This for Rochelle Wishoff-Fields’ 100 word Friday Fictioneers challenge.
I must protest most strongly at the tone used in yesterday’s piece on the assassination of hunt master Laurence Faultinroy (Feral Foxes Fang Faulti).
I can reassure you that Lord Faultinroy died with a smile on his face; after all he was someone who believed in nature, red in tooth and claw, and who hated the idea of dying peacefully in bed.
As one who has lost two vixens and eight cubs to the hunt, I was part of the panel deciding on Faulti’s fate and can confirm that his sentence was not given lightly.
(Name and den provided)