The bang of the gun echos across the fields, frightening every living thing, whether miles away, or so close, yet you can’t even see it. The rabbit flies across the paddock with a spring in its step, but this is not for fun, someone wants to kill the fluffy, creamy speedster.
Tearing across the dry, long, scratchy grass, it calls for it’s friends, family and relations. They now are alerted for the danger, that could be anywhere.
The tiny rabbit, bounded into a hole, like it was never there. While hearing the nose of a hound, it’s own twitches tentatively. Footsteps ring into the rodents ears.
Once the danger has gone, he climbs out of the hole. Making no noise, he races off, but stops, to check for sure. Thudding the ground as he scratches, and bounds along happily joyous of his victory. But not for long, for he may never be safe.
I like the idea of writing from the Rabbits point of view - thinking about it's feelings.
ReplyDelete