Avoid the strangers
For now, it seems your best course is to avoid anyone who might be dangerous. You keep low and use the natural rise and fall of the land to stay hidden from any onlookers as you pass the camping site. Several times the sound of rustling leaves or snapping twigs makes you freeze, eyes wide and ears straining, but there is never any sign of pursuit.
After a few minutes the trees thin out into a man-made clearing. An old house sits in the centre, surrounded by outbuildings in various states of disrepair. An outdated car sits in a roofless garage, overgrown with weeds and so heavily rusted its original colour is impossible to guess. A child's swing frame stands nearby; the swing is long gone. Yet despite the dilapidation there are clear signs of life here. The path to the porch is well worn, freshly cut fire wood is stacked next to a sharp hatchet, and a poorly tuned radio plays from inside the house.
The sun is too low to give you any option but to risk the house. You use the garage to cover your approach, and carefully sneak toward the back door. You find it unlocked, and as you push it open the hinges howl in protest. No-one comes. Inside, the house is furnished with old, worn, but clean furniture. Balding leather armchairs sit facing an unlit fireplace, and through an open door you see a double bed with a man's clothes lying on the ruffled sheets. You rush over and claim the clothes to regain some modesty. The old jeans are worn white at the knees, and your new tails require you to rip open the back of them, but there are shirts that fit you quite well and your new feet fit comfortably into the heavy brown boots under the bed.
As the last rays of the sun fade away and the deep, smothering darkness of night falls upon the house, you peer from the windows and wonder if the owner plans to return. Normally, in a night like this you would struggle to see more than a few paces from the porch, but your Kitsune form grants you sight far beyond that of a human. The trees are visible as grey shapes, their details hazy and unclear. Nothing moves between their trunks.
Satisfied you are safe, however temporarily, you search the rest of the house. The kitchen is stocked with tins and jars of preserved food, and the table holds a bowl of fruit that cannot have been put out more than two or three days ago. You help yourself to an apple as the sight of food makes your stomach growl. After preparing and eating a proper meal, all the while keeping your ears open for the sound of footsteps outside, or the creek of a door hinge, you consider where you are going to sleep tonight. Being caught asleep in a stranger's house, especially in this new form may cause problems, and so you decide to wait. As the clocks strike ten, you decide the owner is not likely to return until tomorrow. If you wake early, you should be able to slip out without them ever finding you. Retiring to the bedroom, you find and set a wind up alarm clock, and are fast asleep the moment your head touches the pillow.
Written by Jasan Quinn on 10 February 2015