The Vixen's World: Part 1

Part 1 of an anonymous commission!

Still a tie on the poll! https://www.patreon.com/posts/45427347

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The sun was setting as Kyouki made her way into the clearing. Standing on her hind legs, the vixen slipped a bag off of her back and opened it, laying the contents out on a woven blanket. A short distance away, eyes were watching her. . . But she sensed them.  As she finished, she lifted her head and smiled, her tail twitching.
“I know you’re there, Mican.” She said calmy.
“Darn that nose of yours,” the human said as he stepped out from behind the trees. The two embraced, and the vixen licked his lips softly.
“Did you have any trouble getting away?” she asked softly, purring as the boy lovingly stroked her ears.
“No, I completed all my chores. My father thinks I’m gathering firewood,” Mican replied as he moved a hand down to caress her breasts. Kyouki shivered and moved back to all fours, her tail trembling. “I love you,” Mican said as he slipped out of his tunic and breeches. The vixen moaned softly in her throat as she lifted her tail, her scent filling the clearing.
“My mate, my todd,” Kyouki whined as Mican knelt behind her, his shaft growing rapidly. She felt his strong hands move to her hips and his cock nuzzle her thighs, and the two’s thoughts went back to how they had first met…
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As he walked through the woods, Mican felt the key in his hand, still unsure what to think of it.  This was his inheritance now.  Could it possibly lead to something he could remember his grandfather by?
The young man sighed, shaking his head.  He had to hope this was real . . . because he wanted something, anything left of his grandparent.
Looking up, Mican realized he had arrived at his destination.  In front of him was the cabin his grandfather had owned, the one he had gone to often as a young child.  His father had given him the key and said it would open “that room” in the house.  “You’ll know what room it is when you see it,” his father had told him.  “Trust me.”
And in truth, Mican did think he remembered what room in his grandfather’s cabin that his father could be talking about.  Since childhood, he always remembered a door in the cabin, one that he was always forbidden to open.  But his memories of exactly where it was located were vague at best.  Hopefully he could find it—and hopefully it wasn’t just a fleeting memory from when he was a kid. . .
The young man put the key inside his pocket and took a deep, steadying breath, preparing himself.  Then, he walked to the cabin and put a hand on the doorknob.  Part of him was scared to go inside, to embrace the fact that his grandfather was truly gone, and that this cabin was his now.  But he knew he had to accept that fact eventually.  And so, he entered the space, turning the doorknob and pushing the entrance open.
The door creaked as it slowly revealed the place he remembered so well as a young child: an old, dilapidated cabin, best described as a neatly organized mess.  He had seen that mess as full of treasures when he was younger, but now, he saw it as the train wreck it truly was.  Time to get to work.
He turned, picking up some old papers from off of the ground—and that was when he saw it.
Mican’s eyes widened.  Deep down one of the hallways, tucked away behind a few more stacks of papers, was the door he remembered.  Quickly, he put the bundle he was holding down and ran over to it, stepping over the mess in order to reach his destination.  When he got there, he stood in front of the door, staring at it.
It was just as he remembered.  A gold doorknob, seemingly untouched by dust, stared up at him, sitting steadily on the smooth cherrywood door.  Underneath the doorknob was a lock, also made of gold, and he had a feeling he knew how to open it. . .
The young man took the key from his pocket, staring at it once again.  Now that he was by the door, he noticed that the key had the same golden glow as the lock and knob.  It almost seemed . . . otherworldly. . .
Mican let out a deep breath.  Then, he reached down, and checked the knob: yep, the door was sealed tight.  So he put the key in the lock, and turned it.
There was a loud, echoing /click/, one that filled the room and made a shiver run down his spine.  He tried the knob again, and this time, it opened.
He put the key back in his pocket and walked inside of the door, closing it behind him.  When he turned to examine the room, Mican was faced with a surprising sight.
He was not, in fact, in a room at all!  He was in some kind of forest, filled with fall leaves and white trees.  The sky above him was a purple shade, with two moons floating overhead.
Could this be . . . the otherworld?  Mican remembered his grandfather telling tales of it when he was a boy, and he had described it similarly to this, as his memory recalled.  His grandparent had told him such strange tales, sure.  But could some of them possibly be true?
No, of course they couldn’t be.  He had simply stepped outside of the cabin, through an alternate exit.  Everything here was explainable.  Now he just had to turn around and get back to—
“Mican?”
The haunting female voice startled him, and Mican looked forward.  To his surprise, a yellow orange fox was standing not a few yards away, its large tail twitching in the breeze.  It was standing on its hind legs, so he could see its large breasts.  The young man blushed.
“Mican,” the fox asked, “Is that you?”