He had to get away.

Feet pounded. Dirt flew. Branches splintered, their treacherous snaps seeming to echo for miles as he forced his way through the forest.

Above him, the stars glared down, twinkling like miniature spotlights from every direction. They were watching. Hunting. Out for his blood.

Ducking down, he dodged under a particularly thick branch, then sprang up again just in time to avoid toppling into a narrow ditch. His stumble morphed into a leap, thankfully delivering him to the other side without consequence. You're an idiot, Fox, he growled to himself in the moments it took to recover his balance.

The shape of the ground curved downward below him, and he ran with it, his pace increasing as gravity aided his progress. It was so close. He could make it.

Using all his energy, he threw himself towards a slit in the ground ahead. This wasn't a ditch – this was an opening strategically placed for his benefit. A hatch rested open to its side. As his feet slid in, Fox levered his right hand around the latch and used his natural fall to slam it securely shut. Wow, gravity really was on his side today.

His bare feet dug into the soil below. He squinted in the underground darkness, fumbling for a familiar rope. Click. A bulb flickered above his head, and yellow light flooded the tunnel.

Fox released the cord and glanced back above him. His fingers traced the rim of the hatch. Hopefully it would seal the light in, and away from searching eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he surveyed the place. The small piles of clothes, as clean as he could get them. The leaves that formed his makeshift bed. The picture beside it, framed and dust-free. Everything was just as he'd left it. So maybe they hadn't found him.

With a sigh, he flopped down on the bed, reaching for the picture. It displayed the animal of his namesake – a russet fox, stood side on to whoever was taking the photograph, ears flopped curiously to the side. It's silvery eyes stared fiercely from the plastic covering.

"They won't hunt me down, I promise," he whispered to the fox. "Your sacrifice won't be in vain."

Suddenly, there was a rush of wind, sending the leaves around him fluttering backwards. Tossing the picture to the side, Fox leapt to his feet, staring at the opening the hatch had left as it clattered to the side. The dancing gust seemed to taunt his promise.

A light pierced the dimness.

It glowed with blinding ferocity, tinging the whole tunnel a pale shade of lime green. Fox threw his arms in front of his face, narrowing his vision to slits.

Through the shadows of his eyelids, he watched fearfully as the light grew brighter, filling the tunnel with an eerie green glow. The wind rocketed at full force, whipping through the auburn curls of his hair. He tried to stand, but the mixture of shock, light and air flow forced him down again.

Then the noise joined it. The roar of huge engines, yowling their pain to the night. Closing his eyes, Fox moved his hands to his ears, shielding them from the deafening sound.

When he lifted them away again, it had faded to a soft hum, radiating from somewhere close above the earth. The winds all but ceased. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and saw that the light too had faded. Only a hint of green remained.

But the threat hadn't vanished. He knew that.

Rising slowly to his feet, he crept as far away from the hatch as possible, crouching in the shadows. Footsteps crunched above his head. They were coming.

A voice called faintly. The sounds increased in volume, drawing closer. Fox retreated further into the shadows, his heart thumping wildly.

There was nothing he could do to stop them entering. There was a final shout, something like "Over here!"

And then they were there.

A humanoid figure dropped down from the open hatch. Black, furry ears jutted from its head, surrounded by a thick mass of dark grey hair. Its chest was bare, showcasing more dark hairs covering its skin. Tied around its lower half was a simple tunic, from which sprung a bushy grey tail. Its orange eyes, flowing with molten lava, immediately locked onto Fox.

Hunters.

It barked something, maybe an instruction, and then two more like it dropped down either side. All three of them advanced slowly, tapping claw-like fingers against their sides.

Shakily, Fox raised a hand, curled into a tight fist. He paced around them as they prowled towards him, creating a circular motion in the tunnel. "Leave me alone," he told them in the most assertive tone he could muster. The first creature let out a throaty chuckle.

There was no getting out of this in his present form. These beasts could overcome him in seconds.

But not if I Morph.

Sharp pains shot through his head, drawing open chasms in his scalp. From them emerged coppery ears, a similar colour to his hair. A tail forced its way out through the tears in his trousers. Fur prickled at his skin, growing and spreading, all in a matter of seconds.

He dropped down to newly-formed paws, not moving his gaze from the dark creatures.

Suddenly, the left one shrieked, tearing towards him at breakneck speed. Frantically, Fox leapt backwards and reached for the hatch. One leap secured his exit.

Ahead of him lay the thrumming machine.

A huge metal dome, shimmering with otherworldly power. It hovered mere inches from the ground, connected only by the green light that anchored it in place. Fear stung him in waves at the very sight of it.

An enraged grunt from below snapped him from his daze. Throwing himself aside, he narrowly avoided the rough arms of a beast as it sprung through the hatch. The white tip of his tail whipped away from another attempt to grasp him.

Idiot. Run, Fox.

Summoning all his animalistic strength, he sprinted away, his paws like lightning as they flew through the forest. Their roars and snarls called after him, giving chase, but the threat only increased his speed.

His thoughts fixed on the fox in the picture he kept. Vixen. The one he would never see again.

They may have caught you, he promised her, but they won't catch me. They cannot succeed in their hunt.

They can chase me for all their years of their lives, but they will never get me. I promise you that.

And, one day, he would turn the hunt on them.