The sound of hooves clattered through the sparse woods, bluring together into a constant beating against the ground. A flash of red through the trees was followed moments later by hounds, men on horses immediately after. They carried on through the woods, stopping when the hounds stopped to sniff the air. There were nine men, on nine horses, with three hounds. Each hound was sniffing the air, searching out their prey, and the men were looking about them.

A few twigs broke behind the horses, but only one of the men heard it. He twisted in his saddle to see the fox creaping quietly through the trees. The man, the youngest there, winked at the creature, though it would hardly understand the meaning, and, pointing in the opposite direction, shouted,"Quick, look, over there! There's the fox." The men all spurred their horses through the trees, in the direction in which the youngest member of the hunting party had pointed, while the fox dashed away in the other direction.

Eventually, when there was surely no sign of the fox, the hunting party stopped and the young man caught up. He was breathing heavily and his hair had fallen into his face; he'd been riding at quite a pace. "The fox must have fled," he panted, "we should go back, it's late."

"It's not late yet. We'll find that fox before night." replied one of the other men. The young man shifted in his saddle slightly, then said, "I worry about my father. He's not getting any better, I'd prefer to go back and check on him."

Many of the other men in the party laughed, and one even clapped him on the shoulder. "Kid, your father has been running this place for almost fifty years now, I doubt he likes any of us enough to go and die. If he were this easy to kill, this'd be a free country." The young man glared at the man who'd spoken, and turned his horse away. Three of the men followed after him, the other five staying behind in the woods. The largest of the men who'd followed the young man, a broad, well built man not much older than the other, brought his horse up along the other's. "Nothing will've happened to him. Not even a giant, unicorn propelled meteorite could kill him." he told the young man, who'd been staring at his hands, brooding.

After a brief pause, the young man shook his head and continued along. "How do you always mannage to distract him like that?" asked one of the other men.

"Simple. You see that shiny thing over there?" he replied. The other man immediately started looking around him for the 'shiny thing'. "You see?" the large man called back to the third man, who was a little further back, "simple." The rest of the journy back out of the woods went by in relative quiet and uneventfulness, until eventually they came out of the trees and onto a large, open, green lawn.