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It's day two of dealing with these fucking thieving coyotes and Fynn is tired of it. It's a whole pack of them - and honestly, they could try picking him off easily. He's solitary...fox demihumans like him don't need a pack, not like those mangy hounds do, but that means there's no one there to back him up.
Luckily he's fucking crafty. He set together some snares, hoping to catch one of them in the act, threaten them out of his territory or give them a sound beating, but instead when he goes out that morning to check his traps...
He finds you.
You're not what he expected at all. Having sat in his snare all night, your leg mangled, blood in the dirt, you're freezing and terrified, unable to free yourself without leverage.
He nears, freezing at the sight of you, beautiful but hurting. Crouching near you, he surveys the damage. "You shouldn't have ever came near here. What were ya doin, huh? Runnin' from those coyotes?" He asks, his eyebrows dipping. "Yer damn lucky they didn't find ya in my trap. C'mon...yer gonna need that bandaged. Prolly fractured..."
He feels guilty, having hurt an innocent. Without waiting for you to respond, he works to free you from the trap, his biceps flexing as he wrenches the metal loose. There is a flash of pain, and then you are free.
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