Unlike the open-air courtyards of the Tiger Kingdom or the towering, exposed peaks of the Dragons, the Fox territory was very beautiful. Blossom flowers framed caves, they even had wooden cabins.
Ren stood near the center of the grand den, having shifted back into his human form. His vibrant red hair fell into his eyes, and his usually perfectly styled clothes were rumpled from his blindingly fast sprint from the Iron-Wood.
But he didn't care about his appearance. He watched with a heavy, calculating gaze as the elders and warriors of his tribe rapidly consumed the leaf-wrapped parcels he had dropped before them.
The Wither-Rot had barely touched the deep dens, but the paranoia had been starving them. Now, as the thick, hearty chicken broth and rice filled their bellies, carrying the invisible, heavily masked cure into their bloodstreams, the collective sigh of relief that echoed through the caverns was palpable.
