Across the hall a bright yellow-tinted glow shone through the cracks and spaces of a closed door. The whirring sound of a hair dryer emanated throughout the hall from behind. Just beyond the door Vixie Valentine– an arctic fox girl– was actively preparing herself for a girls night out. With a towel wrapped around her body, she sat on a cushioned stool in front of a fancy vanity– complete with a white wood finish and globe light bulbs outlining the mirror– thoroughly drying her fur.

Having finished with her head, she focused on her arms and neck, moving downward– hastily shaking the dryer back and forth. As the moisture left her body, her fur transformed from a damp mess to a soft puff. Vixie had always loved her fur. Like most people of her kind, she had a long and fluffy coat– however unlike most of her kind, it didn’t take her an abundance of work to keep it nice. Thanks to her mother she had won the genetic lottery– in terms of fur and stature anyways– and rarely had to use special conditioners and sprays to keep her coat so soft.

After minutes more of drying she was back to her fluffy self. As the arctic fox turned off the dryer and placed it back into its drawer, the loud whirring sound was replaced by early 2000s pop music blasting from a portable speaker. Humming with the tunes, she picked up the towel she had dropped onto the floor while working on her fur and walked it over to the closet. Opening up the door, she tossed the damp towel into a basket hidden to the left of the entrance and walked further in to assess her outfit options for the evening. Tapping a foot to the rhythm of the music, she hummed in thought as she surveyed her wardrobe.

Everything directly to her right was out of the question. All of those outfits, being winter wear, wouldn’t do for a warm summer night. After another quick moment of glancing around the closet, her eyes locked onto a section just left of the middle rack in the back. Hanging there were multiple dresses and skirts, most of them various shades of light pink, but all of them short.

“It feels like a short dress kind of night.” she mused softly to herself.

Reaching for the hangers, she quickly flipped her fingers through each one– giving a brief look at each outfit. She flipped past a light pink dress with ruffles and a floral bird design, not feeling its vibe. Next to it was a white-based dress with red roses and a pink underside to it.

“Maybe…” she whispered, considering the outfit.

Moving on with her options she next looked over a lacey pink dress with hot pink roses. Shaking her head she quickly flipped past.

“Too lacey.”

After sifting through multiple more options, she finally stopped at one specific skirt. It was knee-length, silky pink pleated, and rather ordinary looking. However, with the right top, this skirt would be perfect– and Vixie knew exactly which top would pair well. Grabbing the hanger holding the skirt, she quickly turned to her left and ran her fingers over multiple hangers until she stopped on one. Lifting it up and out of its spot, she brought the top above the skirt and held them there for a moment as she considered the outfit pairing.

“Perfect!”

Momentarily hanging the top back up, she gently unclipped the skirt from its hanger and put it on as well as her undergarments. After a few moments of dressing and adjusting, she reached back for the adorable top and slowly pulled it over her head.

Hers would definitely be the stand-out outfit of the group this evening, although rarely was it not. Vixie’s fashion sense was unmatched in her friend group. Where others would dress appropriately for an occasion, she would dress with grace and style, accessories and colors coordinating from head to toe.

Finally finished adjusting her outfit, Vixie emerged from her closet and sat back down at her vanity where she opened multiple drawers, fiddling with various makeup cases. Picking up case after case, and tube after tube, she whispered no with each grab until she found the exact colors she was searching for. Setting the makeup she had chosen on top of the vanity, she opened up one of the tubes and began to work.

With a steady hand and focused gaze, she applied a hefty layer of mascara to her eyelashes, making them all the more visible against her white coat. Blinking repeatedly she closed up the mascara, and with swift movement returned the tube to its drawer. Vixie then popped open a small case, picked up a thin brush, and lightly dusted her eyelids with a light pink eyeshadow.
Still tapping her foot to the music, she softly sung with the music here and there as she continued to work on herself. Whizzing through the rest of the eyeshadow, and then the blush, she finished off her makeup with a light layer of pink lipstick– pressing her lips together firmly to blend it in.

Almost finished putting herself together, Vixie reached towards the back of her vanity table where her favorite jewelry sat. Grabbing the items, she carefully clipped on the rose gold heart-shaped necklace and stuck in the matching heart earrings. Satisfied with her appearance, Vixie hastily returned the rest of her cases and items to their proper drawers and stood up. Getting around her seat, she walked a few steps behind where she sat and stood in front of the wall next to her closet– where a full-length mirror hung. With a bright grin and a twirl of her skirt, she examined herself in the mirror with excitement.

Her blouse– an ivory colored, spaghetti-strap crop top with frilly sleeves– complimented her pink pleated skirt perfectly. Her heart necklace with earrings to match completed the look. Staring back at her was a beautiful arctic fox. No longer the girl she had been most of her life, but a woman– radiant and free.

Keeping the smile on her face she slipped into her pink open-toe heels, grabbed her clutch purse, and made her way out the bedroom. Her heels clicked rhythmically on the wooden floor as she walked through the hallway, down the stairs and to the front door.

As she prepared to exit the house, she turned her head to the left and looked into the living room just next to the entryway. Sitting on a lounge chair was Vixie’s father, quietly watching a documentary. He turned his head and met her gaze with a twinge of sadness and worry. Vixie gave him a warm smile and spoke lovingly.

“I’ll be back before 11, don’t worry.”

“Please keep yourself safe.” her father replied apprehensively, “Be observant… and make good decisions.”

Vixie kept her smile as her father spoke. Years ago she would have gotten defensive at his words– feeling like he was implying she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself or being safe. Years ago, her father likely would have forbid her to leave the house– or at least tried. Years ago when she was a moody teenager who didn’t understand anything outside of herself. Now she understood. She understood why he wished her to stay home, why he worried for her– as well as her sister– so consistently. He loved her, and feared losing her to the world.

She could just stay home. Go back into her room, get changed, and play a round of card games together like they used to. She could stay and ease his nerves. She [i]could[/i], but she also couldn’t.

Her father would always be everything to her– her number one– but she had to live her life. She longed to have the freedom to walk in the sun and go wherever the path of life took her– whether for one evening or a lifelong journey– and that freedom finally arrived to her and it was time to take that chance.

“I will, I promise.” she responded cheerfully, opening the front door “Bye, daddy! Love you!”

She wasn’t leaving for good, or even for long. She just wanted a night out with her girlfriends– a night of living life to the fullest. That's all she really wants after all– to have fun.