Chapter 53
Watching Trent lying there in a dramatic state of faux-death, the little fox hopped down from the tree and nudged him with a skeptical paw.
Trent didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.
The fox nudged him again. Still, the peacock remained a motionless heap of ruined feathers.
A flash of impatience crossed the little fox's eyes, and its mouth curled into a predatory smirk. It began to leap wildly all over Trent's body. Thump—thump—thump. Each bounce sent a fresh cloud of dust and stray green feathers flying into the air. Trent felt his very soul drifting away with every lost plume, yet he remained stubbornly still.
"Squeak!" Seeing that the "dead" peacock wouldn't budge, the little fox let out a low, dangerous sound. It raised a front paw, its claws extending into sharp, glinting points.
Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Trent's eyelids quivered.
