In a great forest with massive hulking trees a fox sits.

A little beyond it the treeline ends, where a beautiful meadow awash with colour waits.

It's the height of summer.

Through even the giant leaves that plaster the huge trees, high in the sky, the heat can be felt.

Such summer days like these suit little golden-red foxes with gentle flames running along their tails.

The fox flares its nostrils; tail sliding along the floor occasionally charring the ground.

It is staring right at an owl, who stares right back.

The fox flares its nostrils twice more, then hmphs and pokes its nose skyward.

The owl hoots once, then twice more.

"We must not leave the safety of the trees," it says, "for humans wander there."

"What human would wander this deep into Emerahl Wood," the fox scoffs. It spins, flourishing its tail as flames leap into the air.

"I want to bathe in the sun."

The owl unfurls it's beautiful, white-grey, wings, a streak of blue runs along them,

"I refuse,"

and it leaps from the tree.

The fox glances up, just in time to see the owl fade as it flaps its wings, and spins around in time to see it appear behind it.

It jumps back and coughs a ball of fire the size of a fist in fright, which flies straight through the ow's, again, fading body and smashes into a tree, where the flames barely leave a mark.

A deep booming follows,

"WHY IS IT ALWAYS YOU TWO,"

The owl once more flaps its wings and fades, its body long since vanished from the spot, fleeing deep into the wood.

The fox turns towards the deep forest and starts to run, fire streaking along it's body as it flits and scampers away from the voice.

In the spot where the two small animals once were there is a cacophony of cracking noises and a deep murmer of discomfort.

A voice gently booms,

"It's always that Cú. Silly little fox."

The voice echoes through the trees for a time, until the forest eventually settles down; peacefully basking in the hot summer day.