To my dear friend Lindsey who won't be receiving this letter,


Lindsey, my friend, you will not be receiving this letter for two reasons. The first reason you will not be receiving this letter is because the most current address I have for you is over six years old and you may not live there anymore. The second and more dominating reason is because I am too scared. I am afraid to put this letter in an envelope and mail it to the address you may no longer live at.

I am afraid you won't receive it.
I am afraid that you will.

I am afraid that you will receive it and you will read it and you won't remember me. But if you do receive the letter and you do remember me then that's good. But now I'm afraid what you'd think of me.

I haven't spoken or written to you in five years. I haven't seen you even longer. So what would you think of me coming out of the blue all of the sudden with no warning? Would you be happy? Surprised? Confused? Annoyed? I don't know if I want to know.

But what I do want to know is if you remember. Do you remember all the times we spent together those two years we were school mates? Do you remember the same things I do? Do you remember more than me? Do you remember less? These are some of the things I remember, and maybe you can remember them too.

I remember we met in fourth grade at Fernandez Elementary. We had the same home room teacher, Mrs. Martinez. Do you remember Fernandez? Do you remember how people would braid the hair of the big Clifford doll in the library? That annoyed me to no end. Do you remember the playgrounds and the swings and how kids would just flip the seats over if there was bird poop on them? You were out of luck if both sides had poop and all the swings were taken. Do you remember Gym class and when we learned to juggle? Or how about the game Tin Pin, which was obsessively played every Friday when we had Free Choice? Do you remember music class where we had to play the recorder? Or how about art class, where we had a reincarnation of Satan as our art teacher? (I seriously doubt any student liked her. I know I sure didn't). What about our fourth grade play, Tide Pool Condos? I played the villain, Elizabeth, and (if I remember correctly), you were a bioluminescent. I could be wrong. It's been eight years since that play after all, but strangely I still know all the lyrics to my number. Do you remember any of your old classmates, like Nick (who had something wrong with his eyes), Jamal or Coren? I remember you had a friend whose name was (I believe), Jasmine. She was tall and had black hair. And though it sounds rude, I have to admit I was jealous of her because when I was young I did not like sharing my friends.

In fifth grade we were on the safety patrol. I worked in the morning, opening car doors for kids, raising the flag, opening the school doors, and monitoring the halls to make sure the other students were reading and keeping quiet. Do you remember how we would get "paid" for our jobs and earn checks? At the end of each nine weeks each student would bring a toy or game to school and we would have an auction for it with the "money" we earned. Then at the end of the year we had Free Enterprise, where all the fifth graders brought something to sell. I sold glow bracelets and made a profit of ten dollars. Our class was the last to participate in it, for the next year the principal discontinued Free Enterprise. It was in fifth grade we were separated. You and I had different home rooms, and the only time we were together was at recess. Do you remember how you and others would jokingly say that I had "radar" because I could find you no matter where you were on the playground? The days you were absent from school were especially hard on me, because I would spend my whole recess searching for you in vain.

Enough of school. We weren't only together in school. Do you remember our Girl Scout troop? We were troop 874, and we were both juniors in green. I have stopped being in Girl Scouts for some time now. What about you? Do you remember your old house? It was up on a hill and it was made of pink brick. Two white elephants sat on pink posts at the end of your driveway. Sometimes I go walking in the evening for exercise and I will pass your house. The elephants are gone now. I sigh. Do you remember the slumber parties you would have at your house? You were allowed to have lots of guests spend the night, which always surprised me because my mom would only allow me to invite one person if I wanted a sleep over. Your big parties made me envious.

I remember you had bearded dragons, three at the time I last saw them. I only remember one of their names; Tiny, because I have a dog who has the same name. In fact, you were with me when I found Tiny (my dog). It was a few days before you were moving away to Colorado. We were going to the park at the end of my street and on the corner was a dark brown Chihuahua. I thought he belonged to the people of the corner house, but apparently he wasn't. While we played on the playground the dog came over and we petted him. Do you remember how a young couple asked to play with him, and we let them because he wasn't our dog? When went back to them later, the dog had vanished and we were worried we'd never see him again, but we found him down a different street and took him back to my house and, well, the rest is history.

Do you remember when you got me a big stuffed tiger for me one year for my birthday? Lindsey, I loved that tiger and still do. In fact, it still sleeps with me in my bed amongst a few select group of toys. I've got to say, the soft plush belly has comforted me many times when I felt like I was about to cry.

Do you remember who it irked you when people would mispronounce your last name? You told me that you've everything from 'lactose' to 'lack-of-toes' when people try to say it. Does it still bother you or have you grown used to it? I honestly have to say I found it quite funny when people couldn't say it right because it's an uncommon last name.

Those are the most memorable things I can recall, even if some of it seems trivial. The insignificant things seem to stick to us that way, and I guess that's why they become the fonder memories. But it seems the more I think about it, the more I realize how much you impacted my life. Lindsey, if it weren't for you I would not be the person I am today. You were unarguably my first friend when I moved to Texas. You helped shape my morals and what it means to be a friend. In fact, I remember it was you who introduced me to neopets. Oh, neopets. I no longer play on that website since its major conversion, but I will check it out now and then for nostalgia's sake. It may seem silly, but neopets altered my life in a kaleidoscope of ways. It was neopets that prompted me to start drawing comics. It was neopets that made me learn html coding. It was through neopets that I found DeviantArt. In fact, because of one of my neopets, my username is now what it is. It was neopets that started a domino chain of events in my life, and it was all started because of you. And I cannot thank you enough for it.

And yet this is all in the past. I look back on these memories frequently because it is all I have left of you, but I can never go back to that time. The future is where you and I are headed and the more I think about it the more I realize that nothing is impossible. Maybe, by some freak chance, we will meet again someday on this earth. Doubtless we will both have changed. I now where glasses and keep my hair straight unlike the way I was at our last meeting. Yet despite our changes you can be assured my personality hasn't changed a bit (although I do share my friends now). Unlike the normal boring adult questions older people ask each other, such as "What's your future career plan?" or "What piece of news have you found interesting lately?" I promise you the first thing I would ask will be "What is your favorite color?" (Knowing your friend's favorite color is very important, you know), followed by "-favorite food?", "-favorite animal?", "-favorite season?", and "-favorite day of the week?" (Mine's Saturday). It all may seem trivial, and it is. But as I stated before it seems that the trivial memories are most vivid, and I always want to remember more when I have nothing else.

There only a few more things I have to say to you, Lindsey, one of which is to apologize. I want to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry I stopped keeping in touch because the fear had prevented me. I'm sorry for anything that I did that may have hurt you or angered you in any way even if it was unintentional. I'm sorry for all the things I didn't do like being there if you needed a friend and I was nowhere to be found, but most of all I'm sorry you won't be receiving this letter.

But be rest assured that I look forward to the moment that maybe one day in the future when we are possibly much older and by some slim chance our paths cross again, and I recognize you and you remember me in a coincidental meeting under unknown circumstances, that I will strive to rekindle our friendship, and you will know in your heart that it's me because the first spoken words I will say to you in at least seven years will be: "Hi, Lindsey."


Forever Your Friend,
GM

A heavy fog was settled over the forest. It muffled out all sights, smells, and sounds. Every plant, frond, twig and leaf was covered with grey mist. All the world was wet and cool. All was silent… still… eerily peaceful…

But not three feet below in the earth den. The vixen was in labor. But it was too early and everything was going wrong. She panted heavily, trying to catch her breath, but another painful contraction gripped her. She was left gasping for air once it passed.

The she-fox tried to get up and turn into a more comfortable position, but the action of just raising her front half drained her of her strength. Another contraction struck her, and she crumpled to the ground once more.

Five. There were five cubs, all still born. The mother knew it. She sensed it and she smelled it. Death in the den. Greif-stricken, she didn't even bother to look at the pups, and just stared at the far wall of the burrow. It was twilight now.

Soft light filtered through the still winter-bare tree branches and into the den. The vixen waited for sleep from exhaustion to take her, and resolved to burry the pups tomorrow if no scavenger came in the night to take them. She sighed and closed her eyes.

'Wm'

A sound. The she-fox opened her eyes. Lifting her head she looked around and strained to catch the noise again.  She heard nothing.

She scented the air very carefully with long deep breaths. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she scented again. Yes, it was there. Amongst the Death Smell there was Life Scent.

Unsteadily she got to her feet and hurriedly went to the lifeless bodies. She smelled each one in turn, and even gently prodded them with her paw. The dead ones did not bother her now. One living is better than all dead, after all.

The fourth one responded to her touch.

'Wwmmm!' it squeaked in protest to being poked.

Love flowed into the mother's heart and all through out her body. Instinct to protect and care took over, and she gently carried her only living kit to the back of the den to nurse.

Everything would be better now.

A week past and the only living pup grew strong. The mother had plenty of milk to give, but she knew she had to feed herself to stay strong and protect her only surviving son.

With him safely tucked away in the burrow, she cautiously crept out. Carefully passing to mound where her dead children lay buried, she ventured to a fresh hunting ground to find prey.

Normally the dog would have hunted for the vixen when she had had her pups, but her mate had vanished long ago.

He had been an honest and responsible fox, and she knew only something extreme like death could have taken him away. All the more careful she needed to be to take care of herself and her offspring.
Constantly she looked back to check for signs of danger. She knew she'd have to travel far from the den to find prey. Her own scent so heavy around the burrow would keep any food away. But soon, once a good distance into the forest instinct took over again, and she focused on her hunt.

A hare. She detected a hare near by. To her, a hare was big game and if she caught it, she'd be well fed for another whole week. The she-fox began to creep closer.

By the time the hare realized the fox was there, it was too late. It sprang and ran, and the vixen gave chase. She quickly closed in on it and bit at its foot. The hare toppled head over heels and down a slope, but before it could recover, the she-fox was above it, and delivered a swift death bite to the neck. With food in her jaws the vixen turned to head back home, but an all too familiar sound reached her ears.

'Wum, wum,'

A whimpering. The fox looked around quickly and spotted the source of the noise a ways off. In a small clearing a fox pup unsteadily tottered around on little. It hadn't spotted the she-fox, and continued to cry out into the forest.

The vixen watched it for awhile, unsure what to do. Where was this kit's mother? Where was its den? What should she do with this cub?

Suddenly the pup tripped and gave a yelp of pain. By reflex the mother fox dropped her prey and went to aid the kit. She sniffed it over to make sure it wasn't hurt then inspected the area again. Without the hare in her mouth she found that she could smell two things. She smelt humans and she smelt blood. Fox blood.

Her caution returned and so did the urge to get back to her own pup. The cub she found pressed closer to her and attempted to nurse. This kit wasn't much older than her own, and it was all alone and totally defenseless…

With one last quick glance around the clearing, she picked up the pup in her jaws, trotted pasted her kill, and headed home.

XXX

Crevan jerked and pulled and twisted, but he could not get the stick from his brother's grasp.

"Heh, heh! Giv ub, bwother. You canth win!" Todd laughed with the stick in his mouth.

"You're noth mah bwother!" Crevan growled playfully.

The mother fox yawned as she watched her two sons play together. Crevan, her biological son was a tawny cross fox with sandy grey fur. Todd, her adopted son, was a dark coated fox of the common variety.

It had been about a month since she had brought the orphan home, and even though the two had suckled together, Crevan had some how known they weren't related. Just like a human who can look at a group of people can figure if two are related or not, Crevan saw differences between Todd and his mother and him. For instance, Todd's body build was slightly different. He had longer lags, but a shorter tail. His eyes were a different shade and a bit closer together, while his ears were further apart. Now, these differences weren't extreme in the least. No, they were so subtle that a passer by wouldn't have noticed with a quick glance or extended observation. Yet Crevan saw them. And he knew they were not blood kin.

"Oh, come off it!" Todd let go of the stick to speak clearly. "Of course I'm your brother."

"No yur nof," Crevan trotted around with the stick to show off. "Ha. I won."

Todd sat down and scratched his ear indifferently. He too knew that the others in his family were not his blood kin, but they were the closest things he had. The only true thing he wanted more in the world than his real family, was his adopted brother to accept him in return.

His stomach gave an audible rumble, and he flicked his ears back in embarrassment. "Mother are we going to eat soon?" he asked. The mother fox rolled over on her back and stretched like a cat. The pups were weaned now and constantly demanding food for their growing bodies.

"I swear," she smiled. "All you two ever do is eat, sleep and poop." She stood up. "I'll go check our larder."

Todd watched her leave, and Crevan gnawed the stick until it snapped in half.

"Hey! Wanna feel how sharp my teeth are?" He asked devilishly and nipped Todd playfully on the tip of tail. The two then proceeded to get into a friendly tussle.

The vixen returned a moment later. "Bad news cubs," she told them. "Our larder's empty. I'll need to go hunting, so you two stay here. I should be back by sunset if not sooner." She watched them play for a bit then turned to leave. "Oh, and Todd, look after Crevan while I'm gone, okay?" she called over her shoulder.

"Got it!" Todd replied while pinning his little brother down.

"Hey! No fair!" Crevan argued, and they continued to wrestle.

After a while they ended their game too tired and hungry to go on. The sun had set and it was twilight now. Todd sat out side the den and yawned. "I wonder where mother is…" he said quietly.

"Hunting," Crevan told him while taking a dust bath. "Or have you forgotten all ready?"

"I know that. It's just… well, I thought she'd be back by now."

"Maybe the prey's running fast this evening." Crevan got up and shook the excess dirt from his fur. A cold wind blew up, and Todd shivered.

"C'mon, let's get into the den," he said.

"Hmph. You're not the boss of me!" Crevan sniffed and sat put in the clearing.

"Oh, come off it!" Todd rolled his eyes. "Mother told me to look after you, and I'm just doing what she asked."

"I don't need looking after! I can take care of my self!"

Todd took a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm. He debated how to handle the situation, and then an idea hit him. "Yeah, you're right," Todd sighed. "You're old enough to not need looking after," Crevan sat up a little prouder. "In fact, you're big enough to sit out here in the open, and wait for Mother to return. I'm sure the owls will think you're too bit to try to take." Crevan suddenly felt nervous. "Well, have fun! See you when Mother gets back." Todd disappeared down the burrow.

"Ha! You can't scare me!" Crevan called after him, and continued to sit in his spot whit a look of satisfaction on his face. An owl screeched somewhere close by, and Crevan was down the burrow before it finished its cry.

XXX

A groggy Todd dragged himself out of the burrow the next morning when the first few streaks of dawn came to chase the night away. He stretched and yawned and padded over to a sunny spot and let the sun warm him up.

He was more asleep than awake having spent the night on constant vigil. Their mother still failed to return and for the first time in their lives they spent the night with out her. Todd could not fall asleep. Every time he shut his eyes some strange noise stirred him. Was it the wind? An owl? A wild cat? The trees? His own mind playing tricks on him?

Crevan came out of the den a moment later, skipped over to the drowsy Todd, stretched, yawned, scratched his ear, sniffed his brother's ear, shook himself, then sat down and observed all around him. After a few seconds of silence he said; "I'm going to look for Mother."

"What? Why?" said Todd.

"Because she still isn't back and she should have been back, and I am very hungry." He stood up and began to walk into the forest.

Todd staggered to his feet and shook himself awake. "Wait! Crevan!" he called. Todd knew there'd be no convincing him to come back, so he fallowed his brother's trail. "Wait for me!"

They trekked for hours, fallowing the very faint trail of their mother's scent. Twice they lost it, and had to double back. Once they found that they were going in a circle when they confused their mother's scent with their own. But finally, by high noon, the scent began to get stronger.

Crevan began to trot faster from excitement. "I smell her! I smell her! She's close!" he panted and scrambled through the under growth. Todd struggled to keep up. "Mother! Mother! Moth-" Crevan's yips were cut short as he stopped dead in his tracks. Before him lay a strange, unnatural object he had never seen before. It was shiny and silver, cold and hart to the touch. It was Man's Metal.

The contraption was made of two pieces of steel both bent in a 'U' shape, bound together by a spring coil. The edges of the 'U's were lined with small sharp metallic teeth, and the whole device was pegged to the ground with a steel chain. Clamped between these metal jaws was a vixen.

"MOTHER!" Crevan screamed, recognizing the she-fox's pelt, and raced over to her.

"Crevan! Be careful!" Todd shouted after him. "That's a Man-thing! There might be men about!" But Crevan took no notice. Whimpering in panic, he nudged and licked his mother's face but earned no response. The trap had grabbed nearly her entire front half, from her shoulders to the bottom of her ribcage.

Todd tread cautiously closer to the Man's Metal. "M-mother?" he whispered.

The vixen suddenly shuddered and opened her eyes weakly. "Crevan? Todd? Is that you?"

"Yes, Mother. It's us," Crevan's voice shook. "What happened to you?"

"I was hunting… It was dark, and… I didn't see or smell… man's Metal," her voice was quiet and her words came between long pauses. "I… Struggled for hours, but couldn't get free… The end is coming for me soon."

"No, Mother, please!" Crevan pleaded. "Don't go! Don't leave us!"

The vixen gave a deep sigh. "I'm sorry my loved ones… I have to go… The Great Vulpine is calling me."

"Mother…" Todd's throught was tight. "Please. I still need you… I don't want to lose another mother."

"Todd, my eldest," she strained to look at him. "Promise me… Promise me that you'll look after your brother and keep him safe."

"But-"

"Promise…"

"I promise…" he said. "But I won't need to for long, because you're going to be okay! …Right?" The vixen smiled faintly. "My sons… I love you both… We will meet again in a different life… Take care and stay cunning… and remember your promise…" her voice drifted off and her eyes became cloudy.

"Mother…Mother? MOTHER!" Crevan pawed franticly at her side, but the she-fox was dead. He cried and curled up against the body, desperate to hang on to the familiar warmth that was already fading fast.

Todd curled up near her tail and stared blindly into the forest. It didn't make sense. He had seen many dead things in his short life. He had been too young to have remembered the death of his biological family, but he had seen plenty of dead prey. Dead prey didn't make him feel like this. Was it because they were small? No, his mother had shown him a dead owl once to warn them of a creature that could kill a fox pup. They were quite large and predators like the fox, but the dead owl didn't make him feel like this. Why? What was it that was causing him to feel such an agonizing emotion?

He thought about it for a few hours, until the sun began to set. Crevan cried himself to sleep, and Todd passed out from exhaustion. Neither was too concerned about sleeping totally exposed in the open that night.

Todd was the first to awake the next morning. The sun had risen a good deal, but he felt drained. He felt drained of energy and of emotion. His instincts told him he could physically grieve no more. Survival mode would now kick in.

"Crevan… Crevan, wake up." Todd said. The younger fox was still curled up tight next to the cold body. "Crevan, we need to go. It's not safe here."

"No. I don't care. I won't leave Mother!" Crevan growled without looking at Todd.

"Crevan! Men left this Man-thing here for this purpose!" He pointed his nose at the trapped carcass. "They are eventually going to come back to check it!"

"I. Don't. CARE!"

"I'm keeping my promise I gave to Mother, and will look after you. But to do that we need to move on. It's what our mother would want-"

"She wasn't your mother!" Crevan yelled. Todd flinched. "If you want to leave so bad, then go! I won't stop you!"

"Fine!" Todd's temper finally snapped. Crevan's hurtful words had pushed him too far. "I will go! You just watch me!" Todd turned and stomped off into the forest, leaving his brother all alone.

Crevan didn't care. He didn't care that Todd had left. He didn't care that humans might come find him. He didn't care about any thing now that his mother was gone.

But Todd still cared. After a long walk his anger cooled off and guild set in. He knew he shouldn't have left his brother on his own, but his words had made him so mad! Yet… he remembered his promise and turned back. He had already lost one family, and was now determined not to lose another.

Crevan hadn't moved an inch since Todd's departure, nor did he even twitch when Todd stepped close to him. Neither of them spoke as Todd curled close to his brother for comport and apology.

XXX

Todd hadn't even realized he had drifted off to sleep until a noise woke him up. He had heard footsteps. Very, very, large footsteps.

"Crevan, wake up! Something large is coming our way." Crevan lifted his head sullenly, and fallowed his brother's gaze into the forest. Two very large up-right walking creatures were coming toward them. They were men.

"Oi, lookit! Caught us a fox'n this 'un," said one of them.

"An' two li-le cubs!" said the other. Too scared to move, the pups remained frozen to the spot as the men came over. With a swift hand, one man quickly swiped them up and threw them in a cage.

"What you want ta do wi' 'em? Kill 'em on da spot?" said the first man.

"Naw, lookit the daark one. His coat will catch a pretty penny."

"An' the tawny is perdy unique too, ya think?"

"Ya, an' if day grow an' get bigger, there'r be more coat on 'em ta sell."

"So you sayin' we take 'em back to da faarm?"

"Ya. We always got plenty o' room."

Todd and Crevan huddled together in fear. Neither of them understood the men's strange alien language, and were too afraid to go any thing. Crevan only gave the slightest of whimpers as he watched the humans remove his mother from the trap and shoe her lifeless body into a bag before resetting the device and heading off into the unknown.