in triumph, relishing his minor victory.
“I always knew it was here,” said Monroth. “I was just testing you.”
They went down the trail quickly, and kept moving, though inevitably twilight came. They forged on, fighting the instinct for sleep, pushing through the dense undergrowth of fanworts, broom sedge, musk thistle, and red sorrel. And still they continued, stumbling at times over rocks and roots exposed, beneath the darkening green canopy. They pressed through the forest with sleep beckoning them like Mother from her late spring nest.
G OMOR AND C ORMO were still and quiet at the descent of night. They had seen but a few small songbirds and no other creatures. Gomor was a bit worried about leaving his family without telling them of his adventurous plans, but of course the young will be young and neither bird nor rabbit worried too much. After all, they would see their families tomorrow, assuredly. They wanted to make an early meeting with Ysil, Cotur Ada, and Monroth. And certainly not long after that the whole of the field dwellers would be going back home.
But for now they settled down beneath the shelter of a willow in the recess of the fallen tree Cormo had seen earlier in the day and lay still.
Then they heard the voice.
“Oh, boys, I hear your whispering,” came the soft call. It was Harlequin. She sounded playful, but there was unrestrained relief in her voice. “Am I glad I found you,” she said.
“Over here!” called out Gomor, a bit too loud for Cormo. “We are here!”
They heard her rustling then curse softly, missing a step and tripping. She moved through the shadowy undergrowth, careful of her footing, and settled close to Gomor. She’d had a kinship with the rabbit since they were young, and he, of course, adored her as a dear friend.
“Well, well,” she said. “If I haven’t found my brave young adventurers. Let’s keep company.”
“Why on earth would you follow us? You are crazy to move through these woods alone!” said Cormo, but even as he said this he remembered what he had overheard her tell Cotur Mono and knew: Monroth. She wanted to find Monroth.
“Well,” she said, “I couldn’t let you two take off by yourselves and have all the fun. And besides, you need someone to take care of you.”
It was nearly dark now.
Gomor huffed. “And you would be that one? Really!” He lay still.
All this talk and Cormo was a bit nervous. “Be quiet, you two. Remember the rules of the wood at night. We must stay quiet.”
They fell silent. Harlequin rustled a bit closer to Cormo, and he felt her feathers brush his. He shivered. Harlequin was his cousin and he had never carried Harlequin within his heart, but being this close to her and her immediate need for his presence was flattering to him. She was unquestionably as tense as they were about being alone in the forest and certainly a good measure more afraid than she sounded, facing the prospect of sleeping by herself with the dangers of night about. Surely she had never done that before. She would in no doubt be huddling this close to any of the covey, or any rabbit for that matter.
And so they settled down, and with dark closing fast, the two quail fell asleep. Gomor lay there listening only for a moment, then began to rummage through the surrounding leaves looking for something to eat.
“W AKE UP !” T HERE came a voice to Cormo like one within a dream, and he fought the web of sleep to reply.
“What is it, Gomor?” said Cormo, his mind tangled within a night’s dreams.
“There is something near!” whispered Gomor.
Then he heard it. The undeniable rush of great wings. His heart seized in his chest at that sound as only the prey can. He spun around to Gomor, who was staring into the black, his eyes attuned to darkness.
Gomor looked over to Harlequin, who had awoken also. She had lowered her head to the ground, her eyes wide and frightened. The rush of wings within the descending dark of night
“I always knew it was here,” said Monroth. “I was just testing you.”
They went down the trail quickly, and kept moving, though inevitably twilight came. They forged on, fighting the instinct for sleep, pushing through the dense undergrowth of fanworts, broom sedge, musk thistle, and red sorrel. And still they continued, stumbling at times over rocks and roots exposed, beneath the darkening green canopy. They pressed through the forest with sleep beckoning them like Mother from her late spring nest.
G OMOR AND C ORMO were still and quiet at the descent of night. They had seen but a few small songbirds and no other creatures. Gomor was a bit worried about leaving his family without telling them of his adventurous plans, but of course the young will be young and neither bird nor rabbit worried too much. After all, they would see their families tomorrow, assuredly. They wanted to make an early meeting with Ysil, Cotur Ada, and Monroth. And certainly not long after that the whole of the field dwellers would be going back home.
But for now they settled down beneath the shelter of a willow in the recess of the fallen tree Cormo had seen earlier in the day and lay still.
Then they heard the voice.
“Oh, boys, I hear your whispering,” came the soft call. It was Harlequin. She sounded playful, but there was unrestrained relief in her voice. “Am I glad I found you,” she said.
“Over here!” called out Gomor, a bit too loud for Cormo. “We are here!”
They heard her rustling then curse softly, missing a step and tripping. She moved through the shadowy undergrowth, careful of her footing, and settled close to Gomor. She’d had a kinship with the rabbit since they were young, and he, of course, adored her as a dear friend.
“Well, well,” she said. “If I haven’t found my brave young adventurers. Let’s keep company.”
“Why on earth would you follow us? You are crazy to move through these woods alone!” said Cormo, but even as he said this he remembered what he had overheard her tell Cotur Mono and knew: Monroth. She wanted to find Monroth.
“Well,” she said, “I couldn’t let you two take off by yourselves and have all the fun. And besides, you need someone to take care of you.”
It was nearly dark now.
Gomor huffed. “And you would be that one? Really!” He lay still.
All this talk and Cormo was a bit nervous. “Be quiet, you two. Remember the rules of the wood at night. We must stay quiet.”
They fell silent. Harlequin rustled a bit closer to Cormo, and he felt her feathers brush his. He shivered. Harlequin was his cousin and he had never carried Harlequin within his heart, but being this close to her and her immediate need for his presence was flattering to him. She was unquestionably as tense as they were about being alone in the forest and certainly a good measure more afraid than she sounded, facing the prospect of sleeping by herself with the dangers of night about. Surely she had never done that before. She would in no doubt be huddling this close to any of the covey, or any rabbit for that matter.
And so they settled down, and with dark closing fast, the two quail fell asleep. Gomor lay there listening only for a moment, then began to rummage through the surrounding leaves looking for something to eat.
“W AKE UP !” T HERE came a voice to Cormo like one within a dream, and he fought the web of sleep to reply.
“What is it, Gomor?” said Cormo, his mind tangled within a night’s dreams.
“There is something near!” whispered Gomor.
Then he heard it. The undeniable rush of great wings. His heart seized in his chest at that sound as only the prey can. He spun around to Gomor, who was staring into the black, his eyes attuned to darkness.
Gomor looked over to Harlequin, who had awoken also. She had lowered her head to the ground, her eyes wide and frightened. The rush of wings within the descending dark of night
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