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“A Well-Deserved Rest” by SakaraFox

12,000 years ago, deep in the forests of pine and birch, a young fox stands over his first big-game kill, pride filling his heart.

Today’s story is “A Well-Deserved Rest” by SakaraFox, who is an avid historic-fiction author who spends his weekends working on steam locomotives, and you can find more of his stories on FurAffinity.

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

Transcript
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You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

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I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

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and Today’s story is

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“A Well-Deserved Rest”

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by SakaraFox, who is an avid historic-fiction author

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who spends his weekends working on steam locomotives,

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and you can find more of his stories on FurAffinity.

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“A Well-Deserved Rest”

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by SakaraFox The blood-soaked stone speartip was raked over the grass,

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staining it a deep crimson. Kuveli’s deft grey paws flipped it over and repeated the process,

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cleaning the tool with two brisk strokes.

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Kuveli was a fox-boy of ten summers,

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his fur filthy with churned earth and spatters of vibrant crimson.

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A patchwork skirt was wrapped around his waist,

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flapping gently in the breeze.

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It was fastened over his shoulder with a length

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of shaggy rawhide,

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tucked under a necklace of teeth

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which clattered around his neck.

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The fox-boy rose from his haunches,

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resting the spear on his shoulder.

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He took a deep breath,

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the air was thick with moisture,

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the morning dew coating his burning lungs.

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His heart was still thrumming in his chest

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and he could still hear blood rushing in his ears.

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He stumbled as he tried to turn,

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his legs wobbling,

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his muscles searing with pain.

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He planted the butt of the spear into the dirt,

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resting his feather-like weight on the tool.

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The little fox turned on his spear,

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the stench of fresh,

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hot blood filling his nostrils,

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a strand of drool dripping from his lips.

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Before him lay a mighty red deer,

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its thorny antlers almost as big as the little fox

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and sharp enough to run him through.

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Thankfully it lay still,

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its carcass cooling in the chilly air,

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and a growing crimson stain on its neck.

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His big brother, Sakara,

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was crouched in front of the deer.

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He ran a paw along its neck,

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leaning in close to inspect the point of entry.

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His big brother resembled a birch tree,

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tall and skinny, his rib cage showing through his thick,

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unwashed coat of fur.

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He wore a pair of well-fitted horsehide leggings

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and a loincloth made from hare’s fur,

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with a great fur cloak on his back.

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A woad-blue tattoo covered the length of his right arm,

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and a tuft of fur was tied

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-off and dangling from his chin.

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“You might just have the makings of a killer, little bud.”

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Sakara chuckled, patting the deer’s neck

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and turning around with a proud smile stretched across his muzzle.

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“Might? I hunt rabbits for our supper all the time.”

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Kuveli boasted in an exaggerated tone,

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chuckling hoarsely

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as he dragged his footpaws towards his big brother,

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who raised a bony finger in return. “Ah,

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but this is your first deer hunt,

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and a red deer no less.”

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The older fox beamed,

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his voice full of pride.

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He could not overstate how he felt,

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knowing his little brother was learning so fast.

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Knowing that he could care for himself

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if anything happened.

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“This isn’t a rabbit hunt,

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your first big game is special.”

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He insisted, patting the ground next to him and inviting his little brother to take a seat.

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Kuveli began to feel that same sense of pride.

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This was his first time hunting big game,

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his chance to prove he was more than just a little boy who could take pot shots at squirrels with a sling.

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He felt that pride

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welling-up in his chest,

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and an equally prideful smile crept onto his muzzle.

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Kuveli let himself fall upon the deer’s bulk,

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crumpling into a furred heap like a brittle,

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elderly oak tree whose roots had finally given way.

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The deer’s carcass was still warm,

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the musk still thick,

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it made his stomach rumble.

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“You feeling alright, little bud?”

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His big brother asked,

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putting a paw on the little fox’s shoulder.

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Kuveli lazily raised his head from the new-found bed of fur

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to see Sakara looking down at him,

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an eyebrow raised.

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He yawned and buried his face in the deer’s carcass.

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“I could sleep until the leaves turn orange.”

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The little fox mumbled through mouthfuls of matted deer fur.

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His big brother smirked,

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unwrapping his cloak and spreading it over his arm and towards the little fox.

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He tucked it over Kuveli’s shoulder and tugged on the boy’s shoulder,

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inviting him to cuddle

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-up and keep out of the chilly morning breeze.

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“Get comfy then, at this rate our deer’s gonna take us until nightfall to butcher.”

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Sakara sighed, looking over the deer carcass.

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After a few more tugs

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his little brother relented,

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groggily rising from the deer

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and planting himself against his big brother’s chest.

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His sensitive ears picked

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-up the rhythmic thump-thump

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of his big brother’s heart.

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A sound that filled him with a sense of safety and warmth.

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He wanted to curl-up here for as long as he could,

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his sore muscles seeming to fade

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with each moment he was embraced.

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“Can’t we do it tomorrow.” He grumbled,

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closing his eyes and pressing himself tighter against his big brother.

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Sakara sighed, releasing the little fox,

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who huffed and sat-up straight,

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pulling the cloak tight over his shoulder.

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“I know you’re a sensible little lad,

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but what do we owe this deer for taking its life?”

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Sakara cocked his head to the side,

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putting on a half-heartedly stern face.

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Kuveli frowned, he knew all about respecting the spirits of their prey and making sure the deer’s spirit could find its way,

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but big brother was right.

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If they left it, the deer’s spirit would be trapped here,

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scared and confused,

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its soul bound to a husk that some careless hunters

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had not bothered to make good use of.

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“Not one single bit wasted.”

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Kuveli sighed, putting a paw on the deer’s chest

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and running his fingers through its fur.

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Still warm, he thought,

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it must taste good.

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Sakara turned and unsheathed a painted antler knife from his belt.

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He put his paw on Kuveli’s

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as he pressed the knife to the deer’s stomach

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and began the process of butchering their kill.

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With one clean movement,

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he slit the carcass open

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and reached the knife inside the deer’s fat belly.

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After a few moments of rummaging,

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Sakara found what he was looking for.

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He could not see, but this was no obstacle,

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the anatomy of a deer was as familiar to him

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as his own two paws.

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He cut the organ free

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and wrenched it from the deer.

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Kuveli watched with a hungry glare

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as his big brother offered him the deer’s raw liver.

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“This is your kill,

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enjoy it. Take the deer’s strength to replenish your own.”

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His big brother ordered,

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and Kuveli was more than happy to oblige.

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He took the liver carefully,

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looking it over. This was

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important, to take the first bite

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of his first proper kill,

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to make it his own.

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“Unless you want an angry deer spirit giving you bad dreams and scaring away its kin.”

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Sakara smirked, folding his arms impatiently.

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Kuveli let out an ugly snort,

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stifling it in his arm.

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His stomach growled again,

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he couldn’t wait another second.

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The little fox tore into the liver, still warm and steaming in the cold air.

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The sweet taste of hot flesh

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filled his muzzle

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in child-sized bites.

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It felt like only a matter of seconds before the liver was gone.

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“At least living with a ghost deer wouldn’t stink as bad.”

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Kuveli joked with a mouthful of liver,

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spitting half-chewed chunks at his big brother.

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“Oh yeah?” Sakara turned-up his nose at the little fox.

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“Just you wait until you have to crawl inside there and fetch me its intestines.”

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The big fox gestured to the slit he’d made in the deer’s belly,

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a smug smile plastered on his muzzle.

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“It’s no worse than when you rub deer poo into your fur before a hunt.”

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Kuveli retorted,

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then gulped loudly,

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finishing his snack.

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He rubbed his muzzle,

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smearing deers blood over his lips.

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Sakara let-out a raucous laugh,

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wrapping one arm around his belly to stop his sides from splitting.

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With the other arm, he grabbed his little brother,

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pulling the little fox into a tight, smelly hug

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and pressing their foreheads together. “Ah,

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I couldn’t have asked for a better little brother.”

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This was “A Well-Deserved Rest”

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by SakaraFox, read for you by Khaki,

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your faithful fireside companion.

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You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,

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or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

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Thank you for listening

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to The Voice of Dog

About the Podcast

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The Voice of Dog
Furry stories to warm the ol' cockles, read by Rob MacWolf and guests. If you have a story that would suit the show, you can get in touch with @VoiceOfDog@meow.social on Mastodon, @voiceofdog.bsky.social on Blue Sky, or @Theodwulf on Telegram.

About your host

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Khaki