot.

Thick strands of fur could be seen woven together into a long braid which wrapped around a nearby carved staglamite, allowing more of the cave to come into view as the blue flame traveled down it. Several other woven cords could be seen about the cave, adding their own light to the environment. 

Further back, a large nest-like shape could be seen filled with feathers and fur; shaped and woven into a rounded yet comfortable looking place to rest. 

“What happened?” The researcher asked again, glancing back towards the Foxgon. 

“An ice storm.” The Foxgon replied. “They are extremely dangerous, even our wisest elder would never be caught in one.” 

“How long does it typically last?” The researcher’s ears twitch slightly at the faint sound of howling outside the cave’s walls. 

“From a few hours to days or weeks.” 

“Weeks? I can’t stay here that long!”

“It seems you do not have a choice, two legger.” The Foxgon huffed. “Unless you wish to become a living icicle.” 

Giving its tail a quick flick, the Foxgon slowly glided over to its nest, before plopping down. Its long body sank into the woven fibers as its wings draped across its warm body like a feathery blanket. 

It was a sight that caused the researcher to realize something, it was warm. Incredibly so. Contrary to its appearance; the cave was a bed of warmth; nearly making the fleece hoodie they were wearing uncomfortable. Tugging at their collar, the Researcher sighed as they returned to exploring the cave; what other choice did they have. Tucked into the nooks and crannies that resembled shelves craved by claws, were various assortments of items. Some “hand-made” others simply found. Books, trinkets, even several skulls of various species could be found. Intricate knots with feathers and stones woven into them, skulls adorned with dyes and shimmering crystals could be seen set up on display, each placed with care. 

On the other hand however, some items had a more…omnious nature. Tattered backpacks, shredded winter wear, books with faded or worn covers, even broken and shattered weapons could be found. Unlike the first collection however, these weren’t displayed. Instead they were haphazardly tossed to the side in dimmer areas of the cave, their presence the only proof of their owners existence–as well as demise. This was more than just a collection, this was the Foxgon’s horde. 

Staring in awe at the horde, the Researcher reached for their notebook–only to realize it wasn’t there. Quickly looking around the room, they soon found it lying nearby one of the piles of items yet to be sorted. At least it hadn’t been added to the collection yet–removing an item from a Foxgon’s horde was a death wish. Cautiously watching the resting Foxgon, the researcher slowly inched over to the notebook before picking it up, and flipping to a blank page.
Opening one of its eyes, the Foxgon watched as the researcher plopped onto a nearby rock before their pencil began to move across the page.

It was unclear how much time passed before they were nudged by a large paw-waking them from their focused scribbling. 

“Get up, the storm has passed.” The Foxgon huffed. “And you have overstayed your welcome.” 

“Thank you for allowing me to stay here.” The researcher replied, tugging the hoodie back over their head. “Perhaps we will meet again?”

‘“Highly unlikely. But stranger things have occurred.”

Glancing down at their notebook, the Researcher carefully flipped towards a certain page before gently tearing the sketches of the Winter Foxgons out and passing them towards the Foxgon. 

“An apology and thank you for everything.” 

Staring at the sketches for a moment, the Foxgon sighed. “You are the strangest two legger I have ever encountered.” Picking a nearby crystal in its mouth, the Foxgon suddenly bit down on it with a loud crunch, before flicks of flame slipped around the newly crushed crystal, melting it in a more malleable constituency. Under the researcher’s curious gaze, the Foxgon slowly shaped the crystal into a semi-transparent, light blue rounded bangle. Similar bangles adorned the Foxgon's tail.
“It isn’t the same as the ones we give to the fledgings but perhaps it will aid you in your next journey.” The Foxgon huffed, gently sliding the bangle over the Researcher’s wrist. 

“Thank you.” The researcher smiled, letting out a laugh as they stumbled forward with a shove from the Foxgon’s thick tail, nudging him in the direction of the exit. 

“Out.” The Foxgon gently placed the sketches on a nearby shelf, allowing them to rest against several worn and well-read books. 

Glancing down at the bangle one last time, the Researcher tucked their notebook into their hoodie, before heading out into the cold. 

Perhaps they would meet again, and when they did, they would have many more sketches to share.