The bountiful colours of spring blended seamlessly into a halcyon summer of luscious greens and cloudless azure. As butterflies flitted haphazardly, the foxes hid themselves away, scared to be seen as pitiful as they were in contrast to the gloriousness of all that bloomed around them. Yet there was one who would always utter kind words of how beauty was not the be all and end all of life. He taught them to enjoy the small pleasures, to forget appearances and to immerse oneself in the moment, reminding them that it is better to enjoy what one does have rather than pine for what one does not.
Soon the foxes ceased to slink through the woods, but flitted as freely as the butterflies did. They chased rabbits with abundant enthusiasm and savoured the taste of their hard-earned prizes. So filled with the pleasures of life they became that they barely noticed as the lushness of their pelts returned, growing with a richness like that of newly turned soil ready for the emergence of life anew. And so the one who sowed the seeds reaped the rewards; no longer was Gerald an outcast or pariah but one of many equals, both a peer and a friend to all.
Through autumn and winter and into spring once more the world turned and as it did there was Gerald, lying warmly in his den watching with attentive pride as between him and a vixen snuggled a litter of newly born cubs, each with fur as beautiful as the spring into which they had been born.
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