What was going on? Why did it suddenly lose the urge to devour this woman?
It didn't even understand why it acted this way!
Just looking into those eyes, so utterly different from anyone else's, stirred a strange feeling it had never experienced before. That feeling compelled it to do something unprecedented: let the woman go. Yet, after doing so, it felt… wonderful! What was happening?
Noticing the fox ignoring her, the woman fell silent for a moment before speaking slowly, "Let me bandage your wound. If you keep bleeding like this, you'll die."
She didn't even consider who had harmed it. Even if it wasn't her, it could have been a human like her.
So, you're human—you bear some responsibility too!
The fox lowered its head, continuing to lick its wound, ignoring her.
"Rip!" The sound of tearing cloth startled it, and it stared intently at the woman tearing her clothes.
Was she insane? In this harsh weather, clothes were as vital as fur for warmth, yet she was ripping them into pieces…
As the woman tore her clothes into strips and approached, a surge of murderous intent coursed through the fox's body.
Perhaps it was bewitched, but it had missed the perfect chance to kill her. That would have let her get even closer. Humans were masters of deception, pretending to be kind only to strike when you let your guard down. How could it forget that? Its mother was a prime example—she died at the hands of a hypocrite.
It aimed for the defenseless woman's neck. In that moment, it resolved to kill this hypocrite, staking everything on it.
"You need to stop the bleeding. These strips can help," the woman explained gently, sensing its ferocity. It could feel her caution, yet she continued to approach, as if unafraid of being bitten again.
"Whimper!" Staring into the woman's clear eyes, a sudden urge to trust her welled up inside it.
Trust her or not?
Humans were far more fickle, hypocritical, greedy, and cunning than foxes…
"Don't be afraid. I'll bandage your wound carefully—it won't hurt."
Sensing the snow fox staring at her, perhaps out of fear of pain, the woman tried to comfort it.
Seeing her smile, the fox suddenly realized:
"Never trust humans!"
It took a step back, preparing to lunge and bite…
The woman's hand was already close, its target within reach. One move, and it was certain her neck would be in its jaws.
It waited, biding its time for the perfect moment…
Now…
"Hmm…"
The sudden whimper from the woman made it pause, instinctively glancing at its bitten wrist. Blood had soaked through the thick cotton jacket, dripping steadily onto the ground, staining the sleeve covering her arm a deep red.
The woman was almost fainting from blood loss, and the bleeding wouldn't stop. Why hadn't she bandaged her wound yet?
The snow fox realized this and shivered at the thought.
Why was it so full of doubts? Even if the woman bled out completely, it shouldn't care. After all, she and the fox belonged to different species.
While the snow fox was lost in thought, the woman cautiously lifted its injured left hind leg, gently wrapping a torn piece of cloth around the wound, carefully bandaging it.
From start to finish, the snow fox didn't resist, quietly and obediently letting the woman tend to its injury.
"Look, it doesn't hurt at all, does it? I'm an expert at bandaging wounds. Back at my employer's house, every time I was punished for doing something wrong, I had to bandage my own wounds. So I know how to do it and which herbs work best for which injuries. By the way, were you shot? Did a hunter injure you? Be more careful next time. If they catch you, they'll kill you…"
This human—why was she so talkative? Couldn't she just bandage the wound in silence? All this chattering, and it couldn't even respond.
"All done! Not bad!" the woman said, satisfied with her work. "Your fur is so white and beautiful. It'd be a shame if it scarred. Too bad I didn't bring any ointment…"
The woman seemed about to say more, but the fox froze.
What was she doing?! Had she forgotten her own wound? Her blood was still dripping, and the dark gray sleeve was nearly black now.
A wave of irritation surged within the fox, and it instinctively tugged at the woman's charred sleeve with its teeth.
"Huh? Do you want to drink some of my blood? Sure, as long as you don't mind the taste." With that, she rolled up her sleeve, revealing the deep bite marks pierced by its teeth.
This human—was she completely different from anyone it had ever met? Was she just foolish, or truly extraordinary? Suppressing its frustration, the fox lowered its head, picked up a torn piece of cloth, and placed it over her injured wrist. It didn't want to see her keep bleeding, watching the clotted, mottled red stains on her arm—it was a pain too hard to describe.
It couldn't tell her it understood her words, but its actions were clear enough. Hopefully, she wouldn't misunderstand again.
"Are you hoping I'll bandage my own wound too?"
The fox was impressed. Maybe she wasn't that foolish after all.