wateяship down | one on one

[aero ❥]

It's true, I'm looking for a one on one WITH RABBITS DFJLKSDFJLKGHS. But, not just any rabbits - rabbits of the Watership Down world. I was hoping someone else on Anarchy had read it. A classic novel, if you haven't read it yet, I desperately urge you to get your hands on it. I think many of you would enjoy it, since it is like Warriors but older and more maturely written. It's a personal favorite of mine, and I've read it about three times, currently working on my fourth. xD It's also a movie! You can watch it on youtube.
Anyway, about the one on one. I would love if more than one person was interested, but I'm not trying to turn Anarchy from predator to prey, so naturally we would have to find somewhere else to roleplay with multiple people. As for the roleplay itself, I've got that covered.

setting

Our journey would begin not quite in Watership Down, but in England in a new, wondrous territory. Back in the 1960's-70's, when man was simpler and nature still timidly wild.


left to right

The Town A small town, about 600 people. Townsfolk don't often come into the countryside. Town is neat with fresh green lawns and shady streets.

The Hills Separating the hills from the town is a field of heather. Like smooth bumps they rise and fall, covered with short green grass.

Mulbury Lane Cutting through the hills the windy dirt path is often just referred to as 'the lane'. Connects Castway Farm to the town. In early spring it sometimes floods out.

Castway Farm An older farm that has a small amount of livestock and focuses on growing crops such as beans and corn. Known to have three cats that live in the barn.

The Garden A medium sized garden stocked full of lettuce and carrots, sometimes the rare turnip. Guarded by wire fence, though the gate is loose and sometimes sags, leaving space by the hinges.

Farmland Fields Expanses of beans and corn.

Gurlandshore Warren Separated from the farm by moor and a small stream branch, the warren sits on a sunny bank against a treeline. Long abandoned, the tunnels are in disrepair. Deserted for unknown reasons.

Heatherwood Forest The other border to the town, this dense forest gets it's name from the massive heather field on the northwest side.

3 Trees Three big Beech trees stand lonely on the south side of the heavy stream, overlooking empty moor.

The Burned Forest A few short years ago this small forest caught on fire, leaving a charred skeleton in it's place. Small baby pines are shooting up here and there from the ashes as life returns slowly but surely.

Northface Hill A large hill caught between the stream and a small brook that branches off. On the base are old scraps dug for anonymous reasons. Probably created by some wandering hlessil.

Keeper's Copse On the opposite side of the branching brook, a small, lightly forested patch of woodland. Commonly referred to as 'the copse'.

Keeper's Meadow Planted nearly in the center of the copse is a lush meadow with sweet grass scattered by plenty of dandelions and cowslips. Commonly referred to as 'the meadow'.

Keeper's Warren Centered around a magnificent oak, this warren is on the edge of the wood facing open fields, protected and secluded by huge clusters of bramble. Commonly referred to as 'the warren'.

North Gate A devilish thistle of thick brambles. On the inside is a small pond which can sometimes attract elil.

Bramble Pass The space between the two 'gates' which allows safe passage.

South Gate The southern thistle of brambles which is just as vicious as the north. Sits against River-line Wood.

Bone Tree A dead oak bleached white by age, a landmark that you are near the river.

Sandy Hollow A warm secluded spot under the looming Bone Tree. Not visited often.

River-line Wood A sparse wood connected to the Heatherwood Forest that grows beside the river.

The Great River A roaring nightmare of water that has no safe passage over, therefore the land beyond is unknown. Commonly referred to as 'the river'.

plots

It's optional how the story would start, but I was thinking the warren wouldn't be established yet, so the roleplay would have depth later on. (Yes, I would like for this to be long and rather committed.) So maybe starting as hlessil (wandering usually male rabbits) from beyond the hills? Either way they need to know at least some of their surroundings before they establish the warren in Keeper's Copse, for future purposes.

Young bucks from possibly the same warren, why they left could be discussed later. Maybe they first find Gurlandshore Warren, thinking it a blessing that it was empty but something happens/they decide to move on. Coming to Castway farm maybe they encounter the cats, and make a thrifty raid on the garden, escaping narrowly through the fields? Seeing the Burned Forest and resting up in the old scraps in Northface, they meet some new characters, wandering hlessil like themselves that maybe have a doe, and they join together. Crossing into Keeper's Copse they're attacked by an elil (predator) and someone is killed, giving them thoughts of moving on until they find the place where the warren would be, and know they have to stay?

Just a journey plan to get there. Then finding does and starting the warren would need plotting, thought I have future ideas such as a warren of female dominant rabbits moves into the abandoned Garlandshore warren, so many possibilities with that.
A savage group of rabbits snared on being the perfect, most strongest warren Frith (Rabbit's higher power) had even seen. Maybe they move in somewhere close, who knows. Details on that group.
And maybe a quest to go across the Great River, possibly because some stranger was washed up on their side and needed to get home.
I could go on for days. xP

Hopefully SOMEONE out there will help me fulfill this, I would eternally love you, if I already didn't. (: If you're skeptical, PM me for more info, look it up, read the book, or watch the movie. My best advice is to read the book, if you've the time. It wont let you down. (:

[aero ❥]

tap tap tap The rasping of the shed door carried in the wind, filling Ashwood with unrest. He crouched low, shivering as another cold wind found it's way between the barn and wooden fence. The tall, overgrown grass provided little shelter, the longing to creep into a burrow safe under the earth heckling him like sparrows. Ashwood was a peculiar fellow - fur ashen and where there should have been white was silver. His ears, thick, were charcoal grey and stood high above his head as he listened, alert. He had a bit of weight to him, but his hind legs weren't very strong and his head was awfully narrow. More or less he was alright, and tended to enjoy quiet feeds and a good game of bobstones. Level-headed most of the time, the approaching night was gaining on his nerves. "Frithrah! Where is Foxglove? That damn fool!" He thought, dark eyes searching the farmyard until the whites began to show. It was a few, long moments later he spotted movement off by the haystacks. The familiar sandy brown of the large buck was a relief, for a cat would only cause Ashwood to further panic, and possibly go tharn. The new rabbit raised, up on his hind legs to check his surroundings before he made a mad dash for his grey friend. Slipping up beside him, his hulking mass made the space suddenly small. He ran his forepaws (Though a rabbit has no pads.) over his face a few times. His eyes and below his nose were outlines in an off-white, a queer fold of extra skin - dark brown in color - ran over the wide bridge of his nose. When he finally looked up at Ashwood, the cunning gleam was back in his eyes.

It was a silent communication, and both rabbits hesitantly lolloped under the fence, running off towards the hills as one overtook the other. Once in a quiet shallow out of the wind, both nibbled at some grass until Foxglove finally spoke. "A nasty business it was," Ashwood looked up, but then returned to the short grass. "But we've nothing more to worry about. They were in the shed, well gone if I do say so." "What killed them, you think?" It was a timid question, the ashen buck didn't like the talk of death. "Maybe the Black Rabbit himself, how am I to know?" It was true enough, and they spoke no more about it. What was in that shed were three strung up rabbits, two bucks and one doe. They had been stealing from the garden, and were living in the fields. Causing trouble for everyone, Foxglove himself had seen their bodies carried to the shed, and it was their duty (And part their curiosity.) to see if the three were the same troublemakers. Them and another buck, Milkwort, were on farm duty for their band. Woodruff, said Captain of this band, made all of their lives much harder than they need be. This band was nothing more then a traveling group of hlessil, looking to find some new promise land that was no where but the head of the captain. He had good talk, but many were growing tired of empty words.

"Let's be getting back to Milkwort, shall we? I'm sure he's quite lonely and wondering what the cats have made of us by now." Milkwort was a lively young buck that was entirely new to any travel and situation, and seemed to need a lot of reassurance. Foxglove and Ashwood had been dismayed when they found out he was the third member to their assignment, but now they didn't much care, as messing with him had become a good pass time. Ashwood readily agreed, since the rolling hills had no cover, and it was unnatural for there to be no place to hide in a pinch. Bounding up the crest that overlooked the farm at a safe distance, they were met by a appalling smell that stopped them in their tracks. "What in Frith's name is that stench?" Ashwood cried, wrinkling his nose in disgust. " Smells like Milkwort has up and died on us." Foxglove retorted, with the makings of a joke but tone not at all funny. They hopped slowly nearer to the source - a black bird lay dead on the gentle hill's summit. "Rather unappealing, isn't it?" They jumped, spinning around to face the spoken Milkwort. He sat almost sadly ten yards behind them or so, gazing at the bird. "Do you want the thousand to come?! Bless my tail and stuff my nose, get this thing out of here you dote!"

It was about fu inle when Ashwood woke, blinking away sleep in the darkness. Under some white alder trees along the hill they had dug scraps, rough short tunnels not meant for long living. They gave little comfort, and were minimum shelter, usually the moonlight filtered in through the hole. But tonight, there was no moon, and the late summer land seemed shadowy and void. Foxglove, the large fool, was splayed, taking up much of the space. Milkwort had his own smaller scrap next to theirs. He had reluctantly dragged the rotting bird off about a half mile, before returning for a scolding by Foxglove and then the news about the three rabbits now dead. "Was it a gun? Or-or the blindness? Could it have been the White Blindness?" "Easy, easy there chap. I couldn't see a wound from a gun but I didn't smell disease. All I know is that they're long dead, probably beginning to rot like that black bird if the farmer doesn't do something with them quick." That had been the last of the discussion, for he himself had inquired nothing and prompted they all catch rest. It was now here awake Ashwood felt the urge to have company and talk, but he didn't want to wake his friend and he wasn't intent on waking the younger Milkwort, either. So he lolloped out a few paces into the open, guided by hearing and scent since the night was so dark. It was the distant thunder of fleeting foot that made him rise on his hind legs, trying to pin point where - and what - this noise was coming from. It was definitely a rabbit, but he was up wind so he couldn't scent it. The beating came closer and closer, until it seemed the very sky twinkling with nothing but starlight radiated with it. His nostrils flared, and his heartbeat quickened, head turning from side to side blindly. The next second he was crashing to the ground, knocked down by whoever it was running. They rolled and kicked, finally breaking apart.

"Who are you?" Ashwood snarled, sniffing gingerly. "Coltsfoot, and you and your sentry are to come with me back to the group at once!" Coltsfoot was another young buck, picked up along the way not long after Milkwort. He was small and rather thin, nothing special and certainly not a threat. He was more built for speed, and was clearly used for so. "Now now what is all this commotion?" Foxglove came up beside his friend, Milkwort not far off. "There is no time to explain, you must come quickly! Hurry, we must go now!" You could feel the panic in his small body, and Foxglove cuffed him hard. "We're going to make time, so unless you wish to return alone you'll tell us just what is the matter." Milkwort was about to object when Ashwood cuffed him as well. Coltsfoot shook, peering about as if he could see in the utter blackness. "Al-alright but it must be quick. The glade where the group is staying, you know it? The last rabbits at silflay were just returning to their scraps when - when - oh lord here they come, out of the grass! From the trees! Help!" He squealed, kicking at the enemy that wasn't there. Milkwort took the liberty to hold him down. "What was it Coltsfoot?" Ashwood asked, trying not to sound irritated. "T-The Black Rabbit's Owlsa, straight from Inle!" He cried, kicking again in another fit. "Clearly someone has attacked the group, we must go and help them!" Milkwort declared, letting the now confused messenger up. "We don't know what we're up against, or even if anyone will be there and alive when we arrive." Foxglove told him firmly. "I'm no coward, but also no fool." "How can you let our people fight alone!" The mid-sized ashen buck shook his head, clearly not thinking it a good idea. "Not only that, but how are we to make any progress in the dark? And what will three - four - of us do against many?" Coltsfoot was fidgeting, and Milkwort defiant. "I'm going, no matter what you both say." And with that him and the messenger were gone, running into surely what would be their death.

Ashwood and Foxglove waited sleeplessly for the first signs of dawn, each their own opinion on what had attacked their group. Foxglove had insisted a nearby warren they hadn't seen, and Ashwood thought it was elil, or some such evil creature. Either way, they had agreed to go to the glade at first light. They hadn't spoken much, and when the fingers of twilit morning poked into their scrap the first words, surprisingly from Ashwood, broke the brooding silence. "We should be off at once, I think." His words were dry, as men get frogs in their throats after going too long without speaking. "Can't even vair, eh? I suppose you're right though. Let's get on with it then." And with that they didn't even silflay or pass hraka before running across the open moor northwest. They dashed through the stream and across the abandoned Gurlandshore warren, stopping at the edge of the rather dense forest. It was a wonder the group hadn't sheltered in deserted warren; only Captain Woodruff had stopped the hlessil from settling there. He convinced them it was a bad, cursed place - why else was it still abandoned? In late summer and pale light it looked ghostly, but still beautiful on the lush bank against the backdrop of trees. Among those trees were the two bucks, swallowing their fear and plunging into the dangerous wood.

Rabbits like open places where they can see things coming, but bushes and holes for shelter if the alarm sounds. In unfamiliar places they're automatically scared and stressed, especially in a dense forest where everything moves has sound. Their own eyes and ears trick them. Larks and yellowhammers twittered endlessly, movement in the undergrowth making them timid, causing slow progress. By the time they were near the glade, the sun was just over the treetops. High on his back legs, Foxglove looked around, scenting the air as he did so with the wide girth of his nose crinkling. The smell of blood was pungent, that Ashwood could smell as well. "Let me go look, I'll thump if it's all clear. Keep watch on me now, and if I get into trouble help if you can, but at no risk too great." Two of them dead would be no good. With his sudden courage, the ashen buck caught a glimpse of the glade from between the ferns. A few bodies dotted the green, but not nearly enough as there should have been. Hopping out, he stopped, looked around, and took a few more paces. He repeated this until he reached the first fallen rabbit. An older buck he had known to be friendly and knowledgeable, always brave with plenty of fight. To see him upon the grass so cold was a blow to the heart. He moved about the bodies, some young, some old, but not all of the group - and never an enemy. Only one doe was here, and they had had with them two. He started at a sound behind him, about to bolt for cover before he realized it was just Foxglove. "You forgot to thump." He said grimly, looking upon the body of the doe. "Sorry. I can't imagine what it must of been like...but where did they go Foxglove? Taken prisoner? They can't simply vanish." The slightly older sandy buck looked around him again, lolloping over to the scraps dug into the side of a drop off. Like a hill cut in half, one side missing it loomed over the scene. More glade was beyond it, but empty besides splatters of blood.

"My guess is eaten, maybe by elil like you said, or taken prisoner yes. But why would they take Captain Woodruff? And only one doe? And strange enough they must have dragged back their own dead - since none lay here." Perplexed, he crouched against the ground numbly. It occurred to Ashwood that dragging their dead would be a tiring job and take time, and two things came of that. One was they must be a big warren, to have fresh rabbits to do the task of the dead. And two the fighting had not lasted long. "Is it possible Captain Woodruff and the rest escaped?" He offered, bringing more ideas between them. "I don't know. Where -" They both froze as a moaning wail rose from the bushes nearby, followed by a shudder of the leaves. If the two bucks weren't on their feet before, they were now, and the instinct to run greater than ever. The ashen buck trembled. The larger sandy one was still, and this time his courage mounted as he ventured nearer. Disappearing from sight behind the bush, there was a gasp. "Great Frith he's alive!" Ashwood awkwardly galloped than ran over, fear still crippling his muscles. Both rabbits came into sight, one bloody on the ground he recognized Milkwort as a broken mess. "Whatever happened here Milkwort?" The dying buck, bathed in his own blood and foam, struggled to sit up but Foxglove kept him down. "Rest now." He soothed, Ashwood repeating his question. "What happened here?" The wounded rabbit looked overcome with grief and horror as he recalled the night, twitching at the leg. "They came," He croaked, voice dry as kindling. "I got here - here - just before the end," Coughing, his inhales were nothing more than wheezing shallow breathes. Blood trickled out of his mouth, and suddenly he looked urgent. "You were right to stay, to-to keep away!" "Nevermind that now, who did this to you?" Ashwood leaned in, feeling sorry for the young buck. "Coltsfoot, he was right. It was Inle, the Black Rabbit and his Owlsa stright from Inle!" He screamed, as a caught rabbit will scream in the jaws of a fox. He thrashed, convulsing, and then fixed his brown eyes on eternity as the life faded from him.

"I feel as if we've seen the Black Rabbit himself!" Ashwood fretted, rocking on his haunches as rabbits will. A few feet away Foxglove lay in the mouth of their scrap. The two had returned to their sentry post over the farm after checking for any more survivors or tracks - which there were none - because they simply had no where else to go. "Of course that's nonsense, but if it were true Captain Woodruff and whoever else would be in Inle, and no one except lord Frith could save them now." Foxglove was sensible, and not one to sulk. He wanted answers. Ashwood on the other hand had forgotten his wits and had begun to take up the accounts of the Black Rabbit story. He would probably be stupefied and not have made it even this far without company. "Now we need a plan. Do we go after our missing group, or leave this place far behind?" When the ashen buck realized he was being spoken to, he seemed to enter the present, as if he had been somewhere else in his mind. "I'll get to the bottom of this if it kills me." He declared, and the likelihood was that it would indeed kill him. Foxglove would have been very content in just leaving, but he could not part with his friend, and deep inside he wanted vengeance for his lost people. "Very well. Since we couldn't find any tracks back in the glade we can only guess that isn't a good place to start. I say we find someone who lives around here, maybe a witness or someone who knows what happened to the rabbits in the abandoned warren. They may have suffered the same fate." It had never occurred to Ashwood the two cases may be linked, but the idea frightened him. If it were true, they were dealing with an ancient evil, far too great for the likes of them. Nevertheless, he dared not speak of this. "Then where shall we start?"

It was funny, to find themselves back on the farm. Foxglove had checked the shed and the three rabbits were gone, eaten or thrown out or the like. Ashwood kept a lookout on top of some wooden crates against the barn, alert and watchful of cats or men. They were there to talk to anyone who would talk to them. Any clues or hints would be useful, as they had nothing yet. The brawny buck edged around a bucket and into a patch of musk weeds near a well. Hopping out the other side, he came nose to nose with a waiting cat. Ashwood, alert and doing the best he could to be an extra pair of eyes, failed to see the foul feline, for it was on the other side of the stone well out of his sight. Foxglove, ears pinned flat to his skill, was trying to figure out how to escape. The orange tabby, white tipped tail lashing, had no intentions of losing it's prey. "You're mine, 'abbit so, so fine." It hissed, about to leap when the sandy buck cried out. "Wait! Before you kill me, pfeffa, answer me this," He pleaded, intently watching the predator. "Do you know what happened to the rabbits here long ago? On the bank, pfeffa?" The cat's yellow eyes narrowed, thinking back. You see a cat lives much longer than a rabbit, therefore can still be young when a rabbit grows old, letting it have a greater recollection of time. "The 'abbits, I knew of them. Caught a few." It grinned, teeth so sharp and menacing it stuck terror so deep within Foxglove he almost went tharn. "W-what happend to them?" He stuttered, hoping he was gone long enough to arouse Ashwood into alarm. "Dey go, leave with more 'abbits. Strange 'abbits, through the fields." "Go where?" He prompted, but the cat's patience was growing thin. Looking as if to leap again, a silver bullet flew at the cat, knocking it to the side. The tabby snarled, lashing out a razor set of claws a second too late as the two rabbits raced away, already out of the farm.

Once on the edge of the fields, they stopped, resting. "I rather liked your new cat friend. Seems like you two were getting on well." Ashwood joked, nipping at the grass. His companion huffed. "My new cat friend gave me answers." He snapped, also grazing on the lush green. "It said the warren here left with 'strange rabbits' across these fields. Strange rabbits, not an owlsa of shadows." The ashen rabbit kept on his grass. "And where did they take these poor fellows?" "I didn't get that far, you.." They both paused. "Saved your life." Ashwood finished, and returned to nibbling. After their silflay, they basked in the afternoon sunshine with bellies full of grass. "So I think we should follow them east, since that's the only direction they could have taken. Do you know what's on the other side of the fields?" Foxglove sighed. "I don't, and only el-ahrairah would want to." He replied, rubbing his odd nose with his forepaws. They enjoyed the warmth of the sun until it sank below the horizon, which left them with their journey to start. Crossing the safe shadowy crops they emerged on the moor, in the distance three looming giants.

It was night, the sliver of moon half-way to it's highest point in the sky. The three giants had turned out to be three huge beech trees, bark cracking with age and canopies full of bright leaves looking pale in the faint moonbeams. The roots were jumbled and thick, grass growing through them wild and tall. During sunset or dawn it would have been a pleasurable place, but in the dark it was lonely and desolate. "Doesn't look as if anyone's been here." Ashwood inspected, chewing on a patch of clovers. "We should dig some scraps and chew pellets, the ground here is good and if we did find these black rabbits I wouldn't want to do so in the dark when they clearly have the advantage." "I'd be well off but this is too out in the open for my liking. Any elil or rabbit could happen upon us here and you know it. I think we should find somewhere with more cover." Ashwood looked annoyed, shuffling his front paws. "And where is there more cover? Hm? Is a little copse going to sprout at our feet?" Foxglove glared at him, and then around them for an answer. In the distance across the swift stream he noticed what appeared to be trees. "There," He declared, pointing a nose in the direction. "It looks like a wood has sprouted."

The two bucks had swam the rushing stream, which had proven to be far harder - and colder - than expected. They had ran some ways after pulling themselves out, and now settled and shivering about a hundred yards away from the wood Foxglove had perceived from Three Trees. It was hard to distinguish, but the silhouettes of the forest looked wrong, all thin and twisted reaching for the starry sky. And the entire persona of the wood was black, blacker than the dark of night. It was daunting, and Ashwood made it clear he thought so. "You couldn't get me near there even if a fox was snapping at my tail!" He alleged, huddling among some cow parsley in full bloom. His friend felt irritated at the lack of compliance, but also intimidated by the strange wood. He himself wanted to admit his wrongs and go back to the lonely beech trees, but there was a tug of his pride and he knew he couldn't let up for all he was worth. "You're as bad as a tharn flea-bitten doe! We've got ears to listen, a nose to smell, and legs that can run faster than any elil...el-ahrairah would be ashamed of a groveling excuse for a rabbit such as yourself!" He argued, insults spurred from his new-found temper. Ashwood stood his ground, quiet though clearly displeased, and not all that shocked at the sandy buck's outburst. Muttering curses he lolloped on without a word, towards the black tree-line. He wasn't one to outwardly express his anger, often keeping it inside and turning it over and over in his mind sourly until all was forgotten. Miffed at the action and easy win, Foxglove followed after him.

The forest was hardly a forest at all - the trees, some birch some alder and even a few sparse pines - were charred black and smokey, the air lifeless. Ashwood had explained to Foxglove this forest had been on fire, and this was the result. A few saplings were among the ashes and dirt, but there was a lack of hedge and undergrowth. They were crouched under a holly bush, one of the few lively plants about them on the edge of the creepy, depressing place. Foxglove's luck had finally run out, for he had to admit staying back at Three Trees was a better decision. "I should have your precious ears for this," Ashwood scolded, a chilling breeze whistling through the bare branches around them. "Now I'm much too tired to go back, so we'll have to make our scraps here in this dreadful place." There was a hint of fear in his voice, and the other rabbit didn't blame him. A sudden beating of wings; crow's call echoing, bouncing off every trunk and ringing in their ears. It only made the burned forest eerier. "What sort of crow calls at this time?" The ashen buck whispered, peering out from under the bush. "One who's been alerted. We aren't alone." At this both cottontails backed further into the holly, stillness absolute and quiet except for their heightening pulses.

There certainly was something out there. They could hear it among what little undergrowth there was and snapping of a twig from time to time. It sounded as if it were hrair creatures lurking some long moments, but it always faded back to one. You could probably imagine our two travelers' horror and discomfort, neither getting the rest they had sought for. It wasn't until dawn they felt secure enough to leave the holly bush. Timidly they hopped out, glancing here and there, sniffing the air but picking up nothing unusual. Wandering about fifty feet from the forest they finally felt safe enough to rest. It was as if every once of energy had drained from their bodies - it was all they could do to silflay on the rather course unappetizing grass. "What do you think that was?" Foxglove asked, happening upon a dry dandelion with weak delight. "Only Frith knows, but it was as big as a hare or bigger from what it sounded like. There might have been a few, but I'm not quite sure." Ashwood replied, eying the dandelion enviously. "Something tells me in that forsaken place are are answers, though." Foxglove made brisk work of the treat and then sat back, realizing what exactly he meant. "You think the rabbits we're looking for are in there?" He finally questioned, slightly appalled by the idea. "Strange rabbits must live in a strange place, and that's as strange as any I'd say."

It had taken much discussion and some arguing to finally make a decision, and their conclusion wasn't favored but they saw no other choice. They would go into the Burned Forest by daylight and search for these strange rabbits and rescue their lost people if they could. After sleeping in the tall grass until ni-frith, they ran to the black tree-line, where they warily hesitated. A flock of crows flew southward overhead, cawing their haunting song all the way. Exchanging glances, the two bucks plunged in. It was spooky even in the light, the ghostly shadows playing across their figures. They could move faster because it was open and barren, allowing them to see. The usual constant mysterious noises of a forest were not present, it was a dead silence that not even the calling of a thrush broke. As the sun began to make it's downward spiral to the horizon, it seemed their progress didn't amount to much, for they'd found nothing. Falling into despair, the two rabbits stopped to pass hraka and nibble on some new shoots of grass. "I don't think we're going to find anything, and I certainly don't want to spend the night in here. If we turn back now it'll be just after sunset we exit." Ashwood matter-of-factually said. Foxglove was less sure. They had come so far, and turning back now felt like they had wasted the entire trip. "I think we should press on a little further. We'll still be out of this place before night." Ashwood grudgingly agreed, and not long had they started on again a yellowhammer fluttered down and landed on a low branch above them.

"Rabbits look, rabbits search
What they seek, they'll never find!"

The ashen buck rose on his hind legs, narrowing his dark eyes at the little bird. "What do you know of what we seek?" Foxglove rolled his eyes. "He doesn't know anything about us, he just knows echos of poems and riddles and the talk and gossip he's heard. You've gone mad if you think of speaking of him!"

"I know more than ye think
In pools of blood ye will sink
If you find the ones ye sought to seek!"

"He does know who we're trying to find Foxglove, he does! Little bird do you know where the strange rabbits are? Tell us please, our friends they need our help!" The yellowhammer fluffed it's feathers, turning it's head to the side to see the two strangers.

"Black as midnight , fierce as dogs
Are the rabbits of Vhal!
Up ahead, you're as good as dead
They burrow in the Souland Follow
The path to the living trees is out!
Brave rabbits find what they seek
Woe is it thanks to me!"

The yellowhammer suddenly took flight, singing his ominous song as he went. Foxglove looked as if he had just seen a hedgehog grow wings, but Ashwood was deep in thought. "Obviously we're close to their warren. Maybe Milkwort and Coltsfoot weren't far off, if these rabbits are really black in color. They'll have the advantage at night, so we best get on before sunset." Proceeding with caution, they had no idea where exactly this warren was, or what they should have been looking for. For all they knew they could already be on top of it. But it was not long until Foxglove beckoned to Ashwood for him to come. Together they glimpsed through some ragwort to witness one of the largest rabbits they had ever seen emerge from a hole in a decent sized hollow. A few more were dotted around the outskirts, veiled with brambles they must have dragged over. Around and in the hollow were primroses blossoming beautifully. In the center there was a particular bush that had a sort of tunnel through it, no doubt leading to a hole. Two rabbits equally large as the first guarded the entrance. All the rabbits they had seen were black, just as described. "What sort of rabbits are these? I've never seen a wild black rabbit, and no rabbits this big. We certainly have no chance against them, and I'm not a small fellow and you're bigger than I." Ashwood whispered, completely stumped and discouraged. "I've no idea, but they're a superior bunch I know that much. I don't think I could even kill one, especially one who knew how to fight equally as good as me. And you know I don't admit such things easily. I have a feeling any prisoners are down that center hole if I'm not mistaken; it's the only one with guards. We should hide here and watch a while longer, see if we can't think of something."

The sun was just touching the horizon when Ashwood spotted movement. Out of the holes suddenly hrair rabbits flooded the hollow, and out of the center hole came three familiar faces. One was Coltsfoot - miraculous he even survived. The next was another buck called Cornel, who Ashwood did not know well, but knew he was close to Woodruff. The last to emerge, followed by a burly guard, was the only surviving doe Viburnum. She came off as reserved and very strong willed, having to win her respect before she might call you a friend. She was average size and carried little weight but she was as fierce as any; Ashwood had seen her get into a scuffle with a buck. It was rather savage and surprising, her claws were sharp and their strike was dangerous, her bites deep. Least to say the buck backed off quickly enough. She had no mate that anyone knew of. Guarded on three sides they were led to a corner of the hollow where patches of grass had started to grow, other black rabbits at silflay there as well. Most of the ones that emerged had gone to the opposite end, and some even left the hollow all together - making their way beyond. Turning to Foxglove he felt pricking anger. The buck had fallen asleep, and though they were both tired and stressed this was no time to be off guard. He cuffed him with force and the sandy buck started, looking around bewildered. "We're in the heart of enemy territory and you're dreaming of green meadows and cowslips! Look," As the groggy buck learned of the new appearances, his spirits sailed.

"We've got to talk to one of them somehow. Find out everything we can about these beasts and if they're more vulnerable for rescue at a certain time more than another." Ashwood spoke softly, not to be overheard by one of the black terrors. "That's all fine and dandy but how in Frith's name are we to speak to one of them?" The ashen buck looked out into the hollow, fading light casting the place in ever deeper shadow. "Viburnum, do you see her? She's awfully close to that rose bush, and no guards are right near her. We could slip into it and get her attention!" Foxglove looked doubtful, but nodded and they began their dangerously exposed lollop around the hollow to the primrose. It seemed like eternity before they got there - moving from bush to hedge to bush again, all the while sure they would be spotted and attacked between so. There was no breeze, like most things in this forest the wind was dead. It might have been the only blessing they had, for surely someone would have picked up their scent at once. Finally submerged in the leaves and thorns of the rose bush, the two bucks gazed out at Viburnum who was still in the same place. "Viburnum!" Ashwood called, hushed voice barely reaching her. "Viburnum!" The doe looked up, bewildered and frightened. "Viburnum over here in the rose bush! Feed closer!" Fright and shock fading to confusion, she nibbled her way to the blooming plant, only a foot or so away. "Who are you?" She whispered, trying to steal a glance without being noticed. "It's Ashwood and Foxglove, from the group. We were on farm duty when the attack happened. Do you remember us?" It was a minute before she replied, all the while working on the shoots. "Yes, I know you. Milkwort was also on duty, but he came back. He's..." Foxglove spoke this time. "Yes yes, we went back to the glade and know. Now Viburnum, how many are alive? From the group?" "Who you see out here."

Ashwood and Foxglove were silent, absorbing what she had said. "What happen to the rest? And why you three?" The doe looked up as one of the guards shifted, settling back down to feed only when she was sure he was not going to come closer. "They were interrogated and killed, Woodruff was the last to die. They did terrible things to him, made him talk about if there were other warren or hlessil nearby. Played with him after, and then killed him. Cornel is alive because he says he knows of a warren not far from here, three days travel. I don't know if he's lying, but they're having him take them to it. Coltsfoot was just caught, he escaped from the battle you see. They hunted him down and dragged him back, I guess they're just waiting to kill him. And as for myself, when they killed Parsnip (The other doe.) I heard the Commander tell them 'Save that one, she's got fight. Maybe good breeding material.' Then I really let that buck I was tussling with have it -" "Why are they black, and huge? What kind of rabbits are these?" Ashwood interrupted, feeling their time running short. "I'm not quite sure, but they're not from around here. I asked and one tried to explain that they lived like wild rabbits in a far away place, but then man caught them and took them here. They escaped and have made a home here ever since, moving into the wood right after it was burned. I don't really understand, though." Two of the three guards started moving towards the two prisoner bucks, the third laying his sights on Viburnum. "Quickly now, when do you feed so we can talk to you again?" Foxglove persisted, knowing they only had moments. "We silflay every sun down and sometimes at dawn. If you're going to do something do it in two days, when the majority of these rabbits go to take Cornel's suppose warren. They'll be less. Hide now! That brute is coming - and for Frith's sake don't get caught!" The two rabbits edged away as the guard came closer, Viburnum meeting him halfway to keep him away from the bush. She didn't even glance back as she was escorted back to the center bush, the last of the three to disappear in as the Vhar buck followed close behind.

The two bucks made their escape undetected from the warren, the sun below the horizon and night fleeting across the sky. They raced southward, fear making them careless in how they blundered through the charred undergrowth, and the new knowledge they pertained heightening their endurance. Only when their feet felt the touch of soft grass and the cool breeze did the hlessil stop. Collapsing to the earth both were extremely winded, and fed on the lush blades until they had caught their breath. "I never imagined there could be rabbits such as that, how could Frith create such monstrosities?" Ashwood finally broke the silence, sitting back on his haunches. Foxglove also stopped nibbling at the flay, but continued to crouch. "Blaming Frithrah will do us no good now. Viburnum said in two days time their warren would be nearly empty, we must focus our thoughts on a plan to free her and Coltsfoot. A plan even El-ahrairah couldn't find fault with." With much dismay the grey rabbit nodded, their slim chances of success dawning on him. "Well I feel like the Thousand are feeling lucky with us just sitting in the open, let's head back to those three beeches." Foxglove agreed and hopping as if rocks were tied to their feet, they began a long trek with only the moonlight as a guide.

TO BE WRITTEN
Vhal rabbits: here
Foxglove: here
Ashwood: here
Viburnum: here
Woodruff: here
Coltsfoot: here
Cornel: here