Foxes are small-to-medium-sized, omnivorous mammals belonging to several genera of the family Canidae. Foxes are slightly smaller than a medium-size domestic dog, with a flattened skull, upright triangular ears, a pointed, slightly upturned snout, and a long bushy tail (or brush).
Twelve species belong to the monophyletic group of Vulpes genus of "true foxes". Approximately another 25 current or extinct species are always or sometimes called foxes; these foxes are either part of the paraphyletic group of the South American foxes, or of the outlying group, which consists of bat-eared fox, gray fox, and island fox. Foxes are found on every continent except Antarctica. By far the most common and widespread species of fox is the red fox (Vulpes vulpes) with about 47 recognized subspecies. The global distribution of foxes, together with their widespread reputation for cunning, has contributed to their prominence in popular culture and folklore in many societies around the world. The hunting of foxes with packs of hounds, long an established pursuit in Europe, especially in the British Isles, was exported by European settlers to various parts of the New World.
There was a Pegasus with jet-black fur
And the paths it passed by were destroyed,
rotten and burned
It says: I see the world is covered with white
I am jet-black spot
No matter how much I cry,
I get white wings just in my dreams
Eating nice ones, I lurk in a hollow
A man came
His hand was so warm
His shadow whispered:
blac kspot can be an art on the white canvas
Chorus:
The kngiht in dusky blood coloured armour is
on my back
I unfolded my black wings
Scattering wind that makes lands decay
I will fly away for destruction
Is this my will?
Did God want me to die peacefully,
obeying providence and morality?
I see the world is covered with white
With full gallop above I ate men at random
My master turned his head and
looked at scribbled black line
Feeling my heart was closing, I look back too
Without hesistation
The shadows whispered again
Oh, happy I am, let's give a toast to us with wine
Hack the heads rolling over there
I'll cut my arm myself
Chorus:
The shadows whispered for the last that
God will decide where's
the end of line for us
I'm gonna look up at drawings from hell,
will you be above or bottom?
Chorus:
Before my knows I was crying held by fire
And I shook the load off which is
turned to dust
Again and again I flapped to go back to black night sky
Put fire on, run up to above