Hey! Really loved your owl story, was wondering if you could do a fatal scenario in which like - the pred is comforting the dying prey, and is remorseful after their finished off?
The owl story mentioned above ;}
Content: soft vore, fatal vore, digestion, unwilling chipmunk prey, reluctant then remorseful fox pred
Hungry. So hungry. The fox limped along through the autumn forest with their tail trailing behind. Pain gnawing at their belly was the only sensation greater than the throbbing ache of their paws. Their nose was dry, each breath sucked through burning it. They had long since given up sniffing for prey. Pricked ears only picked up the skeletal rattling of bare branches high above and the rushing of wind.
The cold snap had been unexpected. All the prey had stopped their industrious gathering of food to hide deep in their burrows with what little they had. As a predator, the fox had no such luxury. They had been scavenging for days. Shriveled berries had been the biggest meal, and that was days ago.
A minute rustle made the fox freeze in their tracks. Their tail lifted, just barely, off the leaves. Ears swiveled towards the sound, straining with desperate hope.
There it was again! They sniffed hopefully, ignoring the stinging bite of the frigid air. A warm scent wafted along the bitter breeze, surely something alive.
Instinctively the fox dropped low. Paw after paw they crept forward towards the tantalizing aroma. Amber eyes picked up the jerky movement of some prey animal. A thin tail flicked up into the air, then the creature sat up. A big round head and a hunched back covered in stripes: a chipmunk! It was stuffing something into its cheeks, then it dropped down to search for more.
The poor thing must be hungry too. Desperate to surface at night to forage. A minor pang pricked the fox's heart; they were the same.
Well, not quite. The fox leaped, one black gloved paw slamming down on the hapless rodent. It squealed in terror and scrabbled to try and escape. Its tiny body writhed and limbs flailed, but the fox held it fast.
Their mouth watered to be so close to a decent meal. The nutty scent of it filled their long snout. Through the bliss, the ache in their heart sharpened. Their voice came out as soft as it could, "Please, don't struggle. You have so little energy already, don't waste it. Try not to be afraid," they pleaded.
Whether the critter heard them or not, they couldn't be sure. It struggled vainly, its heart fluttering like a trapped bird. Every little twitch was so vivid beneath their paw.
The fox swallowed hard, then opened their jaws. Saliva stretched into thin strands before snapping and dripping out. A wet glob landed in the chipmunk's fur, and it was freezing cold by the time the fox's tongue hit it.
One expert lap scooped it up into their maw. A renewed flurry of movement exploded from the rodent, but their jaws held fast. As their prey exhausted itself, they gave a few half-hearted chews. It wasn't enough to do anything but squeeze it a little.
The fox closed its eyes and gulped hard. Their throat did the rest, dragging that chipmunk down to their belly. The poor creature fluttered in their gut, no doubt already beginning to burn away.
They sat down, and looked at their thin belly. There was no outward sign of their recent meal, but inside their stomach already felt relief. They groomed it with small whines, and whispered, "I'm so sorry little thing. It'll be over soon, I'm sure. Just, fade into the darkness, or wherever you go."
The fox shuffled off to a sheltered spot beneath some arching tree roots. Leaves had gathered there and made a passable nest. Flopping down, they gave their belly another long glance. Grooming it again, they could feel the firmness of a full stomach. Another soft whine escaped, "Thank you little one. And I'm sorry. So sorry. I needed you as surely as you needed those hard kernels; I know now what it is to be hungry and afraid. Now I'm alive, and you're gone." Their head dropped into their paws, "Not fair, is it."