[Y/n] could be easily described as curious to most. With the constant need to learn everything and anything the world had to offer her. Almost always did she come back with a new bump, bruise, or scratch. If not just a scratch then whatever caused t...
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It wasn't exactly uncommon for the creatures of the forest to put up a fuss when their needs needed to be met.
She remembered chasing after deer with a broken leg. Wild dogs who tore into each other leading to bite marks and sore feelings. Tortoises, who were surprisingly fast, sun burned shells from being stuck upside down.
With their reluctance came the fighting. Teeth, claws and sheer force was used on her.
And she let them.
"Biting me isn't changing anything." [Y/n] looked down at the old fox in her arms. Biting and gnawing at her exposed hands that were already covered in open wounds. Causing slivers of golden blood to run and stain its muzzle. She had wrapped the old canine in her gym suit jacket to keep his own blood off of her.
Her training had been listed on a piece of paper. Things she was familiar with. Things she knew with confidence.
Tracking.
Healing.
Reporting.
But what she didn't know, was the fact she would be tracking trash thieves. And now she stumbled through the forest, covered head to toe in mud, scrapes and burs. Her once neat braids a mess, with the left being almost completely undone and missing its golden clasp.
[Y/n] readjusted the bag on her back. Jostling the two sleeping fox kits inside. They were a lot easier to convince to be taken in. Only putting up a fight when she had no more meat to share with them. But the simple offer of more was all it took.
At least they're easy to manage.
The fox in her arms let out a scream. The sound echoing before being silenced by a hand on its snout.
"Oh shush you old fart." [Y/n] turned her attention forward. Stopping short of exiting the forest.
