Dustin didn't approach, simply standing at the doorway and speaking gently: "It's alright, I won't hurt you. If you want to eat, you can come anytime." The little white fox continued to stare at him warily, its amber eyes glimmering with an intelligent light in the dim surroundings. Dustin backed out and retrieved more food from the refrigerator. A few slices of ham, a small bowl of milk—he placed them in a corner of the kitchen, then returned to the living room and pretended to read, while keeping watch on the kitchen from the corner of his eye. After about half an hour, the little white fox finally limped out of the storage room. It first surveyed its surroundings warily, and only after confirming that Dustin posed no threat did it quickly snatch the food and scurry back to the storage room. Over the following days, Dustin left food in the kitchen corner every day—sometimes sliced fruit, sometimes cooked chicken, sometimes specially purchased pet treats. The li...