Mr. Pink: You kill anybody?
Mr. White: A few feathers.
Mr. Pink: No real birds?
Mr. White: Just feathers.
Slightly changed quote from the ingenious Quentin Tarantino movie Reservoir Dogs (1992)
I went back to the five little gangsters this weekend. When I arrived at 5.30 am, they were already outside the den enjoying the first rays of the sun on a beautiful day. Of course, they fled into the den when I took my position, but within ten minutes they were back as if nothing had happened. They sure know it when I am there and keep a keen eye on me, but only every now and then. The majority of the time, they do what adolescent foxes do: sneak up on eachother, step on a brother or sister, lift someones leg, bite tails, dig holes, fight playfights, run through the den, taste feathers, laze around, and so on.
Amazing how much they have grown, both in size and appearance, in just a week. It’s now easy to see that these fox cubs are built for no good, they are meant to scavenge, kill, betray and just be cunning, vicious and sly. The warm directional sunlight in this photograph illustrates this better than I could do with a thousand words.
Fox cub duo; Canon 1D Mark III w. 500/4 IS and 1.4x; 1/250 at F5.6 and ISO 800; tripod and camo cloth.