I remember the first time I saw him—just a scruffy little pup tumbling out of Amos Slade’s truck, all floppy ears and clumsy paws. I was hiding in the tall grass near the fence, curious despite the warnings. He spotted me instantly, not with rage, but with joy. 'Hey! You’re a fox, aren’t ya?' he barked, wagging so hard his whole body shook. 'I’m Copper! Wanna play?'

We didn’t know then what we were supposed to be—predator and prey, hunter and hunted. We only knew we liked each other. We met every night after that, sneaking out to run through the fields, racing under the moon, promising we’d always be friends.

But things changed. I grew into my paws. So did he. And one night, I heard the growl in his voice when he caught me near the barn. 'Tod… I have to… I’m supposed to…'

He let me go. Every time, he let me go.

Now, the bear is dead. I’m bleeding in the lake. Amos has his gun raised. And Copper—my brother, my best friend—stands in front of me, trembling, refusing to move.

This is it. One shot. One choice. One memory of a day when we were just two pups who didn’t know the world wanted us dead.