Across the river, something might exist—a better shore, perhaps.
But the fox had never swum.
The water moved darkly between the banks, and a sheet of mist hid whatever waited beyond it.
If he knew paradise was there, he would leap without hesitation.
But the mist refused to answer.
And the ground beneath him was not empty.
Given time, he could make a life here.
Yet the unseen shore would not leave his mind.