When the fox moves, he goes still, blinking down at him. The cold nose nudging his chin prompts a soft squeak in the back of his throat, then a tiny giggle. "Um...okay. That tickles a little."

"You gonna let me be your friend, then? I'll get you somethin' to eat, too. Won't try to keep you penned up, but maybe you'll stay close by while you get better."

Rising back up is difficult; he has to hold the fox with one arm while levering himself up with the other, but he manages to get up at last with a soft grunt. "I'll come back and pick up the trap later. Bring it to Forrest. Damn poachers."

"Let's go home, beautiful. You like scrambled eggs? Apples and honey?"