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[section=Story from FA]

Tod was drinking water from the stream. The cool water eased the dryness in his throat. The fox could still taste the tarty sweetness of the berries he had eaten earlier. He was alone. His muscles were sore from sleeping on the forest floor. He was used to sleeping in a cushioned blanket basket his former owner, Widow Tweed, made for him.

Tod stretched after he quenched his thirst. He looked up at the dark sky and knew it was going to rain soon. The fox turned to leave when a scent reached his nose. He froze. That musk was all too familiar: Copper.

His heart pounded as memories from two days ago surged. The screaming of the train, Chief’s whine as he was struck. Tod remembered seeing the look of pure rage on Copper’s face as he looked down high up on the train tracks. It was an accident. Copper didn’t care. He blamed him. Copper’s voice, raw with grief and rage, echoed in his mind: “Tod! If it’s the last thing I do… I’ll… I’ll get you for this!”

Tod’s instincts screamed at him to run. Every fiber of his being urged him to flee. But Tod was tired of running. Tod’s eyes narrowed as he looked around the terrain. His gaze landed on a ridge. It was a jagged rise of stone with a narrow ledge halfway up. It was perfect.

“I won’t run. Not this time,” Tod growled.

He sprinted toward the ridge. The fox’s claws scraped against rock as he climbed. Reaching the ledge, he crouched low and flattened his ears. His eyes burned with fury and defiance. He bared his fangs, raised his hackles, and let out a growl that echoed through the trees.

“I’ll fight you with everything I have. If you want revenge so bad, you’ll have to bleed for it.”

Copper moved like a shadow through the forest floor. His nose was low. The scent was fresh. Tod had passed through here not long ago. The hound’s eyes burned with purpose, but his mind was calm, focused. He believed Tod ran.

“Coward,” Copper muttered under his breath. “You can’t hide forever.”

The forest around him was quiet, save for the crunch of leaves beneath his paws. He didn’t notice the ridge above. Didn’t see the glint of Tod’s eyes watching his every move. As Copper passed beneath the ledge, the fox lunged.

With a snarl, Tod launched himself from the ridge, crashing into Copper’s side and knocking him off his feet. The hound yelped in surprise, rolling through the dirt. Before he could recover, Tod was on him. His jaws clamped around Copper’s neck, tasting the hound’s fur and blood on his tongue.

Copper yowled as he tried to escape Tod’s hold. Tod released him with a powerful shove that sent the hound skidding across the forest floor. Tod lowered his body and tensed his muscles. His hackles bristled and bared his fangs with a snarl. “I won’t run. Not this time,” Tod growled, voice trembling with fury. “If you want to kill me, you better be ready to bleed for it, bitch.”

Copper scrambled to his feet. His blood pounded in his ears. His eyes locked onto Tod’s, and his blood boiled. “Then let’s bleed,” the hound snarled.

There was a flash of lightning followed by a loud boom that echoed across the landscape. Rain began to heavily pour down. The forest appeared to weep for the friendship that died in this moment.

They circled each other, trying to find an opening to exploit. They felt the rain soak their fur and turn the dirt into mud beneath their paws.

Internally, Copper was shocked. Tod’s ambush caught him completely off guard. “You were supposed to flee. You always did. That was the pattern, the dance we repeated since we were pups: you ran and I chased,” Copper thought.  But this time, Tod didn’t run. He attacked. Copper still felt the sting of Tod’s bite on his neck. The pain was sharp. This wasn’t the Tod he remembered. This was a fighter. He stares at Tod, seeing not a frightened fox but a rival who’s finally drawn a line.

Copper is no longer chasing a memory or punishing a mistake. He’s facing an equal. At this moment, Copper was ready to fight. But his purpose has grown. He was not just trying to settle a score. “I’m stronger than you! I’m right! You have to pay for what you did!” Copper screamed in his mind.

Tod’s words swirled in his mind. If you want to kill me, you'd better be ready to bleed for it, bitch. It was a challenge, a provocation, and a declaration of war. “He doesn’t see me as a rival, but as something beneath him,” Copper thought angrily.

Tod’s muscles tensed as he readied himself for the inevitable clash. He remembered the basket Widow Tweed made for him, the warmth of her voice, and the safety of her home. That life was gone. It was ripped away from him. Replaced by cold nights, hard ground, and the constant threat of death. He was in hell. In front of him was his former best friend. The one who sent him to this hell.

“I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want this fight. But I won’t run anymore,” Tod thought to himself.

He saw Copper’s eyes. They were filled with rage, grief, and betrayal. Tod understood it. He felt it too. But Copper didn’t want understanding. He wanted punishment. “You think I’m the villain. That I meant for Chief to fall. You think I laughed when your world shattered. But I didn’t. I saw it happen. I saw your pain. Yet you blamed me. You knew it wasn’t my fault,” Tod thought angrily as he stared Copper down.

Tod’s claws dug into the mud. His body was tense, ready to spring again. But his mind was louder than his instincts. He looked at Copper and saw more than a hound. He saw a rival and a mirror. A creature shaped by loss and fury, just like him.

“You think I’m beneath you. Just a fox. Just prey for you to hunt and kill. But I’m not. I’m still here. I won’t let you erase me,” Tod thought defiantly.

Copper lunged, jaws wide, aiming for Tod’s throat. But the fox was faster. Tod narrowly dodged the bite and countered with ruthless precision. His jaws clamped down on Copper’s muzzle, forcing it shut. The hound growled in frustration, but Tod’s snarl was louder and fiercer.

With a savage jerk of his head, Tod raked his fangs across Copper’s face. The hound cried out as red, jagged lines bloomed across his snout. Tod didn’t hesitate. He followed up with a brutal swipe of his claws, slashing Copper’s cheek and cocking the hound’s head to the side.

But Copper was no stranger to pain. He recovered instantly, eyes blazing, and retaliated with a hard swipe across Tod’s face. The fox’s head snapped sideways, blood spewing from his lips as the force of the impact stunned him. Copper threw another savage blow that knocked Tod onto his back.

Dazed, Tod blinked up at the dark clouds above, stars dancing in his vision. His vision was blurry from the rain and the impact. But he saw Copper lunging again with teeth bared and claws outstretched. Tod reacted on instinct. He planted all four legs beneath Copper and used the hound’s own momentum against him, flipping him over with a powerful shove. Copper slammed into a tree with a sickening crack, bark splintering from the impact. The forest echoed with the sound.

Both animals rose slowly, legs trembling, breaths ragged. Tod spat blood from his mouth, eyes locked on Copper. “For a hound, I thought you’d hit harder than that,” Tod said. Copper’s lip curled, blood dripping from his wounds. “For a fox, I thought you’d run. But you didn’t. Unlike the others, you actually have guts. Let’s see if they spill,” Copper growled. Then, there was another flash of lightning followed by thunder. The second round between the former friends began.

Tod charged, his paws pounding against the forest floor, eyes locked on Copper. At the last second, he feinted right. He wanted to bait the hound into overcommitting. But Copper didn’t fall for it. Copper twisted and sank his teeth deep into Tod’s shoulder. With a snarl, he slammed the fox into the ground, pinning him with brute force. Tod cried out as Copper shook his head violently, digging his fangs deeper into muscle and fur. Pain screamed throughout Tod’s body. But he wasn’t done.

With a desperate snarl, Tod clawed at Copper’s shoulder. Copper snarled in fury and flung Tod onto his side, the fox landing hard with a thud. Copper lunged again, aiming for Tod’s exposed underbelly. But Tod kicked wildly, his hind legs striking Copper’s head with a sharp crack. The hound staggered.

Tod scrambled to his feet and lunged, sinking his teeth into Copper’s ear. Blood and fur filled his mouth as Copper yowled in pain. But Copper retaliated, biting down hard on Tod’s front leg, forcing a whimper from the fox’s throat.

They pushed against each other, snarling, growling, locked in a brutal dance of pain and fury. Their teeth dragged across each other’s flesh, leaving raw, bleeding trails. The forest echoed with their cries.

Finally, both staggered back, panting, bloodied, trembling. Tod’s leg throbbed. Copper’s ear hung torn. They lunged again. It became a blur of them landing random bites and scratches. Tod clawed at Copper’s sides as Copper bit Tod’s ear. Copper threw Tod to the ground and bit the base of the fox's tail. Tod cried out as he felt Copper’s teeth on his tail. Tod snarled and delivered a powerful kick to Copper’s chin. Copper pulled back dazed.

Tod and Copper faced each other again. Copper lunged, jaws aimed for Tod’s throat. But Tod ducked low, slipping beneath the bite, and countered with a savage clamp to the underside of Copper’s neck. The fox growled, muscles straining as he dragged the hound to the ground, mud and leaves scattering beneath them.

Copper snarled, eyes blazing, and roared with fury. “You think you’re stronger than me?! You think you can win?! I’ll break you!” Copper roared and threw himself on top of Tod, using his weight to crush the fox beneath him. Tod gasped, ribs straining under the pressure. Then Copper raised his front paws and raked his claws down Tod’s flanks, tearing fur and skin in jagged lines. At the same time, he clamped his jaws onto Tod’s back, biting deep. The hound tasted the fox’s fur and blood on his tongue as he pulled his head back with Tod’s skin clenched in his teeth.

Tod screamed. The pain was unbearable, but Copper didn’t stop. His mind was ablaze with fury.  The hound’s mind was filled with memories of Tod running away and Chief's fall.

“You put up a good fight, Tod,” Copper thought, eyes narrowed, breath hot. “Out of all the animals I’ve hunted, you were the biggest pain in the ass to kill. I hunted wolves. Torn apart coyotes. But not one of them fought like you. Let that be a comforting thought before I rip you apart.”

Tod’s body trembled beneath him, blood soaking into the wet earth. Copper had the upper hand. But the fight wasn’t over. Not yet. With a sudden burst of strength born from desperation and fury, Tod threw Copper off of him. The hound stumbled backward, surprised by the fox’s resilience. Tod rose, blood dripping from his wounds, eyes blazing. “I am stronger than you! I will win! You won’t break me!” Tod roared, voice echoing through the trees.

He lunged, tackling Copper hard onto his back. The hound was momentarily dazed, his breath knocked from his lungs. But Tod didn’t hesitate. He clamped his jaws around Copper’s hindpaw, biting down with savage force, tasting blood and mud. Copper howled in agony. Tod raked his claws down Copper’s leg, tearing through muscle and fur. “I have to slow him down! I have to cripple the bastard!” Tod thought, his mind burning with survival instinct as he dragged his claws down Copper’s leg again.

Copper yowled and lashed out, delivering a hard kick to Tod’s chest that sent the fox skidding across the forest floor. But the damage was done. Copper went to stand, but his leg trembled beneath him, blood soaking into the mud.

Both animals rose again, battered and bleeding, eyes locked in a stare that held no mercy. The forest was thick with tension, the air heavy with blood and breath. Tod and Copper stood facing each other, their bodies trembling from exhaustion and pain. But Tod’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “What’s wrong? I thought you came here to kill me,” Tod taunted, his tone sharp, bitter. “Surely it can’t be difficult for you to kill one little fox. One little fox who was your friend. A friend you betrayed and sent to hell,” Tod growled.

Copper’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. The words hit harder than any claw or bite. Memories surged in Copper’s mind. The laughter they once shared, the races through the woods, and the quiet moments when they were more than predator and prey. Tod’s voice twisted those memories into daggers.

Copper’s lip curled, rage and guilt battling behind his eyes. “You don’t know what hell is,” he growled, voice low and trembling. “You think I betrayed you? You think I wanted this?”

The forest was still, save for the ragged breaths of two bloodied souls locked in a war neither truly wanted. Tod’s body trembled from fury. His eyes burned, his voice cracked, and then the dam broke. “I don’t know what hell is?! You don’t think you’ve betrayed me?! You didn’t want this?! You liar!”

Copper flinched at Tod’s words. “You took away my home! You took away my family! I can never see my owner or the other farm animals again! Widow was my mother! She loved me like her child! I can never see her again! I can never see Abigail the cow again! I can never herd Henrietta and the other chickens again!” Tod’s voice rose, each word a dagger. “You ruined my life and took everything from me! Why?! Because I wanted to believe you were still my friend?! Because I wouldn’t give up on us?!”

Copper’s ears flattened. His jaw clenched. “Chief chased me, and I ran. I admit it. But when the train came, I tried to pin Chief down so we could duck under it! But he threw me off. Said he’d rather die than be saved by a fox!” Tod’s eyes shimmered with rage. “Chief fell, and you came rushing to see his broken body. You looked up and saw me! YOU BLAMED ME WHEN IT WASN’T MY FAULT!”

Copper’s breath hitched. “You chose to take everything from me! And now… now you want to take my life?! You chose this! You chose blood!” Tod stepped forward, chest heaving, voice trembling. “ALL OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”

Copper’s eyes narrowed, his breath ragged, blood dripping from his torn ear and neck. Tod’s words had cut deep. The rage in the fox’s voice, the raw pain behind every accusation, echoed in Copper’s mind like a howl in a canyon.

“Fuck you,” Tod growled, voice low and venomous.

Copper didn’t flinch. He stared at Tod, his own fury boiling beneath the surface. He stepped forward, his voice trembling with rage and wounded pride. “You think I wanted this?!” Copper snarled. “You think I wanted this?! You were my friend, Tod. I believed in you. I defended you. And when I saw Chief lying there, broken… I needed someone to blame. I needed something to hate.” Copper’s claws dug into the wet earth. “And you were there.”

He bared his teeth, the pain in his eyes now matching the fury in his stance. “So yeah. I chose blood. I chose this fight. Because if I didn’t… I’d have to admit that I lost more than a friend. I lost myself.” The silence between them was suffocating.

Then Copper lowered his head, hackles rising once more. “Let’s finish this,” Copper said coldly. “Gladly,” Tod snarled. They lunged.

Tod and Copper reared up on their hind legs, their bloodied bodies trembling with exhaustion and rage. Their front paws slammed into each other’s shoulders, claws digging into flesh, muscles straining as they grappled for dominance. The forest floor beneath them was slick with blood, mud, and torn leaves.

They snarled, jaws snapping inches from each other’s throats, eyes locked in a battle deeper than tooth and claw. Copper’s strength was brute, honed from years of hunting, his body heavier, and his grip crushing. Tod’s strength was desperate, agile, born from survival and fury. He twisted, trying to throw Copper off balance, but the hound held firm, pressing down with relentless force.

Their bodies swayed, locked in a savage dance. Tod’s claws raked down Copper’s chest, leaving fresh trails of red. Copper retaliated with a vicious shove, nearly toppling the fox. But Tod dug in, his hind legs bracing, his teeth bared in a snarl that echoed through the trees.

With a roar, Tod twisted his body and shoved hard, using Copper’s own weight against him. The hound’s wounded leg gave way, and with a sharp yelp, Copper toppled backward. Tod didn’t hesitate. He lunged, slamming Copper into the forest floor with savage force.

Leaves and mud exploded around them as Tod pinned Copper down. Tod flipped Copper onto his stomach with the hound’s back now facing towards Tod. Tod raised his front paws and raked his claws down Copper’s flanks, tearing through fur and flesh. Copper screamed, the pain sharp and searing. Tod flashed a predatory, toothy grin. He felt a twisted satisfaction at getting back at Copper for clawing him earlier. “How do you like it, bitch?!” Tod growled, voice dripping with venom.

Copper felt a mix of agony, humiliation, and fury. The pain was sharp. Tod’s claws, tearing through his flanks, mirror the wounds Copper had inflicted earlier on the fox. But it was not just the physical pain that stung. It was the reversal of power. Copper, the hunter, the avenger, was now pinned and mocked by the very fox he came to destroy.

His scream was guttural, raw. He thrashed beneath Tod, trying to break free, but his injured leg weakened him. The insult bitch burned in his ears. It was more than a taunt. It was a declaration that Tod wasn’t afraid anymore. That Tod was willing to hurt him, humiliate him, and fight back with everything he had. Copper’s pride was shattered at this moment.

Tod placed a paw on Copper’s head and shoved it into the mud, grinding it down with force. Tod's claws dug into Copper’s scalp as the hound growled. “You want to know something that’s weirdly fucked up?” Tod said, breath hitching. “That night when I went to see you, I didn’t want to continue our friendship. I wanted us to be something more.” Copper’s eyes widened beneath the weight of Tod’s paw. “When you left for your hunting trip, I realized I fell in love with you. After you came back, I went to you that night to tell you how I felt. I wanted to give us a chance.”

Tod’s voice cracked, the fury mixing with heartbreak. “But now, after everything, I hate you! I hate you so god damn much for what you did! But I still love you. It’s fucked, isn’t it? The one person I hate most, that I love most… is you.” Copper blinked up at Tod, surprised by his words.

Tod’s mind began to wander as he fantasized about how his reunion with Copper should’ve gone. The hound should’ve welcomed him openly. Tod would’ve confessed. They could’ve been together. They could’ve made love. Tod felt his penis harden as he looked at Copper’s back. “You’ve fucked me over, Copper. It’s only fair, I get a turn,” he growled. Tod pulled Copper’s hindquarters up and then mounted on top of Copper.

“What are you doing?!” Copper yelled as he looked over his shoulder. “Evening the score,” Tod growled as he rubbed his penis against Copper’s rear. Copper thrashed and tried to wiggle out of Tod’s grip. But the fox held firm. Eventually, Tod thrust his penis hard into Copper’s tailhole.

Copper let out a guttural scream as he felt himself being penetrated. The hound felt Tod’s balls against his. The fox’s knot kissed against his ring. Copper clawed at the ground and thrashed violently. “You ruined my life! You took everything from me! You fucked me over! Now you get to know what it feels like to be fucked by someone you trusted! Someone you loved!” Tod growled.

With a snarl, Tod sank his teeth into Copper’s back. The fox pulled his head back with the hound's skin clenched in his teeth.

Copper yowled, the sound echoing through the trees like a wounded howl. Copper’s claws scraped the mud, his muscles straining, but Tod’s grip didn’t falter. The pain was sharp, but it was the humiliation that