For the crippled buck, an 'adventure' meant going anywhere outside. After his horrid experiences at the hands of elil, man and the snare, the brown-furred male had developed a deep fear of wide open spaces. This condition was not helped by the fact that he could not run, at least not well. The wire that had been part of the snare had sealed itself into his flesh as he healed, rendering him with a permanent limp. While mobile, he was not fast, and his halting gait made him an easy rabbit to spot from afar. In fact, the only reason he would ever be found outside was when his close friend Heather kicked him out of his burrow in order for him to get some fresh air.
Today had been one of the timid doe's 'no nonsense' days, and after waking him early in the dawn she had unceremoniously pushed him out of his bedding and chased him slowly up the run, after refusing to bring his flay down to him the previous evening. She was utterly determined that he would 'be a rabbit', but he felt so not-rabbit-like that he barely knew what to do with himself these days.
Crouched close to one of the smaller and less used entrances to the warren, his brown fur offering some camouflage against the beach roots he nestled among, he sat quietly chewing the unpalatable flay that grew harsh and stiff under the shade of the massive old tree.
