Bleeding Lotus

Chapter 2

My pink eyes slowly flutter open beneath a curtain of long white lashes, the fading remnants of sleep clinging heavily to my mind. It has been centuries since I last dreamed of the final moments of my human life, yet the memories still return on occasion like ghosts refusing to disappear. The fragmented pieces of my former existence feel distant and unfamiliar now, as though they belonged to another soul entirely instead of me. Time has worn those memories thin, leaving behind only faint echoes of pain and fear that no longer feel human.

Rubbing the lingering haze from my eyes, I gradually see my surroundings sharpen into focus instead of the blurry shapes distorted by exhaustion. A tired yawn slips past my lips as I sit up from my makeshift bed crafted from brittle leaves and dried grass spread across the cold stone floor of the cave. The frigid ground beneath me still holds the chill of the night, and the earthy scent of damp moss, old stone, and thick animal fur fills the air. Weak rays of morning sunlight seep through the cracks high above, casting dim golden streaks across the shadowy cavern walls.

Scanning the large cave carefully, my gaze moves over the many red-orange furry bodies curled together in slumber across the musty den. Soft breaths and occasional sleepy twitches fill the silence as tails flick lazily in dreams. Every single morning, the moment I wake up, I count each one of my dear fox brethren to ensure they are all still here with me, completely unharmed. It has become an instinct etched deep into my soul after centuries of protecting them.

One... Two... Three...

Relief loosens the tight knot in my chest once I confirm that all twenty-six foxes are present and safe. A soft sigh escapes me, warm against the chilly cave air.

Unsurprisingly, one of the youngest kits is already wide awake. The tiny fox carefully paces back and forth between the sleeping bodies, his paws that are too big for his tiny body move with exaggerated caution as he tries not to step on anyone. Though he clearly attempts to remain silent, the occasional scrape of his claws against stone betrays him. A small smile tugs at my lips at the adorable sight of the energetic early riser, but concern soon follows. At his age, curiosity outweighs caution, and it would only take a single moment for him to wander too far from the den and get injured.

Soon, I will have to wake the entire pack.

Stretching my arms above my head, a quiet moan slips from my throat at the refreshing pull of sore muscles finally loosening. Yesterday had been exhausting. Two reckless kits managed to slip away from my watchful eyes while exploring the forest outskirts, only to stumble directly into the territory of an enraged group of bears. Fighting an entire pack of bears without killing any of them had been both difficult and draining. My body still aches from every bruise and strained muscle earned during the confrontation.

With how fearless and carefree the kits can be, they may very well become the reason my second life eventually ends. But that is perfectly fine with me. My life was no longer my own the moment I was granted another chance. It exists solely to protect foxes, just as my savior commanded long ago.

Flexing my fingers absentmindedly, I watch as sharp ivory claws extend smoothly from my fingertips before retracting once more. Realizing it has been quite some time since I properly brushed my hair, I extend my claws and run my fingers carefully through the tangled waist-length snow-white strands. The silky hair slips easily between my clawed fingers as I work through the stubborn tangles, restoring its soft shine little by little. Suddenly, I flinch when one of my claws accidentally nicks the sensitive edge of one of my white fox ears.

A small frown settles across my porcelain face. The day has not even truly begun, and I have already managed to injure myself. Knowing the thick white fur coating all nine of my tails has become hopelessly ruffled from tossing in my sleep, I slowly drag my claws through the silky strands to smooth them back into place. The fur gleams faintly under the dim light entering the cave like fresh snow under moonlight. Extra caution is required; one careless movement could easily slice through the skin of the delicate tails.

As the leader of such a large fox pack, my appearance must always remain flawless even though I tend to let my hair be messy. Predators, especially humans, are naturally drawn toward strength, beauty, and power. If dangerous creatures lurk nearby, then their attention must fall upon me instead of the much weaker foxes under my protection. My role is to stand at the front of every threat, no matter the danger or sacrifice required. It is my duty to protect these precious creatures with my life.

The earthy scent of moss and stone still clings heavily to the cavern walls as I quietly shift into my fox form. Unlike ordinary foxes, my fur is impossibly white, resembling freshly fallen snow untouched by dirt or blood. My body is far larger than any normal fox-nearly twice their size-with long elegant limbs, nine thick tails, and glowing pink eyes that seem unnatural. Even among supernatural creatures, my appearance is strikingly one of a kind.