The rabbit twitched its nose

Quiet hung over the forest. The rabbit twitched its nose at the wrongness of it. Where were the bird calls, the scrabbling claws of voles and mice in the long grass? Where was the downward draught of an eagle’s wing echoing in the air, or the squelch of pigs in their wallow?

The rabbit peered into the midday shadows beneath the trees. A scent carried on the limpid breeze, one he didn’t know. The rabbit twitched its nose. Unpleasant like the rotting carcass of a deer. And accompanied by another smell which burned his nostrils and clogged his throat.

Tree turnk

The quiet broke into a frenzied, high pitched buzz which burst upon the rabbit’s upright, listening ears. He startled, jumped to face the danger.

The buzzing stopped on a shout and a groaning creaking which sent the rabbit bolting for its burrow.

Just in time, as the great tree whumpfed among the bracken to thwack the earth beneath and shudder to its death.

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2 thoughts on “The rabbit twitched its nose”

  1. A snapping twig disturbed the eerie quiet of the bush. The rabbit twitched its nose, knowing instinctively things were not as they should be.
    For a start, there were no birds singing – always common at this time of the day.
    Another snap. Someone, or something, was moving stealthily through the undergrowth.
    The rabbit peered anxiously over the top of a low-lying bush but failed to detect any movement.
    Strange, it thought, perhaps my ears are deceiving me.
    There it was again – another snap, only this time a lot closer.
    Time to bolt, and he turned to run. Too late, the dog was upon him – reaching for his neck and head with its snarling, gnashing teeth.
    The rabbit moved quickly, managing to avoid instant death, and darted through the undergrowth without a single concern for the injuries sharp branches or prickly twigs might cause.
    The dog was hot on its heels, growling and snapping as it reached desperately for its prey.
    “All I have to do is reach the safety if my burrow,” the rabbit thought, “and then this monster won’t be able to touch me.”
    It was a forlorn thought. The dog was closing fast and the burrow was still some distance away.
    “I need a distraction or some alternative hiding place.”
    Just up ahead, the rabbit spotted a hollow log large enough for him to enter but too small for the dog.
    Changing direction sharply, he shot like a bullet into the opening and slid to a halt halfway along.
    Frustrated, the dog snarled and snapped furiously at the entrance – unable to reach his intended victim with either paw or snout.
    Looking back, the rabbit twitched its nose, knowing it would probably be a long and patient wait before his aggressor gave up the chase.

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