I often walk the golf course near my house during the wee hours of the night during or after a snowstorm. Several times I've crossed a fresh trail of fox tracks and slow to a snail's pace as I follow it. I've spotted the culprit on several occasions and we end up starring each other down until the fox tires of the game. I never do. It's not wilderness but it's not life threatening either.
We'll be in the woods and visiting friends on the quad later.
After I clean up what's left of our screenhouse. Total roof collapse and the snow-filled center is resting on a glass topped table.