A full moon hung over the mountainside, accompanied by uncountable, twinkling stars. It was a beautiful sight, with soft and gentle light that left plenty of shadows to most eyes. But to one, red pair, the night was as bright as the noonday sun.
These eyes belonged to Moebius, who crept from a small cave in the mountainside and crawled his way over the ground. He was wearing his skull mask and his long robes, as he usually did... but he was not bothering to disguise his true size and form. Arms and legs longer then a cottage was wide grasped at dirt and rock as grasping fingers and toes clutched at handholds and roots and branches. Moebius, who claimed royal titles and great power, moved more like an ape than a human being. An ape mixed with some sort of spider or other scuttling thing.
Moebius traced his way down a game trail, where he remembered leaving a set of snares. It was a little path, just the tiniest of disturbances through the grass. The sort left by rabbits as they travelled to and from their dens. He had left many such snares down several such trails. Even if only a few had caught something, Moebius would have a full belly before the morning came. Then, perhaps, he could move on. Head further north where he could find other mages and steal their secrets and spells for himself, perhaps take a tower or a laboratory to study and further his knowledge...
His train of thought was interrupted by the sight of some white-furred thing, glowing bright in the moonlight, situated exactly where he'd left one of his snares. Quickly, and without any subtlety or quiet, Moebius scrambled over to his trapped prey. The snapping of twigs and branches and the tumbling of rocks heralded his arrival, as he came upon... a fox.
A breathing fox.
Moebius crouched, assuming his usual, hunched position that required him to shuffle instead of walk. A finger poked the fox, trailing through the stark, white fur.
"Foolish little fox. Were you trying to rob me of my rabbits? Did you perhaps get lost in the chase, and forget to see the world around you until it was too late? Alas, I shall never know, for you are a fox and your kind do not talk to me even when you are dead. Still, I wonder... how is it that your neck was not snapped by the branch and wire?"
Moebius had no expectation that the white fox would, or even could, speak to him as he reached within his robes... and pulled forth a gleaming dagger made from polished stone.
"No matter, I shall study your neck's construction after I take your pelt. It will make a fine addition to my royal ensemble!"
