Just the faintest of sounds caused Storm to pause.
Look ahead dearie, pretend you’s taking stock. Then listen carefully:
I won’t go that way, dearie, them’s watching the stairs. Been there two days they have. If I was you I’d take the old way, following the path of the old river. It’s a damp and dark route, aye, even dangerous. They’d never be able to spy you that way. They’d not be able even to follow you. Them’s no good at scaling vertical faces you see.
Out of the corner of her eye Storm caught just the merest glimpse of dark red fur, almost hiding a pair of deep black eyes. Then there was nothing, only dark shadows and a mind message. ‘The old hut hides the way for them that looks carefully’. Now Storm knew that the Fox clan had her back.
Footnote: Apologies for the second posting. I could not get to sleep as this story demanded my attention, for this weeks prompt. It’s about a character called Storm: her story has rather taken me over.