#phoxy

He felt… warm.

Mort didn’t quite understand it, himself. He knew he liked Foxy a lot, already. After all, he was the whole reason he wanted to go to Freddy’s in the first place. He’d had a fascination with pirates already, so seeing the Pirate Fox pop up onto the television had piqued his interest.

What he hadn’t expected was to be so… entranced.

Mort had sat himself down near the back, behind the other kids. He had a hard time seeing now, but he’d been so… well, scared of all of the other animatronics, that he preferred to keep his distance. After all, they were loud, and moved funny. There was simply something unnerving about them. But now, he wished he he’d sat closer. He wanted to be right up next to him. But no- he had to peek up through the shoulders of kids twice his age.

Foxy is deep in the midst of a story, recounting an exciting tale of a battle with rival pirates. It was nothing like the corny pirate jokes that he told on the television- No, it was vivid and enrapturing, and kept Mort sitting forward and listening intently. He loves it- Loves it.

Loves the way he swung his sword when he spoke. Loves the way he laughs. Loves his stories, loves… everything.

He wanted to come back here EVERY day.

Ah, but it can’t last forever. Mort’s heart sinks as the story comes to an end- No, it couldn’t end. It shouldn’t end. He doesn’t want to leave the cove- But before he can get too sad, Foxy points his sword upwards.

“ARRR, now, whi-i-ich of ye’ landlubbers wish to join Foxy’s crew?” the fox calls, looking over the small group of kids. Big kids raise their hands and call out in excitement, pointing at themselves or waving both hands around right away. Mort, on the other hand, feels his heart jump to his throat. He raises his hand gingerly, shaking lightly. Oh gosh- why is he raising his hand? He’s so scared. And there’s no way he’d be called-

The sword comes, pointing directly at Mort. “Ye wee lad in the back! Come up to the front!” Mort locks up briefly, mild panic setting in, before forcing himself to totter to his feet and up to the front, next to Foxy. The child barely reached the Fox’s hip when stood beside him; just being near him is overwhelming.

“Whats yer na-a-ame, lad?” The pirate asks, his voice booms and Mort felt like he might be knocked back just by the sound. He opens his mouth, stuttering as he answers. “M-morty…” There is a hushed laughter among the older kids- perhaps it was at the way he stuttered, or maybe because of how young and small he was. Either way, the giggles send anxiety through him.

Foxy sets his hook on Morts shoulder, which, somehow, is comforting. “Well, Morty, i-i-if youre goin’ ta join me crew, you gotta learn to sword fight! And ye-e-er Cap’n ‘ll teach ye how.” His sword comes up again dramatically, then points at a small bin filled with wooden toy swords. “Fetch yer’self a sword, laddy.”

Mort does so without hesitation, the excitement of all of this was melting away his fear. He’d be a pirate, a real pirate, with Foxy! A real member of his crew. The swords in the bin are a tad too big for him, but he lifts it anyway. Not too heavy, of course, but awkwardly sized for a kid just short of kindergarten. He returns to Foxy’s side, looking up at him with glimmering eyes and waiting eagerly for instruction.

“Alright, lad- first, pu-u-u-ut up your sword like this!” he commands, angling the sword across his chest. Mort imitates him to the best of his ability. “Good, lad! Tha’s how ye block an attack! Now, ye thru-u-ust forwards!” the tip of the sword jolts forwards. A grin spread across Morts face, giggling a bit at the praise. With a new confidence, Mort copies again, pushing the sword out in front of him clumsily. It’s a wonder he didn’t drop the sword completely.  “Now! Swi-i-ipe it to the side!” he swings out to the side, looking to Mort, who follows his instruction.

“Very good, lad!” he booms. “Yer a proper pi-i-i-irate now! Welcome to me crew.” Mort is soaring, he might cry with how happy he is. Not in front of all the other kids, though- that’d be embarrassing. “Now take yer sword, and run on back to yer parents- and give yer Cap’n a visit next time you come to the Cove!”

Mort looks out and above the kids, seeing his mother and father standing near the back. Mom holds a Foxy plushy by her waist, smiling warmly at him and waving with her free hand. Dad looks pleased too, or maybe amused, but theres an easy smile on his face. Mort looks back up at Foxy, before hugging his leg briefly. Without another word, he runs off, holding the sword tightly and racing to his mothers arms.