All foxes

Always carries a little warmth in its fur – a popular companion on cold days.

Leaves little frost flowers wherever it sits. Prefers snow to mushrooms.

Smells of forest floor and loves sleeping in soft moss.

Catches fish with a single swipe of its paw – usually.

Digs the deepest dens in the whole forest.

Rustles through the leaves and gathers chestnuts for winter.

With its huge ears it hears a beetle three dunes away.

Its fur shines like a freshly polished copper kettle.

Loves dancing in puddles – the bigger, the better.

Appears in the morning mist and is gone with the sun.

Collects round pebbles and stacks them into little towers.

The spots on its fur look like birch bark.

So light it leaves no tracks in fresh snow.

Can only be seen when it wants to be.

One boop from it – and your hair stands on end.

Collects shiny stones and hides them in its den.

Lives in cooled lava caves. Sparks still glow in its fur.

Knows every dry stone in the marsh – and every wet one too.

Swings through the canopy on vines.

Its tail is made of ice – in summer it moves to the tundra.

Bathes in warm volcanic rock and smells faintly of sulphur.

Outruns the wind and always arrives tousled.

Carries a little light in its tail and guides the lost.

Lives in bramble hedges and never gets scratched.

Licks salt stones and sparkles in the sun afterwards.

Leaves little ink blots behind – some of them are spells.

Collects shells on the beach and listens to the sea inside them.

Wherever it walks, the blossoms open a little earlier.

Lies in clearings at noon, soaking up sun for the night.

Climbs every ridge of the Misty Mountains with ease.

Symbols nobody can read appear on its fur.

Jumps from cloud to cloud and never touches the ground.

Lives at the bottom of the Magic Lake among colourful corals.

Meditates for hours in the bamboo grove and is hard to rattle.

Roams glowing rooftops at night and loves everything that hums.

The rock keeps glowing in its paw prints for a long time.

Charges up on storm clouds and crackles when you pet it.

Sleeps in geodes and dreams in violet.

Appears in the middle of a sandstorm and vanishes with it.

Lures hikers into the swamp with blue lights – mostly just for fun.

Wakes up first and paints the sky pink.

Understands the language of ravens and hears every secret.

Roams the glaciers of the Misty Mountains and knows every crevasse.

Lives by the Magic Lake and senses when the water rises.

Splits light into every colour – it’s almost impossible to find in the Crystal Caves.

Guards the largest mushroom grove in the forest – and hates sharing.

Floats through fog and walls. Nobody knows where it comes from.

Has little horns and – when it sneezes – breathes tiny flames.

Brings hail when it's in a bad mood.

Already sees tomorrow what you catch today.

Comes from the depths where no light reaches. Its spots glow.

Its eyes are green gems – say those who have seen it.

Said to have risen from the ashes of old campfires. Its tail glows even in the rain.

When it runs, you hear thunder a second later.

Only shows itself at the Old Ruins on clear full-moon nights.

When it howls, green lights dance in the sky.

Inclusions from ancient times shimmer in its fur.

Trees bend wherever it runs through.

Only shows itself on the longest day of the year.

The oldest fox in the forest. Moss grows on its back.

A legend from the Forgotten Caves. Its eyes glow violet.

They say it fell from a shooting star.

Only visits you in your sleep. Whoever catches it never has a bad dream again.

Runs backwards through time – that's why nobody has ever seen it coming.

Only comes out of the leaves on harvest-moon nights – its fur glows like a jack-o'-lantern.

Brings shooting stars in winter that never melt.