The vixen snorted as she held onto her little boy. The kit let out a sniffling, “Mama.”
“Yes, sugar fox?”
Kody was on the verge of crying, “Was my daddy th’devil?”
Slowly, Jo put her son down onto the pavement and knelt before him. One finger moved to gently wipe away a small tear that was forming. “Yer daddy was a lot a things, shoog, but he weren’t the devil.”
“But that bunny said,” the kit started to say, but his mother interrupted him, “That bunny don’t know what he’s talking about. He’s just old and confused is all.”
Her son sniffled, “Is he right? Is we red cause foxes were made by the devil, mama?”
Jo wrapped her arms around her son and pulled him in tight. “No, baby. We’re aren’t red because we were made by the devil. We’re red because we’re sweet like apples.”
“Really?”
Jo smiled warmly. It was a lie. Foxes had their own stories about why they were red, most of which revolved around fire, but that wasn’t going to help and only fueled those old beliefs that Hank and Otto Hopps shared. “Yes, sugar fox. Really,” she said as she kissed his cheek.

Art by  betsy
From a story by me