"Do you think Papa is going to the peace
meeting, Aunt Briar?”

Aunt Briar sighed and shifted the basket of blackberries from one hip to the other. her tail flicked in annoyance. In the early July sunshine, her paws and fur were speckled with purple blackberry stains. Her eyes flickered with impatience, but she still managed to say, “Autumn…these are all questions for your Mama and Papa. Not me.”

“But you know how they are,” Autumn yipped in dismay, ears flattening against her auburn-furred head. “They won’t say a word. And I’m not a kit!”

Her aunt only shook her head and returned to picking blackberries from the
blackberry patch. The wild patch of bushes grew down a small path from their home, sheltered in a grove of spruce trees. The tall trees shifted in the wind, and speckled patterns danced across the forest floor.

“When is the meeting, anyways?” Autumn spoke up once again, stealing a blackberry from the basket. It earned her a sharp glance from her aunt, but she popped it in her mouth, anyway.

“Autumn.” Aunt Briar sighed and brushed the orange fur from her eyes. Aunt Briar had the same rusted orange fur, black paws, and dark ears that the rest of Autumn’s family did. She even had the same birthmark Autumn had-a small freckle above her right eye. “You’re still asking questions I can’t answer.”

Autumn sighed dramatically. “Oh, c’mon, Aunt Briar! You know they never tell me anything, and I’m not a kit.”

Her aunt smiled and shook her head. “You’re just like your father when he was younger-never knew enough about things until every drop of information was squeezed out of everyone.” She chuckled, picking another blackberry and dropping it in the basket. “It used to drive me crazy…” She ruffled her niece’s fur.

Autumn laughed and swiped her black-dipped paw away. “It’s not my fault.” She crossed her arms. “I must’ve inherited it from Papa.”

“You must have.” Aunt Briar agreed, turning back to collecting blackberries. “If you’re done here, why don’t you go find River and Finch and you three can come play over here. I’m sure they’d like to get out of the den.”

“But Mama said I can’t walk alone…”

Aunt Briar rolled her eyes. “Your mama
will survive. I’m certain you’re capable of walking yourself back to the den.” She nodded her head in the direction of the path. “Just don’t wander. If you don’t tell her, I won’t.”

Autumn lit up. “I won’t!”

Turning on her heels and dropping to
all four paws, Autumn darted down the trail, careful not to trip on her skirts. She looked to the sky. It was already midday.

Papa’s been gone eight hours now, Autumn thought, her snout wrinkling.

She was used to the early mornings when
she’d wake up to find him gone. Upon being questioned, Mama would always say, “He’s gone into town for a few hours. He’ll be back by lunch.” Autumn was so used to the same answers she always got that she had stopped even asking. Papa was the clan’s leader after all. He went into town when needed and returned to the den like a breeze through the trees. She’d never really questioned what he was doing.

That was until a few weeks ago.

Papa had brought the news that a foreign creature had trespassed on fox clan land, bringing news of a meeting being called. Creatures from every clan-cat, raccoon, badger, weasel, wolf and fox, all the like-were being invited to the Great Tree for a peace meeting.

When she’d tried to get more information from Papa, he’d just glanced at Mama and said, “Not now, dear.”

Since then, everyone had been acting strangely. Papa took late-night trips into town for just a few hours. Mama was always glancing at the door, as if waiting for someone to knock. Aunt Briar whispered to Mama and Papa in hushed tones when she thought Autumn’s back was turned.

Whatever it was, it had made them upset.

And Autumn needed to know.

The surrounding trees changed, and from up ahead, Autumn spotted the first glimmers of the sunny clearing her family’s den sat in. She put on a big burst of speed, bounding into the sunny dell.

Located an hour’s walk from the village, her home was dug into the base of a small oak tree. The roots of the oak twisted up and around the entrance, a large green door with a brass flower doorknocker. Ferns swayed peacefully on the surrounding ground, and the occasional wildflower sprung up in the sea of ferns.

Plants bending down to brush her pelt, Autumn trotted up to the door. Standing again on two paws, she opened the door and slipped in. The floor of the hallway sloped into the earth and under the tree. At the end, the hallway opened up into a large circular room. It was small, but cozy.

River and Finch, her younger siblings, were both wrestling on the carpet. Upon spotting their older sister, they scrambled to their feet and rushed over.

“Mama, I’m back!” Autumn called, scooping Finch up in her arms. Finch giggled, and Autumn rubbed her nose against her little sister’s. “Hello, Finchy-winchy,” Autumn cooed to the young kit.

“She’s not gunna say ‘hello’ back.” River snorted, rolling his eyes.

Autumn gave him a withering look. But before she could retort, saying that Finch would start talking soon, Mama hurried out of the kitchen. She wiped her black paws on her flour-covered apron and smiled. Her normally vibrant orange fur looked muted in the dim lighting of the den.

“Ah. There you are. Where’s Briar?” Her face turned worried. “She didn’t let you walk here alone, did she?”

Autumn winced and set Finch on the floor. “The blackberry patch isn’t that far, I wasn’t going to get lost.” Autumn tried to keep her tone light, knowing her mama would panic if she thought Autumn had wandered off alone.

“I’ll have to tell her again not to let you walk by yourself.” She tisked, wringing her paws.

“I’m not a kit anymore.” Autumn muttered, tail flicking in annoyance.

Mama shook her orange-furred head. Her fur looked the same color as Aunt Briar’s, but Autumn knew if she were to put the two of them next to each other, Mama would be lighter. Besides that, Mama shared the same black paws and ears that Autumn and her siblings did. “Never mind that; come into the kitchen and try the salad I’ve prepared for dinner. Barley will be home soon.”

Autumn followed Mama through a small opening in one side of the walls, and they slid into the kitchen. It was a large room, dug closer to the surface. In the roof, a circular hole had been dug to create a window, letting late-summer light flood into the space. Herbs hung from low-growing roots, and the whole room smelled of blackberries and damp earth.

“Why did Papa leave today, anyway?” Autumn asked casually, coming to stand by the kitchen table. Perhaps she could coax her mama to share more information about the meeting.

“Just a meeting with the town foxes.” She answered slowly, scooping up a spoonful of the salad and passing it to her.

“Oh.” Autumn took the wooden spoon and stared at the leafy greens like they held the answer she was looking for. Why couldn’t Autumn ever just get a straight answer from her? What could Papa possibly be doing in town that she couldn’t know about?

Mama turned to the fireplace and bent over to stir the pot of blackberry jam. “Well? How’s it taste?” she asked.

Autumn slipped the spoonful of salad into her mouth. She chewed it briefly and then swallowed. “It’s good.” She discarded the spoon in the wash pail with a plink.

Mama smiled softly and stirred the bubbling jam over the fireplace. It was round and made of clay with stones pressed in. Papa had built into the wall so that the living room had the other side of it, instead of building another one. In the winters she and her siblings liked to curl up close to it.

Before Autumn could ask any more questions, River and Finch rushed in behind her, scrambling over their own paws to reach them. Finch clung to her skirt, and River grabbed her arm.

“I win!” he announced loudly.

Autumn winced and pulled her arm free of his grip. “Not so loud, River,” she complained.

He stuck his tongue out at her, and she stuck hers out in turn.

“Mama, can’t we go outside with Autumn? I’m tired of playing inside.” River yipped, crossing the room to her. He slipped his paws around her middle and looked up at her with big, innocent eyes.

Mama shooed him off. “No, not now. Aunt Briar isn’t here to walk with you.”

Autumn stifled a groan. This again? Why did Mama have to be so wary of the woods? There were no creatures out there that would harm them. Most of the clan foxes lived in town or past the river-north of their den. No one ever traveled their way. And if they traveled much further south from their home, they’d find rabbit territory. But that was days’ walk from here.

They were safe.

“Never mind, River.” Autumn spoke up. “I’ll just read you a story instead.”

River’s ears drooped, but he nodded and padded out of the kitchen. He returned after a few seconds with an old book in hand. Autumn settled onto the rug near the kitchen fireplace, brushing crumbs off the faded fabric. River flopped beside her, tail flicking impatiently. Finch curled up on her other side, her little paws tucked under her chin.

“Ah, the Great War, hmm?” Autumn smiled. “Don’t you ever tire of this story?”

River smiled, which revealed two sharp canine teeth. “Nope! Who could get bored with hearing about the evil wolves?”

Mama cleared her throat. “They’re not quite that bad, River.”

Autumn’s brows furrowed, and she looked at Mama’s turned back. Since when had she decided the wolves weren’t bad? Mama just hummed softly, oblivious to her daughter’s confusion.

Mama was odd like that, Autumn supposed.

Finch tugged at her sleeve impatiently, and Autumn reluctantly turned her brown eyes to the page. She drew a slow breath and then began. “Once upon a time, in the very center of the Fernshade Forest, creatures of every kind lived peacefully at the Great Tree…”

Autumn knew this story by heart, of course. When she was River’s age, she’d been just as interested in it as he was. After all, what young vixen wouldn’t want to know about the great war that forced creatures to turn against each other? The Great Divide was what shaped the entire forest.

Her life wouldn’t be the same.

“The creatures lived happily under the rule of the last good king. But then…” Autumn bared her teeth dramatically, hunching like an evil wolf. “The bad wolf king took the throne by force.”

Finch gasped and River grinned. “Keep going!”

“The new king ruined the land, and the creatures turned against him. In the war, many castles and homes were destroyed. And the wolves were banished over the mountainside to the wild, dangerous wilderness that grew there…never to be seen again.”

Autumn finished, closing the book. She’d read for an hour, the slanted light from the above-ground window crawling across the ground as it turned to evening. Dust floated about the kitchen and caught in the light rays, like fireflies.

Autumn was surprised to find River and Finch still awake by the end. The kitchen had become the perfect napping spot- warm beams of light coming through the window and the smell of blackberry jam floating in the air. Yet both of them were staring up at her with wide eyes.

“How come the wolf king was so mean?” River asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. I guess all wolves are like that,” Autumn said, setting the book aside.

River opened his mouth to speak again, but a loud knock on the door interrupted him. Mama stiffened and turned slowly, her ears alert.

“Wait. Shh.”

The loud knock turned into a familiar pattern-the one Papa always used.

Knock-knock-thud. Thud. Knock.

“Ah,” Mama visibly relaxed. “Your father’s back. Come on, you three.” Her tone was light, but Autumn could hear the faint strain in it.

They followed her back into the living room. The door opened, warm sunlight flooding down the hall. Then it closed, and the light died with it. After a moment, Papa appeared, trotting down the hallway, with the familiar step, step, step following his paws.

Autumn’s ears perked.

“I’m home,” came Papa’s cheerful voice.

River scrambled to his side. “Papa!” he shouted, racing into his open arms. Papa ruffled his fur. “Ah, there’s my favorite tod.”

Finch hurried to him too, clinging to his leg.

He greeted her with an open arm. He somehow managed to scoop her up with his one good arm. “Hello, my dear.” His tired face lit up in a smile and he rubbed noses against Finch’s.

Finch smiled and giggled. Autumn just stood watching, brushing invisible crumbs from her skirt. It felt wrong to greet him as normal when something was clearly going on. Maybe now that Papa was back, he’d finally answer some of her questions.

Papa stepped into the den, his fur dusted with road dirt, his cloak askew. He looked older. Not just the usual tired after an early morning, but the tired that had been burdened by secrets. His smile flickered when he saw Autumn.

River grinned and tugged his sleeve. “Did you bring anything from town?”

Papa chuckled, prying his eyes away from Autumn. “Only stories. Perhaps I’ll tell one after supper.”

Mama stepped forward, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. “You’re late,” she said softly, but her voice held more worry than scolding.

Papa nodded. “I had a long meeting with the town foxes.”

Autumn lit up at the opportunity to get some answers. “What was the meeting about, Papa?”

He paused, then shrugged. “Fallen trees on one foxes’ den. Nothing to worry about.” But his tail twitched, and Mama didn’t meet her eyes.

“What happened to the news of that peace meeting? Are any of the town foxes going?” she pried.

Papa looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Autumn,” he said, his voice firm but gentle, “some things aren’t for you to worry about right now.” His jaw tightened slightly.

Only Autumn noticed.

She folded her arms and looked away, disappointment settling around her like a blanket. They were still trying to keep it from her? why even bother? She wasn’t a kit anymore.

Autumn muttered, “But I want to help.”

Papa sighed, running a paw through his fur. “I know. But helping sometimes means trusting. Can’t you do that?”

Autumn didn’t answer. She didn’t know how to. How was she supposed to trust in something she didn’t understand? If it really wasn’t a big mystery, why go through the effort of all the secrecy?

She was going to get answers one way or another.

*****

 “Defeat me if you dare!”

River stood up, wielding a small wooden sword carved by Papa. Everyone laughed, and Autumn rolled her eyes. She stood up from where she’d been sitting on the den living room floor. Aunt Briar and Mama were in their rocking chairs, knitting hooks in their paws, while Papa sat in his big green chair, the Creator’s book in his lap.

Autumn reached for her wooden sword, which had been discarded by the unlit fireplace. “You sure you wanna fight the next best Crimson Patrol general?”

River scoffed. “Ha, yeah right. Papa will always be the best one.”

Autumn lunged.

Autumn had never considered play fighting with River ‘play’. It was training for her dream of joining the Crimson Patrol. The Crimson Patrol was a group of noble foxes who protected the clan’s territory from other clans. They were the ones who fought battles against badgers and wolves-the ones who kept them safe. Papa had once been part of it.

And he’d been just as great as every fox in their family before him.

Autumn swung her sword in a slow arc, and their wooden swords clashed. She went easy on her little brother, of course. But she could tell he was giving it his all, by the force of his bows.

Papa laughed heartily from his seat at the siblings battling, and Mama shook her head. “Be careful, you two,” she called.

Autumn ducked one of River’s blows, throwing Mama a quick glance. “We’re just playing, Mama. We’ll be fine-”

With Autumn distracted, River took the opportunity to whack his sister’s foot harder than necessary. Autumn yipped, and that was it. With one hard swipe, she knocked his sword from his paws and centered hers on his chest. He groaned and sat down roughly. “No fair! Papa, was that fair?”

Autumn rolled her eyes.

Papa smiled. “In war, just about everything is fair, River.”

“See?” Autumn teased.

River only huffed and crossed his arms. With the battle won, Autumn sat back down on the rug, scooping little Finch into her lap.

“How’d I do, Papa?” she asked brightly. “Good enough for the Crimson Patrol?”

Mama shifted in her seat and eyed Papa.

“Ah…you did fine.” Papa said reluctantly. “You’ll need a bit more than wooden swords, though.”

Autumn forced a smile, fighting the sinking feeling in her stomach. She hated when they passed secret glances to each other. “You could give me your old sword so I can really train,” Autumn said lightly, pretending not to have seen the glances.

“I don’t think so.” Papa frowned. “Real swords aren’t just for play, Autumn. They can truly hurt creatures. When you wield that sword, you may also hold some creature’s life or death in your paws.”

Autumn swallowed. I know that. Hopefully he doesn’t think I’d just play with it. Doesn’t he know I wanna follow in his footsteps and make our family proud? That I want to be the next fox in our family line to protect the clan?

“I know that, Papa,” she said slowly. “And I would never hurt anyone.”

Just the thought of blood made her stomach writhe.

Papa only smiled. “Well good. Then I think your training can be put off for a little while then, eh?”

Autumn sunk back. “I guess.” She pretended to agree. “But I still need my training, Papa. Only the best foxes get to join the Crimson Patrol and protect our clan. You know that.” Autumn gestured to his bad arm.

He’d injured it in a fight a few years ago with some rogue badgers. All that was left was a nub where his elbow should have been. His injury had been the reason he’d quit the Crimson Patrol. Even though he’d been angry about losing his position on the Crimson Patrol, it had given Papa the chance to fully embrace his role as the town elder. Autumn’s family, the Fenbrooks, had been the leaders of the clan since the Great Divide.

Autumn would’ve accepted the role of elder if it made Papa proud, but only males were allowed to lead the clan. River would take that role. Her next best option was to join the Crimson Patrol.

It was the only way to make Papa proud of her.

“I’m hoping you will let me enroll when I turn eighteen seasons.” Autumn continued despite the warning glances her parents were sending her, “That’s only three seasons from now and if I start training with you now-”

“Autumn, listen to your Papa,” Mama interrupted. “If he says you’re not ready, then you aren’t ready yet.”

Autumn frowned. First the secrecy, and now this? Was she not allowed to follow in Papa’s paw prints and join the Crimson Patrol either? The least they could do would be to tell her why, but they couldn’t even do that! What would it take to prove to them she could join the patrol?

Didn’t they want her to make them proud?

Maybe Papa was right. Maybe she wasn’t ready.

“Why don’t you read to us, my love?” Mama suggested, changing the subject. She gave Papa a pointed look.

Papa flipped open the creator’s book. The sound of turning pages filled the room before he finally found a page and
began to read. The passage was from the creator’s book, and it was a tradition they’d done since Autumn was a kit. Every night, Papa read a verse to them.

He cleared his throat.

 “But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of the Creator, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him.” He paused, glancing at Mama, who didn’t meet his gaze. “But let him ask in faith, without any doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave tossed by the sea, driven by the wind and tossed.”

He continued on through the verse, and Autumn couldn’t help but wonder if he’d chosen the verse on purpose. She wondered if he doubted something like the peace meeting-if he was feeling like a wave tossed by the sea.

Thud-thud-thud!

Startled from her reverie, Autumn’s eyes darted up the hallway. Papa’s voice died off, and Aunt Briar yipped before covering her snout with a paw. Silence hung in the air like a heavy fog through the forest.

After a moment, Mama spoke quietly, her voice surprisingly steady for how pale her face had gone. “Who is it, Barley?”

Papa shook his head slightly, but got up. “Kits, I think it’s time to go to bed.”

“What?” Autumn looked at him, wide-eyed. “But it’s so early, and who’s at the door? No one ever comes to the door, like, ever-”

“Just go to bed,” Papa snapped, his eyes turning dark.

Autumn froze.

Papa never snapped at them. She got up slowly, eyes trained on the ground. Emotion built up in her throat, but she forced it down. “Yes, Papa,” she managed to get out. She took Finch’s paw in hers and turned, leading her and River away.

Autumn didn’t look back.

She led Finch and River down a different tunnel on the other side of the room and to their bedroom. Finch and River shared a room, and Autumn shared a room with Aunt Briar. River and Finch’s room was small and dark, with no windows to let in moonlight. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and Autumn used the smell of their things to guide her movements.

She tucked Finch in, smoothing the soft quilt Mama had made her. She tried to keep the shaking of her paws steady. How could Papa have been so sharp with her?

“Autumn?” a little voice whispered.

She paused. “Yes, River?” she turned to look at him in the darkness. She could just barely make out his figure as he lay with his blankets up to his snout. “Are we safe? Who was at the door?”

Autumn shrugged. “I’m sure it’s just a friend of Papa’s or a town fox.” She wasn’t even convinced of her own words.

“But no one ever knocks on the door. No one ever visits us.”

Autumn swallowed, her mouth going dry. She often forgot how much he really noticed-just like her. The only difference was Autumn acted on her curiosity. River had learned to keep quiet.

She almost wondered which was better.

“I don’t know.” Autumn admitted after a moment. “But Papa is the elder of our clan, and he’s been on the Crimson Patrol since before any of us were born.” She forced a smile even though she knew he couldn’t see it.

“I’m sure we’re safe.”

Autumn slipped out of their room. Instead of returning to her own room like Papa had instructed, she followed the hallway as close as she could to the den living room. Soft dirt pressed against her back as she tried to keep herself tucked into the shadows of the tunnel. She couldn’t see them, but she could just make out soft voices.

“I don’t understand.” Papa was saying. “Why’d you risk coming here just to tell me to go to the meeting? Why must I go?”

Mama spoke up, her voice clearly distressed. “It’s not safe! You can’t ask him to go. There are creatures there that would claim war just because we joined the meeting.”

“It’s a peace meeting,” Aunt Briar adds, clearly trying to comfort Mama. “No one’s trying to start a war.”

A new voice speaks, and Autumn squeaked. She covered her snout with a paw but the creature kept talking. His voice was low and dark, like the rumble of a storm before it rained.

“The king wants it delayed.”

“But why?” Papa’s voice came. “Why delay it?”

The new voice let out a grunt of frustration. “If you want to keep your family safe, you’d better do what he says without question.” The voice is snarling by the end of the sentence. “He doesn’t want them combining armies. If war breaks out at the Great Tree, then no one will expect the attack.”

He finished, silence following. Finally, the creature added, “And he’s not ready yet. He’s trying to gather soldiers. They have to get over the mountains. We need to hold things off until winter-that’s when he’ll be ready.”

Papa’s voice came out quiet, almost too quiet for her ears to hear. “What about our clan? If war breaks out, I don’t want them caught in the middle of it.”

“That’s your problem.” The voice spat. “The king has given you his orders. I suggest you follow them.”

Rage flared up inside Autumn at the stranger’s voice. How dare that creature speak to her papa that way! Didn’t the creature know who he was talking to? Papa was the great Barley Fenbrook, leader of the fox clan and best soldier on the Crimson Patrol. What creature would dare disrespect him that way?

Now Autumn needed to see this creature.

Autumn slipped closer to the edge of the hallway, dangerously close to the warm glow of candles. She peeked her head around the edge to find Mama sitting rigidly in her chair, Aunt Briar standing near her side, one paw on her shoulder as if to steady her. Papa stood in the center of the room, his normally brave face too tired to try anymore.

The other creature, a fox with deep red fur the color of rusted blood, had his back to Autumn. He wore a dark cloak around his wide shoulders, and only one of his ears was painted black.

“Heed my advice, Barley.” The voice had turned soft. Then he turned and stalked towards the door. Autumn gritted her teeth, willing him to turn around. He began for the hallway but paused and turned to face the others one last time. Her heart leaped.

Yes!

Her excitement faded when she saw the tod’s face.

His face was knarred, and an ugly scar twisted up from between his eyebrows and through his eye. The eye with the scar was clouded over, but the other was an icy blue like the winter sky at dawn. Another claw mark cut across his snout, and one final one drew a small, jagged line through his eyebrow. A large sword was fastened to his belt, and clasped to his cloak was an emblem. A claw mark slicing through a sword.

Where had Autumn seen it before?

The fox’s eyes landed on her, and Autumn froze, the fur on the back of her neck standing on edge. He smiled slowly, but it looked more like an ugly grimace. Then he turned, his cloak bellowing out behind him like spilled ink. And then…

He was gone.

Down the hallway, moonlight flooded the tunnel, and the door flapped wildly in the wind, making the only noise in the room. Mama let out a breath she’d been holding and turned to face Papa.

Autumn sunk back down into the shadows, her heart pounding so loud she was afraid her parents would hear it. Who was that fox? Why’d he come here in the middle of the night?

And why was he threatening her family?

(All rights reserved. No part of this quotation may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Copyright © 2026 by Abigail Adams)