Fruvous howled in terror as he scampered across the midnight tundra, claws slipping on the dull white ice as he ran for his life.
Behind him loomed his house, windows radiating a darkness that seemed to devour all the light around it greedily. It advanced on him in great, slow, thudding steps of its giant winter boots which compacted the tundra below it with a loud, sickening crunch.
And as it crunched after him, it howled too, but it was a howl not of fear but of rage. A howl comprised of a thousand knife-edged winter winds moaning in a dark and foul harmony the following words : How dare Fruvous escape its clutches? Didn’t he know that nobody wanted or loved him, so he was supposed to die in that back yard? That’s what happens to worthless, useless, unwanted foxes when people finally got sick of putting up with them and threw them away.
Now the house was here to finish the job, and Fruvous’ poor little heart was beating faster than ever as he ran for his life as fast as his paws would take him, almost blind with terror of the horrible haunted house behind him.
But his scampering steps were no match for the house’s giant strides, and soon, to the fox’s horror, the house’s back door was gaping open as it descended upon him and draw him into a darkness from which he would never escape…
Fruvous scrabbled hard at the blankets he slept on in an old laundry basket in the basement of his new home. For a few moments, he had no idea where he was, and the panic from his nightmare made him want to flee once more.
But then he woke up, and calmed down a little, laying on his side panting and looking around at his surroundings like he’d never seen them before.
Then, bit by bit, it all came back to him. The room where he lived in the family basement. His little nest up next to the furnace where it was nice and warm. The lovely humans asleep in the house above. And the fact that they loved him, and he loved them harder than he had ever loved before.
These memories comforted him. But he was still very scared. And when he was very scared, there was only one solution : Stacy.
So with all his innate predator’s stealth, Fruvous crept up the basement stairs, padded silently through the kitchen and up the main staircase, then pushed the door to Stacy’s room open with his nose.
Stacy always left her door a tiny bit open specifically so he could do that.
With a nimble little hop, he was on Stacy’s bed, tail swishing as he saw his favorite human, his angel, sleeping peacefully with her arms wrapped snugly around her shaggy brown teddy bear, Rupee.
At first, Fruvous was jealous of this fluffy rival for his angel’s affections, but after a very thorough sniffing, he concluded that Rupee was just a thing, and if a thing like that made his angel happy, he wanted her to have it.
Still, he couldn’t help glare and snarl softly at the thing-bear as if warning it to stay in its place as he curled up against the small of Stacy’s back.
He rested his chin on her side, sighed a sigh of blissful contentment, and fell asleep.
More after the break.
So I did it
I wrote part 4 of the Fruvous saga.
And I am planning out a part 5. Stay tuned.
Who knows, if I keep this going long enough, I could have a book on my paws hands.
I mean, I know the chapters are pretty short right now, but they are also pretty dense, so I don’t necessarily need to write 50K words for it to feel like a novel.
O M G, I could even try to illustrate it! It would be tricky, because I would have to make his look and his old and new homes consistent, and that’s not easy.
I really wish Easy Diffusion had a setting between “totally random” and “exactly the same”. Random can be way too random.
Anyhow, point is, Fruvous has a bit of a future. I honestly think he could be a beloved character, given all the years I have spend learning how to be/write a cute fluffy little foxy, and of course my fabulous writing skills and big, warm, sentimental heart.
Might have to change the name though. I am not in any way affiliated with the band that is his namesake, after all. And even though the band disbanded ages ago, I would still want to avoid any confusion and/or legal repercussions.
Oh well, Fruvous has a backup name, Fru, so I would just use that.
They can’t copyright a syllable!
Of course, for me, the ultimate expression of our little redheaded floof would be in animation, something I can’t do…. yet.
But the AI tools are getting better and better, so who knows, any day now they might make animation so easy that even I can do it.
I certainly have the animation knowledge. I grok it. And I am pretty sure I could handle the visual aspects if I keep things simple.
Holy crap, we’re almost there already.
I have volunteered to join the beta. Imagine my being able to create animations just by typing in the script, like I did with Invideo and this lovely thing :
Like that, but with animation. It’s well within the reach of the technology. After all, animation is just a series of pictures and we can already generate pictures.
Admittedly, animation is a much trickier beast that just cobbling together stock video clips and generated voiceover.
But the ability is tantalizingly close to reality. In fact, it might even be a reality if I am accepted into the beta for SayMotion.
God, do we live in an exciting era!
Especially for those of us who have a lot more talent than skill.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.