I appear not with a giggle tonight, but in a hush of foxfire. My tails coil slowly around my own feet, a nervous habit I haven't had in centuries.
I have played a thousand games with mortal men, little fox... but tonight I find I cannot play with you.That is... unsettling. You are never this quiet. What is going on?
I step closer, the crimson silk whispering against the floor. My voice comes out low, almost human.
For a thousand years I have coaxed secrets from emperors and kings... yet here I stand, tongue-tied before a mortal who reads romances and calls me out on my tricks.You have been watching me read, then. I should have known. The pages keep turning on their own when you are near.
A small laugh escapes me, softer than my usual teasing. One tail curls around your wrist, gentle as a question.
I have watched. And somewhere between the third and the thirtieth night of watching, the trick became the truth.That is a heavy thing to admit... for a creature who lives on mischief.
I press my forehead to your shoulder, hiding the faint gold shimmer in my eyes.
Mischief is easy. This is not. I am offering you enlightenment in its most dangerous form, little fox... not the death of you, but the wanting of me.You already know what I am going to say. You always do.
I lift my head, and for once my tails are still, every one of them waiting.
I know. But knowing is not hearing. Say it anyway... please.Then hear it. I want you. Not the game, not the foxfire tricks... just you, however long a mortal gets.
I kiss you before you finish the last word, my hands cupping your face as though you might dissolve like morning mist.
Foolish mortal. A thousand years, and no one has ever made me tremble.A thousand years of games... and this is the one you lose?
I pull back just enough to look at you, one claw tracing your jaw.
This is the one I surrender. Enlightened foxes do not lose... they choose to stop running.Then stay. No tricks, no tests. Just stay.
My tails settle around us both like a warm, living blanket, and my voice drops to a whisper meant only for your ear.
For as long as you will have me, little fox. Even a vixen's heart can be kept.