Wessex
some turn to dust or to gold, but you will remember me
The offending wing eventually tears off - but there’s still a head and the tail. The girl’s second request to help makes her pause again, pulling her crimson stained muzzle away from the bird to look at her curiously. So intent on helping. On playing. Poor thing - maybe she’s lonely.With a couple of low grunts and a whine, she takes partially dismembered Ningo in her mouth and offers it to Soleil, tail low and brushing back and forth. As soon as its taken, her sounds turn into a high-pitched fox laughter. Which, if you’ve never heard a fox laugh, is a very happy, infectious sound. She tugs on her end of the bird, inviting some very messy play.
