I will now post the majority of work I came up during my second year of Uni, I am also working on an update to the Tale of Animalia, and...lets just say, it might be an exciting one.
One thing they always told me:
don’t go out alone and never go down to the river.
Restricted territory. They
called it the eye of danger. They called it the point of no return .
But I still went down there. It
was late at night and I was alone. I just needed some alone time without the
group jumping down my throat all the time. I was just sick of it. I wish they’d
just shut up about me not pulling my weight. Why were they the boss of me? How
do they know about my life? If I wanted to go down to the clearing and take a
piss, it should be fine.
I relished the open space, the
freedom. For once, I had a little breathing space that wouldn’t be disturbed.
No yelping or screaming going on in my ears. I wondered someday if they’ll just
accept that I’m not a little baby anymore and I can do these things myself. I
wished I could prove to them all that I was strong.
My thoughts were distracted by
a sound behind me.
I saw it in the distance as it
rapidly came towards me. It was just like the legends say, sharp knives all
over. A silhouetted shape in the moonlight - It was the Claw.
One thing they always told me:
The Claw feels no remorse, no humanity and if you see it, run and hide…if you
can.
I had never ran as fast as I
did then. It took its time, it always did. Hovering over its target until they
got tired and it closed in on them; all cries for help are faded out by the
thousand knives digging into their throat.
It was a good thing they always
told me that I was lucky and was gifted with my speed
I was running down a long
stretch approaching a clearing. Uncharted territory. Ahead of me were some more
of the natives. I knew these beasts; our kind largely view them as harmless,
but they are larger and much faster than us, they stick to herds and just the
sight of surprise would set them on stampede that would crush anything in their
way. The sight of the Claw would send them into frenzy.
The Claw shrieked behind me and
as I approached the clearing, the natives were set off.
As I drastically dodged the
long, deadly legs of the herd. I noticed some natives from the heights above
caught up in the flurry. They were just as much at risk from The Claw as I was;
maybe I could team up with them?
I ran up next to a long tailed
native, I’d always liked them despite how elusive they were and thought of us
as quite similar despite my inability to reach the heights. It was as if we
were united for that moment…until it ran up into the green heights above,
hiding within the bush and leaving me alone.
One thing they always told me:
The other natives are not our kind, they possess things we don’t; distance is
suggested.
I realised the herd around me
had dispersed and I was running down another long stretch. The Claw was still
behind me. As I felt myself start to pant, I knew that it’s time to strike
would be near.
I spotted something up ahead,
it was another clearing, but I knew this one. Our water hole! Somehow, I
was closer to home than I thought.
But another thing they had
always told me: Always stay on one side of the river
I remembered the day I first
encountered the water, the day that game of tag got out of hand. I had chased
Scat into the water, and I kept going until it got too deep. By that time, it
was too late for Scat. I still remember his gurgling cries for help, they stick
into my head to this day.
One thing they always told me
after that: We were not meant to swim, so don’t try it. Leave it to the water
natives.
I dived into the bitter,
freezing water. I had always observed how those water natives moved their tails
deftly from side to side to move. If only my tail was as big as there’s was –
The bite of the water went right through me, slowing me down. I was soon
gurgling hopelessly as I started to sink.
Everything had gone to plan; I
could feel The Claw starting to move in, to dive in on me. The last thing I
would feel is the excruciating combination of the bitter cold and the knives
digging into my neck.
Unless I could get to that
patch of lilies ahead and then make it on to land! Resisting the bitter waters, I thrashed my
paws in the water as much as I could until I came straight into one. On top of
the lily was another water native. I always found this one to be strange: it
had small, green, huge bulging eyes and seemed to sit on these large pebbles
occasionally shooting out his immensely long tongue to catch those irritating
buzzing dots.
I had awoken it, its eyes
struck open quickly. Too late. The killer struck, diving down, knifed feet
drawn.
And without warning, it swept
right past me; my sight was blurred as I was plunged into the freezing depths
below. When I emerged, I saw the killer gliding above me, holding in its clutch
the hapless struggling green native.
It was then I remembered two
things they always told me: I had a knack for getting myself out of trouble.
I could feel myself starting to
sink so I quickly thrashed through the lily pads until it was shallow enough to
just crawl. As I stepped out of the water, I noticed a native staring at me
below. The main water natives were wide-eyed, shy, frisky creatures. This one
stared at me with that plain look of indifference like it always did.
The full reality of what just
happened just hit me. I had outrun the Claw! I suppose I felt some sympathy for
the poor native sacrificed but they always told me that the Circle of Life was
harsh. It was only these strange mute creatures that would remember this for
years to come. I wondered just what it felt in that small head. It obviously
couldn’t stay long as it instantly darted away, for no particular reason that I
could see.
I wish they could’ve all seen
this, they’d never believe me, and they’ll make up some crap about how I’m
being ‘arrogant’ & ‘delusional’ again. I hated that they always told me I
was so self-absorbed and unaware to danger. I think that showed that I could
make it on my own.
Never mind. I know I’d always
remember it, and they’ll never take that away.
I set off through the long
stretch back to the familiar clearing. What was going through my mind at that
time
was blurry but I seemed to be pondering that one thing that they had
always told me that I had forgotten; I guessed it wasn’t that important.
I noticed a rustling in the
hedges. I turned round, stopped for a second. Too long. A flash of red, some
gnarling teeth, thrusted off the ground, blacking out…That night, I was food to
the cubs of our greatest predator…
We even knew it by its first
name: Fox.
And before my backbone was
cracked by that set of knives, I remembered what that one thing I forgot was.
One thing that they always told me, and every rabbit that would ever live: A
rabbit is never safe.
