Drake lifted his nose to the air and let the wind carry the scent of sand and sun to him. He needed to get back to the medical suite so he could get everything ready for when the pack returned. If anything happened to the twins because he wasn’t prepared, Drake would be crushed under the weight of his own guilt. But it was habit now to scent the air every time they crossed the sands, hoping for a hint of where the foxes had holed up.

And this time, a bit of adorable nonsense caught his nose. The Black Fox was out and about. Blackie.

Keeping downwind was difficult when the wind changed quick as a breath. Drake had grown up in the desert, though, and knew the tricks it tried to play. He followed his nose to where a fox with the oddest coloring was currently stalking a rodent, ears twitching each time the mouse moved. Suddenly, the fox darted forward and pounced on the small animal. It was an instant kill.

On the inside Drake was smiling. His fur couldn’t handle the expression, but his tail wagged to show he was proud of the little fox. The coloring was so odd, still. A black tail with a white tip, just like Black Fox. Black ears and black from the eyes back to the neck, with white speckled in, just like Black Fox. Unlike Black Fox this fox had brown stocking marks on his paws, and his body was a light tan color.

It looked like one of the small pups had found a toy and tried to color it with whatever paint was on hand.

Drake didn’t go unnoticed, though, and when that head turned to him with startled fear he couldn’t help but let his tongue roll out of his mouth in a pant and let his tail give a small wave of greeting.

The fox snatched up the kill and backed away.

Drake trotted around it, bigger and faster, and wondered if he could herd the smaller animal towards the village. If he had the pack with him it would be easy. There were other considerations, too, like whatever foul scent had soured the mission. Mentally shrugging, Drake took a quick step forward and sniffed under the fox’s tail.

The yip that sounded was pure instinct. Foxes weren’t used to that treatment and Drake knew it. Even wolves didn’t always adhere to the dog behavior. The move was also strictly a wild animal action; people tended to sniff necks or jaws where the sweat gathered while in their skin.

Blackie had dropped the kill as he moved away, and Drake eyed it curiously. For a small wild fox it might have been enough, but it was hardly a fit meal. Not to mention the fact that it was a rat. Drake ignored it and shoved his snout back under Blackie’s hind end to sniff at his balls, where the fox’s scent was strongest.

As expected, the fox took a leap away from the wolf and scrambled to keep the larger animal in his sights.

Drake sat and considered. He would get away with teasing the fox towards the village for a little while. Eventually Blackie would figure out they were getting close to the wolves, however, and redirect. He’d also start to suspect Drake was more than just a wild wolf. Drake wasn’t going to be able to get him in the village alone without a lot of time and effort, neither of which he had.

Wagging his tail a bit to show he meant no harm, Drake growled a bit and then barked. The earpiece hidden in his fur crackled for a moment; that was Trace’s signal that he’d gotten the message and marked the location. The fox tilted his head to the side, confused. Still wagging his tail, Drake pounced and swiped a large lick up the side of Blackie’s face while his larger weight pushed the fox to the sand. Running towards an oasis he often used, Drake turned and raised his tail. A challenge to the fox to come and play.

Snarling, Blackie took up the challenge. Drake could see him pausing now and again to mark where they were, tracking their path in the sand so he wouldn’t get lost. But when the waterhole oasis was in view Blackie perked up immediately and dove on the fresh drinking water like he was starving and it was a last meal offered by the gods. Drake went hunting while the fox was busy drinking his weight’s worth. When he found the family of weasels, killing two was an easy task. He left the female and most of the babies so the population wouldn’t die out.

Blackie’s head shot up when the kills were dropped beside him. Larger than the rats that lived out in the wasteland Blackie had been exploring, and still smaller than the antelope and gazelle Drake knew sometimes frequented the watering hole. It wasn’t perfect, but for a quick hunt it was enough. Drake wouldn’t worry the cutie was dying, at any rate.

The fox cocked that odd-colored head to the side. Growling again, Drake shoved the weasels closer. Then Drake took off running so he could get back to the village. As much as he wanted to stay, Drake still had things to do. It took a bit longer; he didn’t want to go directly back in case Blackie tried to follow him. That meant doubling back a few times and circling his own trail in a maze that would lead the fox back to the oasis instead of the village. Once he was sure the fox hadn’t been interested in following, Drake went to the main gate. The guard there always kept a robe for ninja who arrived in their fur, and his face was recognizable enough they didn’t question his entrance even without an official pass.

“You marked the spot, right?” he asked as he passed through the streets towards the main hall.

“Sounded more like playtime than work,” Trace growled. “I marked your entire path. Who did you want at the oasis?”

“A little lost fox,” Drake said quietly as he nodded to familiar vendors. Market street was slow with the heat of the day on them; it would get livelier in the evening. “He was hunting rodents.”

“You didn’t bring him back with you?”

“It’d take to long to bring him back alone. And since the comms have been quiet I have no idea what’s going on,” Drake muttered. He did a quick sweep of the pack’s room to make sure nothing had been disturbed before pulling out some clean clothes. “Is everything according to plan?”

“Yes and no,” Trace answered. “Dinner was delayed. Tic’s distraction was supposed to be a sprained ankle or wrist, but it sounds like one of the pigs got into a fight with him. I think he either has a broken ankle or a broken leg. They did sit down to eat, and no one questioned that neither of the twins was present or hungry. They’re still with the guards for questioning though. I don’t like how long they’re being held.”

“Did we get the target?” Drake asked as he entered the medical suite and began pulling out what he’d need for x-rays and casts. “Any other complications?”

“Yes to the first, no to the second. We are proceeding according to backup plan C at the moment. The dogs have a scent on something, perhaps the dealing that caused our mission. Or maybe they’re just irritated someone died in their territory, it’s hard to tell.”

“Right. I’ll keep watch here and I’ll be ready for broken limbs. Get the brats back alive, and I’ll do my best not to poison them this month.”

“We need radio silence for a bit, Drake,” Slick said. Drake could hear an apology in the tone, and shook it off.

“I know what plan C is, no worries. I’ll keep the earpiece on if you need me, but I’m turning the mic off. You don’t need village chatter on the line.”

But the silence that replaced it set Drake’s nerves on edge. He much preferred the chatter.