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Description
Artwork (C) ~foxstory and *MidnightAlleyCat 2012
When Middy uploads this in one of her iScribble collections, I will link to it here. Be sure to comment on her art when she uploads!

Short story, also titled "An Afternoon to Remember" (C) foxstory 2012

I made this in iScribble with *MidnightAlleyCat . She's a great iScribble partner and friend. I mean, the hours we spent making this were some of my most enjoyable from all the artworks I've made. We collaborated in real time and shared ideas. When Middy asked what the characters should be doing, my first thought was "homework" which I guess shows how academically centered I am. But after we talked some more, we came up with the idea of having them be painting. Per an agreement early on, I drew Middy's cat fursona Midnight while Middy drew my fursona. Middy painted the mountains and main background, as well as most of the trees. I did some of the trees, and the colors on the palette that she drew. I also did the blue of the sky and the clouds as well as the sun. I painted the paint can and she did the paw prints, while I did the spiral and the paint on the floor.

Basically, this is something that each of our fursonas would enjoy doing. I know I've seen the theme before in others' artworks, but I did not look at or reference anyone else's work while I did this.

I wondered during this art session, how is that a cat and fox could come together to make art?

I took some artistic liberty because the characters are anthropomorphic to the extent of speaking English. But anthropomorphism, properly defined, refers to general form or anatomy. So it's not really an anthropomorphic story. More like fictionalized fursona portrayal with real animal anatomy as limitations. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the following short story. And Middy, if you read this and want me to change anything, just let me know. And 34-35-35, since you wrote about me in two stories I am reciprocating with your cameo appearance here. Also, *SkySilky 's (C) original character Couga gets a briefer cameo in this story, but it may be hard to notice for those unfamiliar with the character.

Without further ado, here is the story. It is 3080 words. I wrote like 630 words in the first session and the remaining 2450 words or so in the second sit down writing session. Enjoy!

The striped gray and white cat ambled down the forest path. It meandered through prime woodland habitat, with vistas of fields and meadows complementing dense patches of coniferous forest. Midnight, or Middy as friends called her, stopped to consider how different this terrain was from the prairie she called home. Still, on her four paws she could cover the distance to the mountains in a few days with plenty of prey and sources of freshwater found along the way. In her journey, she had noticed a pack of wolves, but with her feline agility managed to avoid being spotted. At last, Middy noticed a dark wood and gray stone house in the distance.

The gray cat's pace quickened as she located her destination at long last. Her paws tread the loose gravel path leading from the rural road to the front door while she took in the design of the house. Mountain pine trees and colorful wildflowers dominated the front yard, as if the house were to simply blend into the surrounding forest. Ascending the front steps, Middy encountered a dilemma at the top.

“Not this!” exclaimed the exasperated cat. After all her travels, she was not one to be foiled by a doorbell placed four feet above the welcome mat. Middy sat before the immense mahogany front door, determined that her long journey would not go unnoticed because she was simply a cat. She could easily picture a canine on his hind paws reaching the doorbell. Other friends she had visited simply left their doors cracked around the time Middy planned to arrive. After turning her stern gaze away from the impossible doorbell, Middy breathed a sigh of relief to find a brown flap on the front door near the ground. Its design featured a pattern that precisely matched that of the rest of the door, such that a cautious observer would not immediately be able to discern the second door.

Middy put her best paw forward and pushed the flap open. It was her left paw, which had an almost white marking that matched the fur down the front of her chest. The light fur color complemented the medium gray with dark gray markings that covered the rest of her body. She nosed the flap open further and clambered through the opening.

A slender red fox napped contentedly in front of east-facing window as the early summer sun shone down on his fur. If he had not spent the better part of the previous night on a skype call with his other friends, perhaps he might be awake by the time of his visitor's arrival. The natural crepuscular rhythms of the red fox left him most alert at dawn and dusk, a limitation that he sought to overcome in the interest of chats about things that were truly natural, and harmonious, as well as an upcoming camping trip. After the evening had stretched to last all night, he had not managed to wake at sunrise.

Middy walked into the foyer and found her friend fast asleep in front of the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the nearby lake. “Hey, Douglas?” she whispered gently. “Douglas, wake up, I'm here.” “Come on, it's me, Middy!” exclaimed the cat to no avail. “Oh, bother. I can't believe I have to do this.” The cat glanced to her left, and then right, as she rejoiced in the fact that there were no observers present.

“MMIIAAAOOOWWWW! YOWWWL, MEOWWW!” The red fox jerked suddenly and opened his eyes. A gray and white striped cat smiled at him, a foot from his overly sensitive ears. Lying on his side, he spoke to her. “Urr, I'm awake now, okay?” He stood on all fours and faced the cat.

“S- s- sorry. I tried talking to you, but you didn't respond to that,” explained Middy.

“It's nothing. Look, I'm really glad you made it here safe and sound. This place is really remote, but I find that it suits me somehow,” replied the fox. He padded over to the kitchen's slate tiles, as Middy looked on curiously. “You must be famished, the prairie is quite a trek away. I might not have much to choose from, but please make yourself at home here,” the fox offered. The small gray cat followed Douglas into the designer kitchen. An array of dorm size refrigerators placed cold food at paw's reach. Upon a low granite counter top, a silver platter held several massive branches full of indigo grapes. “I don't know what cats think of grapes, but you really should try these. A human friend of mine brought them by the other day. She had quite a stunning owl mask, but she had to leave in a hurry to get back to her family,” explained the red fox.

“Well, okay, I'll try them,” replied Middy. The cat leapt up to the counter, where she perched beside the platter. She pawed cautiously at the grapes, careful to not dislodge the stacked fruit. The stubborn branch of grapes rebounded to its original position as she moved her paw away. Several repeated brushes failed to bring the grapes any closer to her. Trusting in natural feline agility, she put both paws forward as she leaned over and bit into a grape. As she shifted her weight to bite into another grape, the branched clusters of grapes slid on the platter beneath her.

“Uh, Middy, you might want to-”

“I'm just fine, I-” Middy began. Before she could finish her words, the loose grapes rolled across the platter and onto the floor as the larger branches began to slide over each other. What had once been a mountain of distinctively non sour fox food soon became dislodged as the platter began to tilt to one side. Middy's ears perked up as she realized her precarious position. Almost on her side, it appeared as if she too would fall to the ground. Her well-timed leap from the platter, followed by midair maneuvering left her on the slate on all four paws. A few stray grapes rolled across the floor as the cat glanced to her sides before looking down to the ground.

“That was one impressive jump. It's one thing to hear that cats always land on their paws, but that was something to watch,” the awed fox commented.

“Douglas, I didn't mean for that to happen,” said Middy. Her tail twitched back and forth in quick jerking motions.

“Oh, don't worry. I eat most of my food outside anyway. Come on, have some more! They're great, aren't they?” said Douglas.

“Uh, yeah! They taste pretty good. Not too sour, I might add,” replied the newly at ease cat. “Wait, so you mostly eat outside? I would have thought with this house and all, that you'd live off groceries,” said Middy.

“A proud red fox like me? Never! I hunt in my territory, a few square miles around this house and the lake. Mostly rodents. Some insects. And maybe someday, a bird,” said Douglas. The fox's ears were erect and his eyes were lit with a primal fire.

“Oh, what a relief! I was worried you'd ask about what I ate on the way here. I didn't exactly cross any grocery stores along the journey,” said Middy. “Do you go hunting alone?” asked the cat.

“Most of the time. But I'm not the best in these parts, though. The feral foxes around here are much better, especially a huntress whose territory borders mine to the north,” he explained. The issue of food thus exhausted as a conversation topic, the two friends dug in to their mid-morning meal. Minutes later, the fox looked around at the kitchen scene. Crushed grapes and their oozing juices left marks on the floor, while Middy seemed to have grape juice on her fur. Douglas imagined that he must look similar, or with even more blue stains given his prodigious consumption of the grapes. The grape stains reminded him of something, but the precise idea eluded him.

Time passed as Middy explained between her bites the story of her hunting adventures in lands ranging from the prairie to the foothills to the mountains. While Douglas could not offer her any fish, the friends agreed that a trip to the lake to wash up would be in order before an afternoon tour of the house.

Hours passed for the two as they completed a walk of the entire lake perimeter. Halfway through, Douglas showed Middy to the edge of the vixen's territory, but warned the cat that she might appear as prey. “Feral foxes live by the code of the wilderness. There's nothing about having friends of other species, especially not other hunters such as felines. She's really someone special, but it's just not safe for me to introduce you. I hope you understand,” said the red fox. His ears tilted to the side as his tail swished back and forth in characteristic nervous movements.

Middy cocked her head to one side. “I guess so. For cats, we mostly have a division between the house kitties, who depend on their humans, and the more warrior oriented ones like myself,” she replied.

“It's probably better if we go now,” said Douglas as he led the cat to complete the second half of the lake tour. As the two approached the steps to the house's back door, the elusive idea formed at once in the mind of the red fox. His ears perked up as he lifted his tail. “Middy!”

“What?” replied the cat.

“You know all that grape juice from earlier?” he began.

“I think I washed it all out of my fur. What about it?” she replied.

“It's like... it's like we made paint! I've noticed it before whenever I eat wild berries. Have you ever tried painting before now?” he asked.

“No, I've just heard it's something humans do. Some of the newly wild cats I've met say their old owners had these colorful rectangles on their wall, and white rectangles for putting colors on,” said the cat.

“Oh, come on! I'll show you painting. I got a canvas and paint set for an early birthday gift. And I have a whole CAN of blue paint!” exclaimed the fox. He ran up the wooden steps to the porch, and stood upon his hind legs to push the unlocked back door open. Middy followed in close pursuit, bounding up the three steps in one feline leap.

The fox ran through the living room up to the carpeted stairs leading to a second floor. As though in a race with her larger friend, the agile cat managed to keep up with him as they ascended the second staircase together. Douglas showed Middy to where the canvas rested against the wall, just next to a second floor window that was always left open in the summer. The red fox went to pick up the palette, as he bade the cat search for the missing can of blue paint.

“I found the blue paint can! I found it!” exclaimed the cat.

“Mmmm! Mmn!” mumbled the red fox. He assumed a crouching position and gently laid the palette upon the floor. “I can't talk to you while I've got this in my muzzle. So we might as well work the details out beforehand,” he said. Douglas padded over to where Middy had found the blue paint can. Together, the two friends nosed the paint can over to rest in front of where the canvas was tilted against the wall. Middy's finely sharpened cat claws managed to be just the trick for removing the lid of the paint can, a feat that Douglas had not managed from the larger size of his paws.

“Do you think you could get the lid off this packaged palette? I've tried it several times before, but I just can't manage it,” said the fox.

“Sure, I'll try it,” said Middy. She placed her paws on either edge of the palette and bit down on an edge of the plastic lid. With a jerk of her head, the cat sent the plastic lid flying off. “I think purple suits me,” said the cat. She took her marked front left paw and blended the edges of the red and blue paints. The cat evaluated the slant of canvas against the wall and decided her plan would work without knocking the canvas down. After a quiver of her powerful leg muscles, Middy leapt to plant her front left paw squarely against the center of the canvas.

“So it looks like we can skip the art theory lecture, then, eh?” asked Douglas.

“What lecture? Painting's too much fun to have lectures!” replied Middy. The cat swished her tail back and forth as a glint of mischief shone in her eyes.

“You know, I kind of felt the same way back in school,” said the fox. And so he sunk his front right paw into the can of blue paint and made a small blot to the left of Middy's mark. Douglas figured he could return to that later, and soon went for the yellow. Taking the palette back into his muzzle, he stopped from his paw-made handiwork whenever Middy wanted to try a new color. He listened to Middy's critical evaluation of his work while offering only mumbled encouragement to her work. While he would have wished to say more to her, holding the palette proved to be quite an impediment to that goal.

A delightful hour passed by, as Douglas sometimes took breaks to gaze out the open window at the surrounding mountains and treed foothills. Middy continued to dab her paws into his proffered palette, making a delightful blurred rainbow mosaic of colors at the base. Her height proved a near impasse, as even jumps left her short of painting the top third or so of the canvas. Douglas looked on and wondered how to fill the white space. Of course, the palette left him unable to comment on the cat's industrious efforts.

“What is a cat doing here? I thought you only were, like friendly with canines and part dragons!” exclaimed a mysterious stranger. Strangely, the stranger was stranger than most strangers were strange. He, if the stranger was a man, wore a traveling cloak that was lush, because it had palm trees and green patterns all over it. The figure was angular, because he had thin limbs and a stern posture.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in here? I'm going to call the police!” exclaimed Douglas.

“You already know who I am. I live here, when I'm not living at the famiry's house. That's how I know all about you all. I've read all their diaries, and yours too. That's how I write all those stories with dead-on character portrayal,” said the angular figure. He produced an ID card for a tumblr account. It had a striped pattern of iridescent and ginger colors. The plastic card merely read out XXXIV-XXXV-XXXV.

“Ronnie is NOT an overrated adventurer! She's an awesome adventurer, and her art is the best I've ever seen,” protested Douglas. “And Verli is not a ginger wolf, for that matter. And snow wolves don't come to life and chase people. And how did you find what I wrote about Ronnie in my diary?” the fox asked.

34-35-35 ignored these questions, just as he mostly ignored any attempts to inquire as to his true identity. He sighed, like the sound of a leaf falling on a fox's pelt in the autumn. The cloaked figure turned to the cat. “What's your name? I'm going to write you into a story of mine and not tell anyone who I am! Mwahahaha,” the stranger laughed strangely as his lush cloak swayed in the light breeze from the open window.

“Middy, don't answer him!” said Douglas. “Oh, wait, oops, sorry! I'm really sorry!”

“Mwahahaha,” said 34-35-35. “But I'm sorry I interrupted your art session that you thought was private. How can I make it up to you?” the figure asked. His expression was impenetrable and emotionless. Douglas had not expected as much, from the person's writing.

“Well, I know it's true that if I fold 1000 origami dragon foxes, I'll get a wish granted. But that's not fair, because no one has ever divulged to me the secret knowledge of how to fold an origami dragon fox,” lamented Douglas. “I can't find it online anywhere. Will you show me how?” While Middy finished the painting, 34-35-35 taught Douglas the secret art of folding an origami dragon fox with a unit of dragon. He left the folded figure to Douglas as a gift. Only after 34-35-35 left to return to the famiry house, his other secret residence, did Douglas realize that he had never mastered the secret of obtaining a supply of dragon.

Douglas painted the image of the dragon fox that 34-35-35 left him into the painting, where it took up the top third that Middy was unable to reach. “You know, I think you don't need a supply of dragon after all,” said Middy. She had overheard 34-35-35 mention it in a brief comment that Douglas seemed to ignore.

“Oh, really? So I can still make dragon foxes without a dragon supply?” asked Douglas.

“Well, if you had hands. But we've got paws. That's even better than a granted wish,” said Middy.

“You mean it?” asked the fox.

“Of course! Ask yourself, what could be better than your life as a fox? Leave the anonymous creative writing mischief and legends about making wishes to the humans,” said the cat. Douglas paused to consider Middy's wisdom. Sure, if he had been a human, his one wish would be becoming a fox. So he didn't need the dragon supply, or hands to fold origami after all. This afternoon, several hours of peace shared between a cat and a fox as they painted together, was the best he could ever ask for with a friend. As the cat and fox placed the finishing touches on the painting, they both agreed that it was an Afternoon to Remember.

Description
Artwork (C) ~foxstory and *MidnightAlleyCat 2012
When Middy uploads this in one of her iScribble collections, I will link to it here. Be sure to comment on her art when she uploads!

Short story, also titled "An Afternoon to Remember" (C) foxstory 2012

I made this in iScribble with *MidnightAlleyCat . She's a great iScribble partner and friend. I mean, the hours we spent making this were some of my most enjoyable from all the artworks I've made. We collaborated in real time and shared ideas. When Middy asked what the characters should be doing, my first thought was "homework" which I guess shows how academically centered I am. But after we talked some more, we came up with the idea of having them be painting. Per an agreement early on, I drew Middy's cat fursona Midnight while Middy drew my fursona. Middy painted the mountains and main background, as well as most of the trees. I did some of the trees, and the colors on the palette that she drew. I also did the blue of the sky and the clouds as well as the sun. I painted the paint can and she did the paw prints, while I did the spiral and the paint on the floor.

Basically, this is something that each of our fursonas would enjoy doing. I know I've seen the theme before in others' artworks, but I did not look at or reference anyone else's work while I did this.

I wondered during this art session, how is that a cat and fox could come together to make art?

I took some artistic liberty because the characters are anthropomorphic to the extent of speaking English. But anthropomorphism, properly defined, refers to general form or anatomy. So it's not really an anthropomorphic story. More like fictionalized fursona portrayal with real animal anatomy as limitations. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the following short story. And Middy, if you read this and want me to change anything, just let me know. And 34-35-35, since you wrote about me in two stories I am reciprocating with your cameo appearance here. Also, *SkySilky 's (C) original character Couga gets a briefer cameo in this story, but it may be hard to notice for those unfamiliar with the character.

Without further ado, here is the story. It is 3080 words. I wrote like 630 words in the first session and the remaining 2450 words or so in the second sit down writing session. Enjoy!

The striped gray and white cat ambled down the forest path. It meandered through prime woodland habitat, with vistas of fields and meadows complementing dense patches of coniferous forest. Midnight, or Middy as friends called her, stopped to consider how different this terrain was from the prairie she called home. Still, on her four paws she could cover the distance to the mountains in a few days with plenty of prey and sources of freshwater found along the way. In her journey, she had noticed a pack of wolves, but with her feline agility managed to avoid being spotted. At last, Middy noticed a dark wood and gray stone house in the distance.

The gray cat's pace quickened as she located her destination at long last. Her paws tread the loose gravel path leading from the rural road to the front door while she took in the design of the house. Mountain pine trees and colorful wildflowers dominated the front yard, as if the house were to simply blend into the surrounding forest. Ascending the front steps, Middy encountered a dilemma at the top.

“Not this!” exclaimed the exasperated cat. After all her travels, she was not one to be foiled by a doorbell placed four feet above the welcome mat. Middy sat before the immense mahogany front door, determined that her long journey would not go unnoticed because she was simply a cat. She could easily picture a canine on his hind paws reaching the doorbell. Other friends she had visited simply left their doors cracked around the time Middy planned to arrive. After turning her stern gaze away from the impossible doorbell, Middy breathed a sigh of relief to find a brown flap on the front door near the ground. Its design featured a pattern that precisely matched that of the rest of the door, such that a cautious observer would not immediately be able to discern the second door.

Middy put her best paw forward and pushed the flap open. It was her left paw, which had an almost white marking that matched the fur down the front of her chest. The light fur color complemented the medium gray with dark gray markings that covered the rest of her body. She nosed the flap open further and clambered through the opening.

A slender red fox napped contentedly in front of east-facing window as the early summer sun shone down on his fur. If he had not spent the better part of the previous night on a skype call with his other friends, perhaps he might be awake by the time of his visitor's arrival. The natural crepuscular rhythms of the red fox left him most alert at dawn and dusk, a limitation that he sought to overcome in the interest of chats about things that were truly natural, and harmonious, as well as an upcoming camping trip. After the evening had stretched to last all night, he had not managed to wake at sunrise.

Middy walked into the foyer and found her friend fast asleep in front of the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the nearby lake. “Hey, Douglas?” she whispered gently. “Douglas, wake up, I'm here.” “Come on, it's me, Middy!” exclaimed the cat to no avail. “Oh, bother. I can't believe I have to do this.” The cat glanced to her left, and then right, as she rejoiced in the fact that there were no observers present.

“MMIIAAAOOOWWWW! YOWWWL, MEOWWW!” The red fox jerked suddenly and opened his eyes. A gray and white striped cat smiled at him, a foot from his overly sensitive ears. Lying on his side, he spoke to her. “Urr, I'm awake now, okay?” He stood on all fours and faced the cat.

“S- s- sorry. I tried talking to you, but you didn't respond to that,” explained Middy.

“It's nothing. Look, I'm really glad you made it here safe and sound. This place is really remote, but I find that it suits me somehow,” replied the fox. He padded over to the kitchen's slate tiles, as Middy looked on curiously. “You must be famished, the prairie is quite a trek away. I might not have much to choose from, but please make yourself at home here,” the fox offered. The small gray cat followed Douglas into the designer kitchen. An array of dorm size refrigerators placed cold food at paw's reach. Upon a low granite counter top, a silver platter held several massive branches full of indigo grapes. “I don't know what cats think of grapes, but you really should try these. A human friend of mine brought them by the other day. She had quite a stunning owl mask, but she had to leave in a hurry to get back to her family,” explained the red fox.

“Well, okay, I'll try them,” replied Middy. The cat leapt up to the counter, where she perched beside the platter. She pawed cautiously at the grapes, careful to not dislodge the stacked fruit. The stubborn branch of grapes rebounded to its original position as she moved her paw away. Several repeated brushes failed to bring the grapes any closer to her. Trusting in natural feline agility, she put both paws forward as she leaned over and bit into a grape. As she shifted her weight to bite into another grape, the branched clusters of grapes slid on the platter beneath her.

“Uh, Middy, you might want to-”

“I'm just fine, I-” Middy began. Before she could finish her words, the loose grapes rolled across the platter and onto the floor as the larger branches began to slide over each other. What had once been a mountain of distinctively non sour fox food soon became dislodged as the platter began to tilt to one side. Middy's ears perked up as she realized her precarious position. Almost on her side, it appeared as if she too would fall to the ground. Her well-timed leap from the platter, followed by midair maneuvering left her on the slate on all four paws. A few stray grapes rolled across the floor as the cat glanced to her sides before looking down to the ground.

“That was one impressive jump. It's one thing to hear that cats always land on their paws, but that was something to watch,” the awed fox commented.

“Douglas, I didn't mean for that to happen,” said Middy. Her tail twitched back and forth in quick jerking motions.

“Oh, don't worry. I eat most of my food outside anyway. Come on, have some more! They're great, aren't they?” said Douglas.

“Uh, yeah! They taste pretty good. Not too sour, I might add,” replied the newly at ease cat. “Wait, so you mostly eat outside? I would have thought with this house and all, that you'd live off groceries,” said Middy.

“A proud red fox like me? Never! I hunt in my territory, a few square miles around this house and the lake. Mostly rodents. Some insects. And maybe someday, a bird,” said Douglas. The fox's ears were erect and his eyes were lit with a primal fire.

“Oh, what a relief! I was worried you'd ask about what I ate on the way here. I didn't exactly cross any grocery stores along the journey,” said Middy. “Do you go hunting alone?” asked the cat.

“Most of the time. But I'm not the best in these parts, though. The feral foxes around here are much better, especially a huntress whose territory borders mine to the north,” he explained. The issue of food thus exhausted as a conversation topic, the two friends dug in to their mid-morning meal. Minutes later, the fox looked around at the kitchen scene. Crushed grapes and their oozing juices left marks on the floor, while Middy seemed to have grape juice on her fur. Douglas imagined that he must look similar, or with even more blue stains given his prodigious consumption of the grapes. The grape stains reminded him of something, but the precise idea eluded him.

Time passed as Middy explained between her bites the story of her hunting adventures in lands ranging from the prairie to the foothills to the mountains. While Douglas could not offer her any fish, the friends agreed that a trip to the lake to wash up would be in order before an afternoon tour of the house.

Hours passed for the two as they completed a walk of the entire lake perimeter. Halfway through, Douglas showed Middy to the edge of the vixen's territory, but warned the cat that she might appear as prey. “Feral foxes live by the code of the wilderness. There's nothing about having friends of other species, especially not other hunters such as felines. She's really someone special, but it's just not safe for me to introduce you. I hope you understand,” said the red fox. His ears tilted to the side as his tail swished back and forth in characteristic nervous movements.

Middy cocked her head to one side. “I guess so. For cats, we mostly have a division between the house kitties, who depend on their humans, and the more warrior oriented ones like myself,” she replied.

“It's probably better if we go now,” said Douglas as he led the cat to complete the second half of the lake tour. As the two approached the steps to the house's back door, the elusive idea formed at once in the mind of the red fox. His ears perked up as he lifted his tail. “Middy!”

“What?” replied the cat.

“You know all that grape juice from earlier?” he began.

“I think I washed it all out of my fur. What about it?” she replied.

“It's like... it's like we made paint! I've noticed it before whenever I eat wild berries. Have you ever tried painting before now?” he asked.

“No, I've just heard it's something humans do. Some of the newly wild cats I've met say their old owners had these colorful rectangles on their wall, and white rectangles for putting colors on,” said the cat.

“Oh, come on! I'll show you painting. I got a canvas and paint set for an early birthday gift. And I have a whole CAN of blue paint!” exclaimed the fox. He ran up the wooden steps to the porch, and stood upon his hind legs to push the unlocked back door open. Middy followed in close pursuit, bounding up the three steps in one feline leap.

The fox ran through the living room up to the carpeted stairs leading to a second floor. As though in a race with her larger friend, the agile cat managed to keep up with him as they ascended the second staircase together. Douglas showed Middy to where the canvas rested against the wall, just next to a second floor window that was always left open in the summer. The red fox went to pick up the palette, as he bade the cat search for the missing can of blue paint.

“I found the blue paint can! I found it!” exclaimed the cat.

“Mmmm! Mmn!” mumbled the red fox. He assumed a crouching position and gently laid the palette upon the floor. “I can't talk to you while I've got this in my muzzle. So we might as well work the details out beforehand,” he said. Douglas padded over to where Middy had found the blue paint can. Together, the two friends nosed the paint can over to rest in front of where the canvas was tilted against the wall. Middy's finely sharpened cat claws managed to be just the trick for removing the lid of the paint can, a feat that Douglas had not managed from the larger size of his paws.

“Do you think you could get the lid off this packaged palette? I've tried it several times before, but I just can't manage it,” said the fox.

“Sure, I'll try it,” said Middy. She placed her paws on either edge of the palette and bit down on an edge of the plastic lid. With a jerk of her head, the cat sent the plastic lid flying off. “I think purple suits me,” said the cat. She took her marked front left paw and blended the edges of the red and blue paints. The cat evaluated the slant of canvas against the wall and decided her plan would work without knocking the canvas down. After a quiver of her powerful leg muscles, Middy leapt to plant her front left paw squarely against the center of the canvas.

“So it looks like we can skip the art theory lecture, then, eh?” asked Douglas.

“What lecture? Painting's too much fun to have lectures!” replied Middy. The cat swished her tail back and forth as a glint of mischief shone in her eyes.

“You know, I kind of felt the same way back in school,” said the fox. And so he sunk his front right paw into the can of blue paint and made a small blot to the left of Middy's mark. Douglas figured he could return to that later, and soon went for the yellow. Taking the palette back into his muzzle, he stopped from his paw-made handiwork whenever Middy wanted to try a new color. He listened to Middy's critical evaluation of his work while offering only mumbled encouragement to her work. While he would have wished to say more to her, holding the palette proved to be quite an impediment to that goal.

A delightful hour passed by, as Douglas sometimes took breaks to gaze out the open window at the surrounding mountains and treed foothills. Middy continued to dab her paws into his proffered palette, making a delightful blurred rainbow mosaic of colors at the base. Her height proved a near impasse, as even jumps left her short of painting the top third or so of the canvas. Douglas looked on and wondered how to fill the white space. Of course, the palette left him unable to comment on the cat's industrious efforts.

“What is a cat doing here? I thought you only were, like friendly with canines and part dragons!” exclaimed a mysterious stranger. Strangely, the stranger was stranger than most strangers were strange. He, if the stranger was a man, wore a traveling cloak that was lush, because it had palm trees and green patterns all over it. The figure was angular, because he had thin limbs and a stern posture.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in here? I'm going to call the police!” exclaimed Douglas.

“You already know who I am. I live here, when I'm not living at the famiry's house. That's how I know all about you all. I've read all their diaries, and yours too. That's how I write all those stories with dead-on character portrayal,” said the angular figure. He produced an ID card for a tumblr account. It had a striped pattern of iridescent and ginger colors. The plastic card merely read out XXXIV-XXXV-XXXV.

“Ronnie is NOT an overrated adventurer! She's an awesome adventurer, and her art is the best I've ever seen,” protested Douglas. “And Verli is not a ginger wolf, for that matter. And snow wolves don't come to life and chase people. And how did you find what I wrote about Ronnie in my diary?” the fox asked.

34-35-35 ignored these questions, just as he mostly ignored any attempts to inquire as to his true identity. He sighed, like the sound of a leaf falling on a fox's pelt in the autumn. The cloaked figure turned to the cat. “What's your name? I'm going to write you into a story of mine and not tell anyone who I am! Mwahahaha,” the stranger laughed strangely as his lush cloak swayed in the light breeze from the open window.

“Middy, don't answer him!” said Douglas. “Oh, wait, oops, sorry! I'm really sorry!”

“Mwahahaha,” said 34-35-35. “But I'm sorry I interrupted your art session that you thought was private. How can I make it up to you?” the figure asked. His expression was impenetrable and emotionless. Douglas had not expected as much, from the person's writing.

“Well, I know it's true that if I fold 1000 origami dragon foxes, I'll get a wish granted. But that's not fair, because no one has ever divulged to me the secret knowledge of how to fold an origami dragon fox,” lamented Douglas. “I can't find it online anywhere. Will you show me how?” While Middy finished the painting, 34-35-35 taught Douglas the secret art of folding an origami dragon fox with a unit of dragon. He left the folded figure to Douglas as a gift. Only after 34-35-35 left to return to the famiry house, his other secret residence, did Douglas realize that he had never mastered the secret of obtaining a supply of dragon.

Douglas painted the image of the dragon fox that 34-35-35 left him into the painting, where it took up the top third that Middy was unable to reach. “You know, I think you don't need a supply of dragon after all,” said Middy. She had overheard 34-35-35 mention it in a brief comment that Douglas seemed to ignore.

“Oh, really? So I can still make dragon foxes without a dragon supply?” asked Douglas.

“Well, if you had hands. But we've got paws. That's even better than a granted wish,” said Middy.

“You mean it?” asked the fox.

“Of course! Ask yourself, what could be better than your life as a fox? Leave the anonymous creative writing mischief and legends about making wishes to the humans,” said the cat. Douglas paused to consider Middy's wisdom. Sure, if he had been a human, his one wish would be becoming a fox. So he didn't need the dragon supply, or hands to fold origami after all. This afternoon, several hours of peace shared between a cat and a fox as they painted together, was the best he could ever ask for with a friend. As the cat and fox placed the finishing touches on the painting, they both agreed that it was an Afternoon to Remember.