He pointed and whispered, ‘If we keep quiet long enough the foxes may come out from just there, by that clump of dead ferns. You may not see them at first as a visible shape, but as a slight difference in the scenery before you, as though something is there that wasn’t there the last time you looked.’

‘I didn’t know foxes lived in the heart of the forest,’ she said, also whispering.

‘Actually, from here we’re not too far from the outskirts of the north side of the plantation. They have an endless supply of food round about here, rabbits, hares, mice, worms and carrion. This particular dog fox has a most peculiar bark, it chilled me to the bone when I first heard it. It was rather eerie, like a strange haunting sound one remembers from a troublesome dream.’

‘Is he very big? I haven’t caught sight of a fox since Clem shot a rogue vixen having a go at the geese and chickens about six months ago.’

‘He’s quite big for a young fox. I’ve given him a logical name, Kywarn – dog fox.’

Rosie looked up sharply at a noise above the hideout. ‘What was that!’ she exclaimed.

‘Shush,’ Oliver grinned with a finger to his lips. ‘A squirrel more than likely.’

‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘If it was a squirrel it should be thinking about hibernating.’

‘A contrary female squirrel,’ he teased her.

They waited, neither speaking. Rosie was warm and comfortable. She had slipped off her soggy shoes and tucked her legs up on the bench and wrapped herself in the blankets. She kept her eyes on the woodland outside. Oliver mainly kept his eyes on her. Rosie knew this and felt a satisfied glow inside.

Oliver suddenly moved closer to the opening; his sharp eyes had seen something. Rosie obeyed his beckoning hand and gingerly moved to his side. More time passed and Rosie’s eyes stung with rooting them on the clump of ferns. As would be expected, the larger dog fox emerged to full sight first. He looked directly at the light then cautiously from side to side and sniffed the air thoroughly before disappearing in an instant. He repeated this three times before he felt it was safe to remain outside his earth.

‘What a beautiful, beautiful creature,’ Rosie breathed.

The fox looked in a straight line in their direction. Rosie’s heart thumped. Had it heard her? Could it see her? Would it bolt inside and not come to ground again?

The fox sniffed the air again with its sharp pointed nose, paced a few steps in either direction and to the front of its den, then remained still.

Oliver put his arm round Rosie and pulled her closer to him, his warm breath grazing her skin as he whispered into her ear, ‘Can you make out the vixen’s face through the ferns?’

Rosie peered harder. ‘Yes, yes, will she come out?’