"Mr. Mckay... believe me, I mean this with no disrespect, but have you gone mad?" A woman's voice cut through the air, waking the little fox. His whole body felt heavy with fatigue, and he wanted nothing more than to just go back to sleep against the warmth enveloping him, to relax and forget the stresses of the day... A warm hand stroked his back comfortingly as he stirred.

"Mrs. Presley, I assure you... it's perfectly harmless. Just a little pup." A gentle, deep voice rumbled warmly from the man's chest, and the kit tucked his head into the crook of the old man's arm. The soft crackling of fire in its hearth spilled out into the night through the open doorway. 

Mrs. Presley sighed, hesitating and glancing at the little creature in Mr. Mckay's arms before opening her door wider, shaking her head. "Goodness... Come in, Mr. Mckay, there's no need for you to be standing out in the cold like this..." Mr. Mckay gave her a kind smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling softly.

"Thank you, Martha. I am sorry to bother you in the evening like this..." He spoke with a respectful, hushed tone, gladly accepting the warmth that her home provided. 

"Really, Mr. Mckay... you know I have no problem with you visiting at any time, if you need... It’s just–" She paused, gesturing to the sleeping creature in his arms. "...where did you find this thing? And, why have you brought it here!?" 

Mr. Mckay chuckled. "Well, I was simply taking an evening stroll through the woods, Martha, you do know how I enjoy a good stroll..." He began, setting down his basket of wild garlic leaves. "I recalled seeing a sizeable patch of ramsons, and considering our discussion from supper, I decided to bring some back to you."

Mrs. Presley stared at the basket, shaking her head quickly. "Oh, Mr. Mckay, you didn't have to do that...!"

"Nonsense, nonsense..." Mr. Mckay waved her off. "As I said, I was simply enjoying a stroll through the woods. It was no trouble at all, hardly even out of my way. Anyway, I was gathering some of the wild garlic here, when I found this little pup among the leaves. I could not simply leave it there, and seeing as it has been many years since I last raised a hound, I figured I might as well take it with me."

"But... Mr. Mckay, this is not a hound! This is... well, I can't be certain exactly, but it is clearly a wild beast, of some kind! Wouldn't it be better to let its mother find it? What are you going to do if it grows up to be a wolf?" Mrs. Presley scolded.

Mr. Mckay simply smiled, shaking his head. "My dear, this thing can't yet even eat a little piece of cheese. Don't you think that raised from such an age, it might not matter what it grows to be? Besides, it had very clearly lost its mother. If I were to have left it then, it would have died." 

The pup stirred softly in Mr. Mckay's arms, and Mrs. Presley could not help but to feel some pity for the little thing... It was quite cute... She sighed.  "...Still. Why... Why have you brought it here? Surely, you do not expect me to care for it? I have children to think of!"

Mr. Mckay nodded. "Of course not, Martha. I would not expect such a thing of you. I had to stop by to deliver the ramsons to you, and I simply wondered if I might ask for a bit of milk for this poor thing? I haven't any in my home, and your goats have always been rather productive." 

Mrs. Presley paused, sighing. Really... such an old man should not be taking care of a wild beast... no matter how small and cute it was! Still, she knew how stubborn old Mr. Aaron Mckay could be. If this is what he had decided to do, this was what he was going to do. Shaking her head and sighing once more, she stood up. "...Stay here, I will bring you some of today's milk from the cellar..." She said, defeated. 

Mr. Mckay offered her a warm, dazzling smile. "Thank you, my dear."

She simply waved him off, leaving briefly to retrieve a bit of goat's milk from the cellar. She returned, handing him the bottle. "...I suppose it is the least I can do, Mr. Mckay... You only found this beast because you were looking to gather some herbs for me... I hope it does not cause you any trouble." 

He nodded, smiling again and gladly accepting the bottle of milk. "I hope so as well. Thank you for your kindness, Martha. I much appreciate it." 

They said their goodbyes, and finally, he headed home for the night.

Once home, he nestled the little creature atop a little blanket inside of a basket, before going to start a fire in his hearth. He set to boiling some water for a nice evening cup of tea; the chamomile in his garden had been doing quite well this year. Though he supposed that it always did well. It was rather like a weed in some ways, with how vigorously it grew and spread. Still, he was glad for it. He always did enjoy a relaxing cup of chamomile tea, with its sweet and appley notes. 

As the water began heating, he heard the little pup cry out. He returned back to where he had left it, kneeling down gently next to the basket. The beast was wide awake now, eyeing him warily. He smiled, speaking gently. "Hello, little thing, what do you think of your new home?" He said softly, reaching to stroke the creature's back. The pup tensed at first, but quickly relaxed as it realized that it was not in any danger. It stared up at him, making a little sound. He chuckled warmly. "Ah? Hungry, are we?" He rubbed gently behind the little cub's ears before standing up.

He grabbed the bottle of milk, going to set it into the pot of water as it began to boil. As the milk warmed, he found a clean piece of cloth. Going back to the pup, he picked up the basket gently, bringing it to the table. He retrieved the milk before it could get too hot, and used the cloth to stop the top of the bottle. He tipped it carefully, allowing the milk to saturate the fabric. It dripped out slowly, and he tipped the bottle back once more, bringing it to the little creature. 

"Here you are, little thing." He spoke softly, picking up the little beast and setting it on the table as he sat down. He allowed the creature to sniff the bottle, before tipping it gently. It didn't take long before the pup had latched onto a little nub of the cloth, greedily drinking the milk. Its eyes squeezed shut as it filled its belly. Mr. Mckay looked on warmly at the little beast, which now relaxed under his touch as it continued to feed. He stroked its soft, fuzzy back. There was no world in which this creature deserved to die. Who cared if it was a wild beast? It was only a baby, and raised by his hand, who could say that it was still wild? 

After some time had passed, he noticed the creature slow in its feeding, and he pulled the bottle back. He set it down, gently wiping the little pup's face. It made a small noise in protest, and he chuckled as he watched it try to pull away. He gently picked it back up, placing it back in its basket as he stood up to fetch his water, which was now boiling. The pup cried out for him, tugging at his heartstrings. "Yes, yes, little thing... I will be right there." He reassured it. He made himself a good mug of chamomile tea, before returning to the table and sitting down. The little creature watched him with drowsy eyes, though it looked determined to stay awake. He chuckled again, stroking the little beast's soft fur. It fell asleep quite easily, content to finally have a full belly and a safe place to stay.

Mr. Mckay drank his tea, enjoying the warm sounds of fire crackling in the fireplace. He grew tired, and he carried the basket with him to his room, setting it down as he changed into his night garments. He got into bed, but as he was drifting off to sleep, a little cry interrupted, breaking through the darkness. It was a desperate little call, and Mr. Mckay got up, carefully making his way over to where he had left the basket.

"It's alright, little pup... I'm here." He murmured, finding it in the dark. The pup squirmed into his hands, complaining with little sounds as it was reassured that it had not been abandoned by him. With only a moment's hesitation, he picked up the beast, cradling it close to his chest as he returned to his bed. He got back under the covers, and the little pup nestled itself against him, sufficiently contented. 

Everything would be different from now on, he was sure. Mr. Mckay held the pup gently, protectively. He could already tell that it trusted him, relied on him. He would make sure that nothing bad happened to this little beast. He stroked the small thing's back, listening to its soft breaths as they evened out. Yes... this had been the right choice. Like that, he fell asleep, ready for the days to come.