Roses | Peter Pevensie

Chapter Seven

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When the wolves finally found the other end of the tunnel and were able to move the barrel, they only found a small fox in the village clearing.

"Greeting, gents," said the fox, swiping his tail against the ground to cover human tracks. The wolves paid no mind to the act, circling him. "Lost something, have we?"

"Don't patronize me," Maugrim spat. "I know where your allegiance lies. We're looking for some humans. Three of them."

"Humans," the fox laughed, trying to hide his nerves. "In Narnia? I don't think so." The beavers and humans watched the scene from above, hidden in the bare branches of the trees. From her spot, Rosemary's shoulders sank in some sort of relief. Her presence in Narnia was still unknown - at least to the White Witch - and she considered that a win. "But that's a valuable bit of information, don't you think?"

A wolf jumped forward, clamping its teeth down on the fox's back, eliciting a yelp from the creature. Peter had to cover Lucy's mouth with his hand and Rosemary felt herself tense. This creature was only trying to help them and like Lucy's friend, he would pay for it.

"Your reward is your life," Maurgrim growled, ignoring the fox's heavy pants and whines. "It's not much, but still. Where are the fugitives?"

The fox's head dropped and he sighed, panting in pain. "North. They went north."

Maugrim lifted his head, commanding his troop. "Smell them out!"

As a unit, the wolves left and the fox is thrown aside carelessly. The moment everyone was sure the wolves were gone, Rosemary quickly climbed down the tree, letting herself drop the last few feet.

Dropping to her knees by the fox, she turned him over, inspecting his wounds. "Are you okay?"

"It'll heal," the fox panted. "They don't know about you."

"I suppose since I'm not part of the prophecy, they don't care about me," Rosemary theorized as she balled up some snow and placed it on the bite mark. "This should help numb the pain."

"Thank you."

"Thank you for not selling us out." Both Rosemary and the fox chuckled softly.

The others clambered down the tree slowly, Peter catching Lucy as she dropped from the last branch. The Pevensies gathered some wood and worked on getting fire going. Mrs. Beaver offered to help clean up the bite mark while her husband stood to go look at his friend who was now frozen in time.

"How did this happen?" Beaver asked. It sounded more like he was asking himself - like how he could have let it happen - but the fox still answered him.

"They were helping Tumnus escape from the Witch. She got here before I did- ow." The fox grunted as Mrs. Beaver cleaned his wounds and Rosemary held him down. "Could you please loosen your grip."

"Sorry, you're quite squirmy," Rosemary muttered.

"Are you alright?" Lucy asked softly.

"Well, I wish I could say their bark was worse than their bite - ow - but that would be a lie. Ow!"

"Stop squirming and it'll hurt less," Rosemary answered gruffly. "I said quit squirming."

"I swear, you're worse than Beaver on bath day," Mrs. Beaver muttered and her husband shivered.

"Worst day of the year." Lucy and Susan giggled at the anguish in his voice.

"Thank you for your kindness," the fox stood up on shaky legs. "But I'm afraid that's all the cure I have time for."