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It was a lovely evening on the Down that day. Meadowsnip was enjoying a good meal of Flayrah in the form of long wheat strands. It was some of the best she had ever had, the stalks just as crunchy and flavourful as the golden seeds that other rabbits preferred. She didn't waste one bit of it, happily grazing on her bundle of long strands.

There was a sudden terrifying flurry of feathers and something was latching onto her pile of food! She leaped back and bolted for her warren, turning to look back.
It was a crow! A young...it was some kind of grey-blue and white songbird, now standing where she had been and picking at her meal.

She knew some birds were elil. She had seen a large group of crows pick off a kitten or two but she had not known songbirds to be like this. This Swallow was no older than a kitten itself, probably just out of the nest. She was not going to stand aside and let it eat her hard-earned flayrah. She had hopped down to the field herself to get this!

So, hopping back over, she shoved past the rude bird, using her teeth to pull the stalks free from it. "This is mine! Go fly off and find your own, please. "

It chirped angrily as she sat her whole body down on it and put her ears back. The bird walked around her, unsure what to do. Then, it pecked a few times, beating its wings, trying to scare the brave but soft spoken female off his dinner.

The doe was warring through the tiny pecks and high-pitched chirps, sighing as it landed on her back. She was not moving.

The swallow beat its wings and dove around at the Owsla's approach, spinning and diving in the air around them, trying to peck at the buck's torn ears.


Meadowsnip just sighed and itched a spot behind her ear with a hind foot. This was an idiot bird.

The bird chirped more and more angrily, then finally took the hint as it was kicked from the air, flying away.

"Well, mighty good moves. Thank you, officer." Meadowsnip said, almost dismissively, and went back to her flay, nose wiggling. "Do help yourself." She offered as a second thought.

The doe opened her eye at the other and continued to munch her hay. She was looking him back to front, remaining wordless. Finally, finishing her stalks, she began to groom herself. "Thanks again." She said, loping off away from the warren.

She was intending to go find something to munch on for dessert, her mind much like Ginkgo's. She bounded past a small bush where another rabbit lifted his head.

Pitchweed was munching his own flay next to his sister, pausing as he saw the gorgeous doe hop past.

"Do pardon me, Sister." He said, leaving Wildwood and watching Meadowsnip like the elil predator he was, ears twitching as he made his slow approach.

Pitchweed knew his sister was not very happy about his leaving, so he would hurry. He bounded easily over to Meadowsnip and began to snuffle at her haunches.

She startled, kicking him in the face with both hind legs and backing off rapidly, her eyes full of anger and fear. "Please announce yourself before you sneak up on a doe like that!"

"Apologies." Said Pitchweed, approaching still. He leaned against her and showed off his teeth, ears flicking. "Don't mind me. I was just enjoying your...scents."

She shivered. "Yes, well, it was good to meet you." She bounded a bit, but the buck easily overtook her, cutting her off, almost herding her in a circle.

"What's the hurry?" He asked in a slick voice. "There's no elil about. Why not enjoy a nice, quiet flay on the grass with me? What's your name?"

She was getting all kinds of warnings. "After flay we can go back to my den. I am certain my sister can spend time elsewhere tonight." He nipped her ear.

That's when she put on her attack face and bit him right on the nose, scrambling over his back and bolting for the hill she had come from.

But again, though she was fast, he overtook her again, now a look of passionate anger in his multi-hued eyes.

Pitchweed's golden eye turned a glance at the officer and he sighed. Another chance at an evening ruined. He puffed himself up as best he could, not afraid of the Owsla. He'd tangled with them before. This one was particularly small.

"Oh, well if it isn't Ginkitten." He said with a frosty tone. "I was not bothering her. I was just attempting to make small talk.

The doe had moved behind the smaller buck and glared out at the black-brown and golden rabbit. Most of the warren knew of them.

"Do you not have your sister to make small talk with?" The euphamism wasn't very subtle.

Pitchweed stood up on his hind paws and glared down at the Owsla, his two-colored gaze a harrowing, mocking one. "Try it then, kitten!" He wanted the doe and he'd been...dealt with by the owsla before. But this little buck was alone and he had Wildwood nearby if he needed help.

Pitchweed lunged forward, teeth going for the other's already ripped up ears, letting out a hiss that barely seemed like a rabbit.


Meadowsnip jumped a mile and backed off, not enjoying violence! This one might turn out to be a bit bloody, too.

Pitchweed was also very prideful. If he wasn't such a sleaze he might have made owsla himself! But he was a sleaze and he was determined to prove himself to this pretty doe, like a pair of deer fought for their does!

He kicked with his hind legs as he was forced to the ground, trying to dig in with his own teeth, too!

Meadowsnip's eyes were huge. She looked around for a way to stop them, but could think of nothing except...

She bounded over to Wildwood's resting spot. "Call your brother off. Before he gets killed! He won't win this fight."