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Description
There are many old stories that have been passed along among foxes since before any fox‘s most distant ancestors could possibly recall. In fact, many foxes believe that these stories always existed, much like the world itself. As they are passed along, they often become distorted, altered by the personality of each fox whose mind they use as an agent of their dissemination. However, it is remarkable that, though the details of each legend may be altered, the underlying themes remain intact no matter how many times a tale may have been recounted. Perhaps it is because, given their more individualistic nature, the foxes have always tended toward more intimate fables, where emotional themes are paramount, as opposed to the epics of the wolves and the lewd and rowdy tales of the coyotes, both of which are much more reliant on specific details. Some of these stories are meant to impart moral advice, and others merely offer practical assistance. Yet many seem to exist for no other reason than to evoke emotional responses from their audience, a trait unique to fox-lore.

The following story, (which has been paraphrased, in order to serve simply as a reference for the reader) however does carry a moral message, warning against moments of cold-heartedness and greed.

A mated vixen and tod once lived together far in the northern reaches of the wild, ages upon ages ago. Both were good foxes, and lived as foxes should. However, the vixen was sometimes seized by fits of greed and selfishness, as many foxes are, and during these, she lost all her pity and compassion. During one particularly intense blizzard, she forced her mate from their earth, as she was indisposed to share her meal with him. When she emerged the next day, she found him dead, frozen by the vicious winds of the previous night. Realizing what she had done, she wailed to the sky in grief and regret. The winter wind heard her lament , and carried it beyond the borders of the world foxes knew and back again, to be heard whenever the icy gales shear through the air.

...

Yeah. Musing on the mythos of my fox-story. I just can't escape from all this mawkish nonsense. Gah.

As for the actual picture, I tried some of these odd watercolour pencils to 'aint' this, where you pencil in the colours and then spread them using a wet paint brush. Not really keen on how it turned out frankly. I think it needs to be on a larger scale to look good.

Description
There are many old stories that have been passed along among foxes since before any fox‘s most distant ancestors could possibly recall. In fact, many foxes believe that these stories always existed, much like the world itself. As they are passed along, they often become distorted, altered by the personality of each fox whose mind they use as an agent of their dissemination. However, it is remarkable that, though the details of each legend may be altered, the underlying themes remain intact no matter how many times a tale may have been recounted. Perhaps it is because, given their more individualistic nature, the foxes have always tended toward more intimate fables, where emotional themes are paramount, as opposed to the epics of the wolves and the lewd and rowdy tales of the coyotes, both of which are much more reliant on specific details. Some of these stories are meant to impart moral advice, and others merely offer practical assistance. Yet many seem to exist for no other reason than to evoke emotional responses from their audience, a trait unique to fox-lore.

The following story, (which has been paraphrased, in order to serve simply as a reference for the reader) however does carry a moral message, warning against moments of cold-heartedness and greed.

A mated vixen and tod once lived together far in the northern reaches of the wild, ages upon ages ago. Both were good foxes, and lived as foxes should. However, the vixen was sometimes seized by fits of greed and selfishness, as many foxes are, and during these, she lost all her pity and compassion. During one particularly intense blizzard, she forced her mate from their earth, as she was indisposed to share her meal with him. When she emerged the next day, she found him dead, frozen by the vicious winds of the previous night. Realizing what she had done, she wailed to the sky in grief and regret. The winter wind heard her lament , and carried it beyond the borders of the world foxes knew and back again, to be heard whenever the icy gales shear through the air.

...

Yeah. Musing on the mythos of my fox-story. I just can't escape from all this mawkish nonsense. Gah.

As for the actual picture, I tried some of these odd watercolour pencils to 'aint' this, where you pencil in the colours and then spread them using a wet paint brush. Not really keen on how it turned out frankly. I think it needs to be on a larger scale to look good.