There were recent reports that a family offilius vulpis—commonly known fern foxes—had taken residence nearby. That was exactly where we were headed, with plans to document their behavior if we were lucky enough to spy one.
Rare and tremendously elusive, fern foxes lived in burrows beneath the trees in marshes, feeding on the fish inhabiting the shallow pools.
“Aaric,” I said, transitioning into teaching mode. “When were fern foxes discovered?”
Aaric looked over his shoulder from where he walked near the front of our group. “Only about two years ago.”
“Correct. And do you know the story of how they were found?”
“It was a botanist, actually. He was studying a particular species of fern and stumbled upon them. Their fur imitates those ferns for camouflage purposes and there happened to be a fox right in front of him…hiding in plain sight.”
“Fantastic,” I said, smiling.
Sylvie turned to Aaric, asking him a question, and they began a discussion about how the young were reared, what the foxes ate, and their defenses against predators.
“You never stop, do you?” Liam asked, striding up next to me.
“Stop what?”
“Working.”
“We are on a work sponsored trip, not some frivolous vacation.”
He thumped the brim of my hat. “When was the last time you took a vacation?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
“Uh huh. Exactly what I thought.”
“I don’t have time to take a vacation.”
Liam pulled a leaf off a tree and twirled it in his hand. “Sure you do. What about when the students are off for the holidays?”
I sucked on my teeth. During the holidays, I spent time with Emberly and Rosamund, avoiding my mother as much as possible, and usually had some project I was in the middle of. The campus was quiet during the break…Peaceful. I savored that time to work. But I didn’t tell him that.
“I’m busy during the holidays, too.” I dabbed the sweat from my brow with the collar of my shirt. “Doyoutake vacations?”
“Whenever I can, actually. Especially during school breaks.”
“You don’t visit your family during the holidays?” I asked.
“Not if I can help it.”
“I’m sure they miss you.”
“They don’t,” he said, kneeling as he swiped a bright purple feather from the ground, inspecting it. “Yes, this will do nicely,” he muttered, shoving it in his pocket.
“What was that?” I asked, glancing to where the feather had disappeared.
“What was what?”
I waved my hand. “The feather thing.”
“Oh, uh…” He looked a tad chagrined. “For my collection.”
He lifted a low hanging vine for me to walk under. “Collection?”
“Yes, well. We all have our quirks, don’t we? You have your…well, your whole thing, and?—”
