Foxy’s adventures continue in Book 2 of the series:
The Call of the Hollow Hills
Available soon.

Read on for a preview…

                                                 

 Meanwhile, a whole seven day’s fox walk away another young fox with shining chestnut brown eyes, golden fur and an equally impressive tail. was sniffing the air. Shivering, not with excitement like Foxy, but with terror, his senses on high alert, nose raised to the grey sky, fur flat, hackles risen, ears pricked up, he was alert and ready to run for his life.
   Chilling echoes of barks and snarls of dogs, battered his mind with terrifying thoughts, preventing him thinking or planning, his mind racing with questions where to go, what to do and how to save his life. Frozen with fear, he wasted precious seconds as the cacophony of noise grew nearer; they were closing in on him.
   Forcing himself to move, he panted towards a grassy mound, he was almost done for, almost resigned to his fate, he had one last surge of energy left in him, he had to use it wisely.
   Peering down from his hilltop he saw a sludgy, swirling, fast flowing ribbon of water. He had to make a terrible choice; to take a leap into the dark grey mess or to stand his ground and face the enemy.
   He was strong and proud, but instinctively knew when to fight and when to run, looking back at the pack heading towards his refuge, he made his decision and slithered down the muddy bank allowing himself to slip silently into the river.
   Cold water reached his ears, mud filled his mouth and almost overwhelmed him, he surrendered, relaxed and let himself be taken away from danger, from the land he knew and into the unknown.  He heard the dreadful, heart stopping howl of dogs receding as he allowed his aching body to float, and gave himself to the flow of the river; surrendering to his fate
   A sandy bank way downstream saved him, he crawled out, shivering with cold; exhausted, but alive. He couldn’t remember how he had got here and didn’t know who he was or why he wasn’t with his family as he rested his nose on his paws and collapsed into a heap of bones on the muddy ground.

Excerpt from
Call of the Hollow Hills
Pen Humphries