Pax

by Sara Pennypacker

What is war? Grey paused. There is a disease that strikes foxes sometimes. It causes them to abandon their ways, to attack strangers. War is a human sickness like this.

“So which is it? You going back for your home or for your pet?” “They’re the same thing,” Peter said, the answer sudden and sure, although a surprise to him.

“Oh, let me tell you, feelings are all dangerous. Love, hope … Ha! Hope! You talk about dangerous, eh? No, you can’t avoid any of them. We all own a beast called anger. It can serve us: many good things come of anger at bad things; many unjust things are made just. But first we all have to figure out how to civilise it.”

“Wait, Peter! You have to understand. It’s my duty.” Peter pointed to the fox on the ridge. He thumped his chest so hard, it hurt. “That’s mine.”