CHAPTER 23

THE WOUNDED FOX

“My face! My beautiful face! Somebody help!” Fink the fox was lying on a log, howling in pain, with a face full of long, sharp quills, when Roz appeared. “Isn’t there anybody else who can help?”

“Would you like me to leave?” said the robot.

“No! Please don’t go! I’ll take what I can get.”

“What happened?”

“I didn’t think that porcupine could see me in the bushes, but when I went for his throat, suddenly there were quills in my face!”

“Why did you go for his throat?”

“Why do you think? Because I was hungry!”

“If you had not attacked the porcupine, you would not have quills in your face.”

“Yes, Roz, I know that. But a fox has gotta eat! I just didn’t expect him to put up such a fight. Look! There are even quills in my paws! I can’t walk! My face is numb! I could die if you don’t help me!”

“What would you like me to do?” said the robot.

“I’d like you to pull out the quills!”

Roz calmly knelt beside Fink and said, “I will pull out the quills.”

The robot started to tug on a quill, but it snapped off in her fingers. Fink yelped and said, “Pinch it closer to the skin!” So Roz pinched the broken quill closer to the skin, and then, very slowly, she pulled it out. The fox winced in pain and said through his teeth, “Please, Roz, pull them out faster. This is agony!”

Roz quickly tugged out another quill. Then another, and another. The fox lay perfectly still, eyes closed tightly, wind whistling through his nose, until every single quill had been removed and placed in a neat pile beside him.

Fink struggled to his feet. “Thanks, Roz. I… I owe you one.” The fox smiled, briefly, and then he limped away.