The journeying Foxes had lost all sense of time. Had they been traveling for weeks or months or even longer? 

Still, they kept moving onwards.  

They had known the trek would be arduous, but it was so dry.  

Where had all the water gone?

Were the lands to the North and the East always like this? 

Or was the parched landscape of tied in with the UnFox and the disappearance of the Grand Hannibal and all the other difficulties they’d already faced and ran from and feared?

In the midst of all this, Laguna Lacuna, was with child for the first time. The skulk was abuzz with excitement, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the new cubs. Surely new life was a good omen, even if it made the journey slower and more difficult for all of them.

The mighty Corpus Colossi mountain range grew closer with each day’s travel, going from specks on the horizon to jagged, looming monstrosities that were all their eyes could see. The mountains supposedly marked the half-way mark of the skulk’s travel, but the Foxes were quite literally in uncharted territory and had long ago accepted they knew far less about their world than they had ever imagined.

There was an unfamiliar stillness that clung to the air as Laguna's time drew nearer. The vibrancy that once bubbled within her had subsided, replaced by the impending weight of motherhood. Each flicker of discomfort that flashed across her face was a harsh reminder that the current ordeal was nothing in comparison to the impending ordeal that lurked just around the corner. 

As the final days of her term stretched into weeks, her distress magnified. The once vibrant anticipation had soured into a cloak of unease and trepidation, casting an ominous pall over the skulk.

Finally, as the skulk approached the foothills of the great metallic mountain that dominated all the others, Chrome Peak, Laguna Lacuna admitted she could go no further.  The journey would have to wait

The day of birthing had arrived, unleashing a torrent of pain and fear as the reflections from the metallic mountaintop cast rainbows in all directions across everything the foxes could see.  

Laguna, known for her formidable resilience, was confronted with a terror unlike any other. One by one, she brought forth her cubs, their transient lives a bitter reminder of nature's cruel whims. She wrestled with exhaustion, endured the blinding pain, all her focus directed at the survival of her young.

From the numerous heartbeats that had once echoed within her, only one rhythm had carried through the ordeal of birth—a single, relentless pulse that promised life amidst the shadows of loss.

The cub was a girl, her delicate fur sharded with Laguna's own emerald hue. She had named her REPL, a word that in their ancient tongue meant hope. But beneath the naming ceremony's jubilation, a quiet sorrow resonated—a lament for the other lives that could have been.

Laguna's heart ached with every quiet sigh REPL released, each tiny yawn, and the heartrending vulnerability in her infantile attempts to explore her surroundings. It was a potent concoction of love and pain, two sides of the same coin, each a sharp reminder of what she'd gained and what she'd lost.

In REPL, Laguna found a purpose to keep her grounded amidst her heartache. The cub became her sole focus, the epicenter of her existence. She spent her days tending to REPL's needs, her nights keeping vigil over her sleep. Every mewl from the cub was answered, every sign of discomfort addressed.

But this fierce maternal love left her depleted, her once vibrant eyes dulled with exhaustion, her strength ebbing with each passing day. Laguna, the mother, the leader, had become a sacrificial offering on the altar of survival. And yet, she pressed on, for in her heart, she knew that her own well-being was a small price to pay for REPL's future.

However, as REPL flourished, the world around them withered. When they had first arrived by the mountains, the waters of a nearby lake had still danced with the dancing rainbow lights of the sun's reflection off Chrome Peak. Those waters that had been such a welcome oasis for the parched travelers were now vanishing, surrendering to the parched earth.

What was left behind was a void, a lifeless crater where until recently, life thrived in abundance. Laguna bore witness to this relentless transformation, as Terra Vulpa's lifeblood disappeared, turning the lush landscapes into a desolate wasteland. 

The drought, unyielding, unmerciful, left no room for hope, imposing a haunting stillness that lingered like a spectre over the land.

This was no longer a simple battle for survival. With each passing day, with each inch of receding water, the possibility of extinction cast an increasingly longer shadow over the skulk. 

Laguna could see it in the desperate eyes of her kin, could feel it in the unspoken dread that hung in the air, and could hear it in the hushed whispers of her fellow travelers. 

Their world was at the brink, their existence hanging by a thread, all while she watched from the sidelines, nursing her single cub, in a cave that echoed with the silence of those not born.

Yet, Laguna refused to yield. 

She continued to give all of herself to REPL, even as her own personal vitality dwindled. She was so consumed by her love for REPL that she neglected her own needs, her survival instincts overridden by the potent pull of maternal love. 

Three silhouettes edged their way towards Laguna's den, their bodies hunched against the biting wind that whipped across the dry landscape. It was the council - Negative Entity, Photic Sneezer, and Orpheus Turns - known for their wisdom and guidance within the Jesters.

Their arrival usually signaled a time for problem-solving and decision-making, but their stooped postures and wary glances revealed a pressing concern that went beyond the ordinary.

Negative Entity, her tawny fur patchy and dull, led the procession. Once an optimistic and brave member of the skulk, was clearly weathered prematurely by the current stress. Following close behind was Photic Sneezer, whose distinctive sneezes, once a source of amusement, now barely registered amongst the gloom. Lastly, Orpheus Turns trailed behind them, his once striking figure now marred by lean muscle and sunken eyes, a testament to the skulk's desperation.

They stood at the entrance of Laguna's den, a mere whisper of their former selves. The council members exchanged glances before Negative Entity stepped forward, her voice carrying the weight of their collective worries. "Laguna," she began, her voice ragged as the parched earth. "The lake...it's worsening. We need to..."

But her voice trailed off as Laguna's gaze, instead of meeting theirs, was riveted onto her cub. REPL slept peacefully by her side, oblivious to the tense atmosphere. Laguna's eyes softened, a stark contrast to the hardened expressions of the council members. The world beyond her child seemed to blur into insignificance, as if REPL was the anchor keeping her grounded amidst the chaos.

"Laguna, we must discuss...," Orpheus Turns tried again.

Laguna’s gaze never wavering from REPL, never acknowledged her trusted peers, and the council slowly leaked back the way they had come.

—

That night, wracked with pain, Laguna retreated to the back of her cave and curled in on herself around REPL. The last moisture she had, she fed to her child, and closed her eyes.

The mist of sleep descended upon Laguna's mind and her consciousness began to ebb and flow. The wearied eyes of the council, the untouched innocence of her cub's gaze, her own dull eyes staring at her in the silt-laden water - all swirled within the river of her consciousness, each leaving its distinct ripple.

In the twilight of awareness, a small act of self-care rose like a bubble from the riverbed of her being. With her free paw, she found a speck of dampness. She tenderly coated her parched, desolate snout. It was a simple act, a drop in a dry riverbed, but it offered a soothing reprieve from the harsh dryness. The smallest tributary beginning to flow, as sleep claimed the landscape of her consciousness.

In this domain of dreams and softened thoughts, as Laguna lay curled protectively around her cub, a subtle shift began to ripple through their world. Unseen, unfelt by the slumbering skulk. At first, a tremor, but then a strange, powerful energy coursing around her body. Without hesitation, Laguna slipped away from her child and followed the pull of the earth. She found herself drawn to a crack in the ground, where she placed her paw. 

In that moment, she felt a surge of power unlike anything she had ever known. Her vision blurred, and she felt as though she was falling into an endless void. When she opened her eyes again, the mountains around her had become towering spires, and the sky and water that had already been a rainbow of colors became a swirling kaleidoscope of colours and patterns that shifted and changed with every passing moment.

Laguna looked down at her own body and saw herself part fox, part mountain, part river. Her fur was the colour of stone, and her eyes shone with a bright, otherworldly light. She cupped the lake in her hand, drank deeply, and then started to pour the liquid into the valley below.

A jarring sensation yanked Laguna back to the physical plane. Her eyes flickered open to the sight of her own paw ensnared by the stubborn earth. Her attempt to retract was met with firm resistance.

Fear, a rare and unexpected intruder, slithered into her heart. Her fur bristled, and her eyes widened as the realisation of her predicament took hold. The sharp edges of the rocks against her skin reminded her of the limits of her mortal form.

A primal urge to fight back flared in her, prompting her to yank her paw with more force. But the earth held fast, indifferent to her struggle. Her struggles only magnified the dull pain radiating up her leg. Her breaths became ragged, uneven, mirroring her chaotic thoughts.

And then, like a hidden spring surfacing amidst a barren landscape, a glimmer of her recent calm seeped into her consciousness. It murmured against her panic, coaxing her to reach for the harmony that had so recently flowed through her.

So, Laguna paused. She closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm of her breath - in, out, in, out. She felt the rapid pulsating in her paw slowly receding, the harsh edges of her fear blurring, mellowing into a bearable hum.

Inhaling deeply, she reached down and, with a deliberate slowness, pulled. The ground seemed to sigh, finally releasing its grip. Her paw slid free, leaving her both relieved and drained.

Turning, her gaze fell on REPL, peaceful and oblivious. She dragged herself over, curling her body around her cub, her ragged breaths gradually syncing with the gentle rhythm of REPL's.

As dawn washed over the earth, Laguna stirred from her sheltered retreat, her weary eyes drawn to the sight below. The valley, once a vibrant tapestry of life and colour, now lay parched and barren, a stark symbol of their grim reality. The once thriving flora was reduced to brittle skeletons, and what had been an azure lake was now just a dry, cracked memory.

Carefully, Laguna hoisted REPL onto her back, ensuring the cub was securely strapped in. REPL, nestled snugly against her mother's warmth, looked out with wide eyes at the desolate vista.

Resolved, Laguna began her arduous trek up the highest peak known to Terra Vulpa. She marched along the dry, stony lakebed, her steps echoing in the eerie silence.

Boulders, smooth and weathered by the water, now stood out like obstacles along her path. Her pads, though toughened by years of living in the wild, were raw against the harsh, rough surface. But Laguna pressed on, her focus sharpened by the survival instinct within her.

She pushed through the arid lowlands, slowly ascending towards the high places where the last vestiges of greenery clung stubbornly to life. Her senses, attuned to every shift in the wind, every rustle in the sparse foliage, painted a picture of her changing environment. The air here was thinner, the wind cooler against her emerald fur. With every upward stride, Laguna could feel the world changing around her, and within her…

The path under Laguna's paws softened as the rocky incline levelled out onto a plateau dotted with stubborn, weather-beaten vegetation. REPL slid from her back, the cub's eyes wide with an unspoken curiosity that Laguna couldn't help but share. She doubted any creature had ever been this high, this close to the metallic rainbow mountaintop still hundreds of yards above her. Something pulled her attention away from the peak, drawing her gaze to the cracked earth beneath them - an instinct, perhaps, or a whisper of a memory.

Carefully setting REPL aside, she pressed her hand into the hard soil. Closing her eyes, she sought communion. She felt the parched crust yield under her persistent touch.

Gritting her teeth, she dug deeper, clawing through layers of dead, dehydrated soil. Until her claws scraped against something unexpected - moisture. A cool, wet reprieve hiding beneath the desolation.

Scooping the precious liquid, she drank with an urgent gratitude, then turned to REPL, who mimicked her actions. There was no celebration, only the quiet understanding of survival.

Emboldened, Laguna continued to dig, deeper, wider. The hidden water source seeping upward until it pooled around her. A single, low cry slipped from her, echoing across the deserted landscape.

Alone and then in ragged groups, the skulk emerged, dragging themselves up the mountain side from the shadowed corners of the drought-stricken terrain. Some had walked a harder path, their bodies a testament to the relentless grip of the drought. Their ribs protruded beneath their dull coats, eyes sunken but alight with a spark at the sight of water. Those too weak or injured to dig sat at the edge of the assembly, their hopeful gazes fixated on the scene unfolding.

And yet, not every voice was accounted for in the chorus that echoed Laguna's call. Some, like the distinctive sneeze that once punctuated the gloom with mirth, had faded into an unspoken absence, haunting the edges of the tribe's collective memory.

Those strong enough joined her in the labor, paws digging alongside hers, until a slender stream of water began to wind its way down the craggy mountainside, whispering of the life it once knew, and the life it promised to bring back. The stream wound down the parched riverbed, a silver vein of hope making its way to the famished lake below.

The journeying Foxes had lost all sense of time. Had they been traveling for weeks or months or even longer? 

Still, they kept moving onwards.  

They had known the trek would be arduous, but it was so dry.  

Where had all the water gone?

Were the lands to the North and the East always like this? 

Or was the parched landscape of tied in with the UnFox and the disappearance of the Grand Hannibal and all the other difficulties they’d already faced and ran from and feared?

In the midst of all this, Laguna Lacuna, was with child for the first time. The skulk was abuzz with excitement, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the new cubs. Surely new life was a good omen, even if it made the journey slower and more difficult for all of them.

The mighty Corpus Colossi mountain range grew closer with each day’s travel, going from specks on the horizon to jagged, looming monstrosities that were all their eyes could see. The mountains supposedly marked the half-way mark of the skulk’s travel, but the Foxes were quite literally in uncharted territory and had long ago accepted they knew far less about their world than they had ever imagined.

There was an unfamiliar stillness that clung to the air as Laguna's time drew nearer. The vibrancy that once bubbled within her had subsided, replaced by the impending weight of motherhood. Each flicker of discomfort that flashed across her face was a harsh reminder that the current ordeal was nothing in comparison to the impending ordeal that lurked just around the corner. 

As the final days of her term stretched into weeks, her distress magnified. The once vibrant anticipation had soured into a cloak of unease and trepidation, casting an ominous pall over the skulk.

Finally, as the skulk approached the foothills of the great metallic mountain that dominated all the others, Chrome Peak, Laguna Lacuna admitted she could go no further.  The journey would have to wait

The day of birthing had arrived, unleashing a torrent of pain and fear as the reflections from the metallic mountaintop cast rainbows in all directions across everything the foxes could see.  

Laguna, known for her formidable resilience, was confronted with a terror unlike any other. One by one, she brought forth her cubs, their transient lives a bitter reminder of nature's cruel whims. She wrestled with exhaustion, endured the blinding pain, all her focus directed at the survival of her young.

From the numerous heartbeats that had once echoed within her, only one rhythm had carried through the ordeal of birth—a single, relentless pulse that promised life amidst the shadows of loss.

The cub was a girl, her delicate fur sharded with Laguna's own emerald hue. She had named her REPL, a word that in their ancient tongue meant hope. But beneath the naming ceremony's jubilation, a quiet sorrow resonated—a lament for the other lives that could have been.

Laguna's heart ached with every quiet sigh REPL released, each tiny yawn, and the heartrending vulnerability in her infantile attempts to explore her surroundings. It was a potent concoction of love and pain, two sides of the same coin, each a sharp reminder of what she'd gained and what she'd lost.

In REPL, Laguna found a purpose to keep her grounded amidst her heartache. The cub became her sole focus, the epicenter of her existence. She spent her days tending to REPL's needs, her nights keeping vigil over her sleep. Every mewl from the cub was answered, every sign of discomfort addressed.

But this fierce maternal love left her depleted, her once vibrant eyes dulled with exhaustion, her strength ebbing with each passing day. Laguna, the mother, the leader, had become a sacrificial offering on the altar of survival. And yet, she pressed on, for in her heart, she knew that her own well-being was a small price to pay for REPL's future.

However, as REPL flourished, the world around them withered. When they had first arrived by the mountains, the waters of a nearby lake had still danced with the dancing rainbow lights of the sun's reflection off Chrome Peak. Those waters that had been such a welcome oasis for the parched travelers were now vanishing, surrendering to the parched earth.

What was left behind was a void, a lifeless crater where until recently, life thrived in abundance. Laguna bore witness to this relentless transformation, as Terra Vulpa's lifeblood disappeared, turning the lush landscapes into a desolate wasteland. 

The drought, unyielding, unmerciful, left no room for hope, imposing a haunting stillness that lingered like a spectre over the land.

This was no longer a simple battle for survival. With each passing day, with each inch of receding water, the possibility of extinction cast an increasingly longer shadow over the skulk. 

Laguna could see it in the desperate eyes of her kin, could feel it in the unspoken dread that hung in the air, and could hear it in the hushed whispers of her fellow travelers. 

Their world was at the brink, their existence hanging by a thread, all while she watched from the sidelines, nursing her single cub, in a cave that echoed with the silence of those not born.

Yet, Laguna refused to yield. 

She continued to give all of herself to REPL, even as her own personal vitality dwindled. She was so consumed by her love for REPL that she neglected her own needs, her survival instincts overridden by the potent pull of maternal love. 

Three silhouettes edged their way towards Laguna's den, their bodies hunched against the biting wind that whipped across the dry landscape. It was the council - Negative Entity, Photic Sneezer, and Orpheus Turns - known for their wisdom and guidance within the Jesters.

Their arrival usually signaled a time for problem-solving and decision-making, but their stooped postures and wary glances revealed a pressing concern that went beyond the ordinary.

Negative Entity, her tawny fur patchy and dull, led the procession. Once an optimistic and brave member of the skulk, was clearly weathered prematurely by the current stress. Following close behind was Photic Sneezer, whose distinctive sneezes, once a source of amusement, now barely registered amongst the gloom. Lastly, Orpheus Turns trailed behind them, his once striking figure now marred by lean muscle and sunken eyes, a testament to the skulk's desperation.

They stood at the entrance of Laguna's den, a mere whisper of their former selves. The council members exchanged glances before Negative Entity stepped forward, her voice carrying the weight of their collective worries. "Laguna," she began, her voice ragged as the parched earth. "The lake...it's worsening. We need to..."

But her voice trailed off as Laguna's gaze, instead of meeting theirs, was riveted onto her cub. REPL slept peacefully by her side, oblivious to the tense atmosphere. Laguna's eyes softened, a stark contrast to the hardened expressions of the council members. The world beyond her child seemed to blur into insignificance, as if REPL was the anchor keeping her grounded amidst the chaos.

"Laguna, we must discuss...," Orpheus Turns tried again.

Laguna’s gaze never wavering from REPL, never acknowledged her trusted peers, and the council slowly leaked back the way they had come.

—

That night, wracked with pain, Laguna retreated to the back of her cave and curled in on herself around REPL. The last moisture she had, she fed to her child, and closed her eyes.

The mist of sleep descended upon Laguna's mind and her consciousness began to ebb and flow. The wearied eyes of the council, the untouched innocence of her cub's gaze, her own dull eyes staring at her in the silt-laden water - all swirled within the river of her consciousness, each leaving its distinct ripple.

In the twilight of awareness, a small act of self-care rose like a bubble from the riverbed of her being. With her free paw, she found a speck of dampness. She tenderly coated her parched, desolate snout. It was a simple act, a drop in a dry riverbed, but it offered a soothing reprieve from the harsh dryness. The smallest tributary beginning to flow, as sleep claimed the landscape of her consciousness.

In this domain of dreams and softened thoughts, as Laguna lay curled protectively around her cub, a subtle shift began to ripple through their world. Unseen, unfelt by the slumbering skulk. At first, a tremor, but then a strange, powerful energy coursing around her body. Without hesitation, Laguna slipped away from her child and followed the pull of the earth. She found herself drawn to a crack in the ground, where she placed her paw. 

In that moment, she felt a surge of power unlike anything she had ever known. Her vision blurred, and she felt as though she was falling into an endless void. When she opened her eyes again, the mountains around her had become towering spires, and the sky and water that had already been a rainbow of colors became a swirling kaleidoscope of colours and patterns that shifted and changed with every passing moment.

Laguna looked down at her own body and saw herself part fox, part mountain, part river. Her fur was the colour of stone, and her eyes shone with a bright, otherworldly light. She cupped the lake in her hand, drank deeply, and then started to pour the liquid into the valley below.

A jarring sensation yanked Laguna back to the physical plane. Her eyes flickered open to the sight of her own paw ensnared by the stubborn earth. Her attempt to retract was met with firm resistance.

Fear, a rare and unexpected intruder, slithered into her heart. Her fur bristled, and her eyes widened as the realisation of her predicament took hold. The sharp edges of the rocks against her skin reminded her of the limits of her mortal form.

A primal urge to fight back flared in her, prompting her to yank her paw with more force. But the earth held fast, indifferent to her struggle. Her struggles only magnified the dull pain radiating up her leg. Her breaths became ragged, uneven, mirroring her chaotic thoughts.

And then, like a hidden spring surfacing amidst a barren landscape, a glimmer of her recent calm seeped into her consciousness. It murmured against her panic, coaxing her to reach for the harmony that had so recently flowed through her.

So, Laguna paused. She closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm of her breath - in, out, in, out. She felt the rapid pulsating in her paw slowly receding, the harsh edges of her fear blurring, mellowing into a bearable hum.

Inhaling deeply, she reached down and, with a deliberate slowness, pulled. The ground seemed to sigh, finally releasing its grip. Her paw slid free, leaving her both relieved and drained.

Turning, her gaze fell on REPL, peaceful and oblivious. She dragged herself over, curling her body around her cub, her ragged breaths gradually syncing with the gentle rhythm of REPL's.

As dawn washed over the earth, Laguna stirred from her sheltered retreat, her weary eyes drawn to the sight below. The valley, once a vibrant tapestry of life and colour, now lay parched and barren, a stark symbol of their grim reality. The once thriving flora was reduced to brittle skeletons, and what had been an azure lake was now just a dry, cracked memory.

Carefully, Laguna hoisted REPL onto her back, ensuring the cub was securely strapped in. REPL, nestled snugly against her mother's warmth, looked out with wide eyes at the desolate vista.

Resolved, Laguna began her arduous trek up the highest peak known to Terra Vulpa. She marched along the dry, stony lakebed, her steps echoing in the eerie silence.

Boulders, smooth and weathered by the water, now stood out like obstacles along her path. Her pads, though toughened by years of living in the wild, were raw against the harsh, rough surface. But Laguna pressed on, her focus sharpened by the survival instinct within her.

She pushed through the arid lowlands, slowly ascending towards the high places where the last vestiges of greenery clung stubbornly to life. Her senses, attuned to every shift in the wind, every rustle in the sparse foliage, painted a picture of her changing environment. The air here was thinner, the wind cooler against her emerald fur. With every upward stride, Laguna could feel the world changing around her, and within her…

The path under Laguna's paws softened as the rocky incline levelled out onto a plateau dotted with stubborn, weather-beaten vegetation. REPL slid from her back, the cub's eyes wide with an unspoken curiosity that Laguna couldn't help but share. She doubted any creature had ever been this high, this close to the metallic rainbow mountaintop still hundreds of yards above her. Something pulled her attention away from the peak, drawing her gaze to the cracked earth beneath them - an instinct, perhaps, or a whisper of a memory.

Carefully setting REPL aside, she pressed her hand into the hard soil. Closing her eyes, she sought communion. She felt the parched crust yield under her persistent touch.

Gritting her teeth, she dug deeper, clawing through layers of dead, dehydrated soil. Until her claws scraped against something unexpected - moisture. A cool, wet reprieve hiding beneath the desolation.

Scooping the precious liquid, she drank with an urgent gratitude, then turned to REPL, who mimicked her actions. There was no celebration, only the quiet understanding of survival.

Emboldened, Laguna continued to dig, deeper, wider. The hidden water source seeping upward until it pooled around her. A single, low cry slipped from her, echoing across the deserted landscape.

Alone and then in ragged groups, the skulk emerged, dragging themselves up the mountain side from the shadowed corners of the drought-stricken terrain. Some had walked a harder path, their bodies a testament to the relentless grip of the drought. Their ribs protruded beneath their dull coats, eyes sunken but alight with a spark at the sight of water. Those too weak or injured to dig sat at the edge of the assembly, their hopeful gazes fixated on the scene unfolding.

And yet, not every voice was accounted for in the chorus that echoed Laguna's call. Some, like the distinctive sneeze that once punctuated the gloom with mirth, had faded into an unspoken absence, haunting the edges of the tribe's collective memory.

Those strong enough joined her in the labor, paws digging alongside hers, until a slender stream of water began to wind its way down the craggy mountainside, whispering of the life it once knew, and the life it promised to bring back. The stream wound down the parched riverbed, a silver vein of hope making its way to the famished lake below.