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Dawn seemed to have come too early. Either that or the night had been too short. Regardless, Frith's first rays had not yet touched the earth, but would be doing so soon, giving the rabbits the cover of early dawn to make their journey to the warren on the hill. There was a giddiness in Lark that he did not outwardly express, but he most certainly felt. He was ready for some good news - good news they would most certainly bring back to their rah in the near future. The mission would be an interesting one to say the least and most certainly challenging. He had been many things in his lifetime - a son, a brother, an uncle, a fighter, a brute, a lover, a murderer, but never an actor. He'd lived with his emotions on his shoulder, like a mark in and of itself, but he would have to change his ways for this particular moment in his life. He was adaptable, he knew he could do it. He did not fear meeting the Black Rabbit and figured he would die fighting, but he did not want to leave his companions in a right rough mess either.

The early morning was a quiet one and the brown furred buck sat motionless near an upturned stump none too far from the warren proper. He was perched high on his haunches, his paws tucked in against his creamy coloured chest. Pert ears swiveled at the slightest of sounds and he was ever on alert for one of the thousand. Winter was always a harsh period of time. Food was scarcer, elil were hungrier, and the snow was wet and frigid. His bottom was cold, but he paid little heed to it and instead waited for his paw picked group to meet him, as they had been instructed to. The first of the rabbits should start arriving at any moment and until they did, he waited like a furry statue. They would be off soon, before the remaining rabbits would start emerging for their early siflay. A part of him was glad for that. As much as he wanted to make a name for himself in the warren, for some reason this departure reminded him of the day they left their old warren... Even though he knew they would be coming back. All of them, with any luck, but who could ever guess Frith's will?









(If anyone would like to get in touch with me to discuss the mission/plots, I can be reached on aim at aurriebeaues and on skype at Balefur!)

Yona hadn't slept well. He'd experienced a low level of anxiety ever since the warren was taken over, but his current anxiety was stronger and more immediate. He'd never left the warren before, nor had he seen blood before the massacre. He'd analyzed his options however, and this was the best course forward. How paradoxical that his greatest chance at long term survival held the highest short term risks! He couldn't continue in the warren as things were now; the does held the power and none of them were interested in some runty buck from a failed warren. Which was exactly how everyone saw him. The sooner he earned a doe's mark and protection, the better.

And failing that... there remained the warren on the hill. The rabbits that had taken over his warren were strong and clever, true, but if the warren on the hill proved to be stronger and more welcoming of hlessi then Yona wasn't above switching sides. But that was a thought for later.

Maintaining a blank expression, he slipped out of his burrow and headed for the meeting spot with Lark. He'd listened to the gossip; Lark had promise. Hopefully he also had enough competence to keep the team alive and undetected. Blending in with the snow and making as little noise as possible, Yona drifted towards the stump like a ghost. He stopped at a respectful distance from Lark and Feather Ear and nodded politely.

Early as it was, Ginger Paw found himself as alert as the day of his first run, nose twitching, taking in the many scents that littered their newfound burrows. His ears swiveled at each crunch of plant underfoot and every brushing of leaf as it fell and scraped the earth below, and his heart pounded with anticipation. Still, there was an air of apprehension that hung around him like a looming cloud, threatening to open up and swallow him whole, and a nervous twittering that had settled in his stomach, a constant tug to remind him that not all was quite right. It was these worries that occupied his mind, causing him to arrive a bit behind schedule that morning.

With a sheepish smile and lowered gaze, he joined his group and took a seat beside Feather Ear, not far from Lark. The two outsiders that had managed to worm their way inside did not sit well with him, and so he kept a carefully trained eye on the two. He had at one time been known to trust a fellow buck or doe the way he trusted the moon to rise every night, but that trust had been taken away, and he was not so sure he wished for it back quite yet.

Potato remained silent during the briefing. Not much new was said, but Lark elaborated a bit on how they'd approach. He didn't mind pretending to be a loner, since it meant he wouldn't have to pretend much at all. Ginger seemed to want to stare a hole in his head, and Lark also looked at him funny. He didn't dare to look at the other to. Yeah, it would be dangerous. His old warren had always made a point to stay away from the rabbits on the down, and it felt weird to go there on purpose. But he didn't have a thing to lose.

He nodded as Lark explained the chain of command. It felt redundant to ask what would happen if both Lark and Feather Ear stopped running. If that happened they would probably all have been wiped out already.

"Do we need code names," he asked, and then felt silly for asking. "Or something..." He hadn't got the hang of the ranks in the new warren yet, but he supposed it would be bad to use names, or ranks or even to be too polite to these other fake-hlessi he wasn't supposed to know.

He wondered if Lark would divide them into groups or if he'd let them figure it out themselves. The brown rabbit expected to be left in his own little group in that case. surely no one would willingly work with him?