The Fox, by Nicola Sheeran
The fox pounded through the rough terrain, his breath coming in loud rasps.
He could hear his heart beating, and it sounded like drumbeats in his ears.
Faster, faster, his body had become a running machine.
In the distance his enemies were approaching – humans and their baying hounds.
The fox’s mouth was wide open, gasping, forcing more air into his lungs, his tongue hanging out.
The bugles sounded and the dogs howled.
The fox smelt them closing in.
His legs ached, his body was exhausted, and his brain told him there would be no escape.
But still he ran.
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