The morning was cold with the scent of frozen dew. The mist clung to the ground despite the hints of light in the sky, refusing to leave until the day had properly started. Amid the rocks that made up the slope by the warren, two groups of rabbits were out. The larger one had someone keeping watch as the others grazed, while the smaller group was one rabbit I didn’t recognize arguing with Fig.

I hopped past the larger group. The frost was already vanishing, but it seemed like a small comfort. The rabbits of this group were tired and had licked off a few patches of fur in their efforts to comfort themselves. At least they seemed okay that morning, able to eat without problems. I chose not to wave at the watch member; she had enough on her mind without my taunts.

The rabbit with Fig was small, maybe half a paw-height shorter than Russet. He was thin and frail, and covered in light fur, not the dried-soil look that Twitch had, but perhaps a shade darker. The heated words he exchanged with Fig sounded serious; Fig’s ears were flat, but still turned to the other rabbit, listening intently. They stopped before I got close enough to overhear.

“Excuse me,” I said, “are you Basil?”

“That name is familiar,” the small rabbit answered. His voice was distant and cold.

“Of course he is,” Fig insisted.

“Don't speak for me! I am not some gibbering seer who only speaks in prophecy.” Basil’s voice remained cold, with the biting edge of frost. “Fine. You may address me as you will. It simply pains me to agree with Fig. His judgment has been questionable lately.”

Fig flinched at that and scratched his nose, which was covered in some sort of drying herb. He didn’t let me ask. “It’s yarrow-root; I ran into a weasel earlier and the cuts reopened.”

“Which is why I was chewing his ears.” Basil glared at Fig before turning to me. His eyes were remarkable: bright and piercing. “My visions say the weasel will make the foxes more aggressive. I think you might know of that, Brem.”

I quickly thought of eating, on the off chance Basil’s visions might see into my mind. That was a mistake; I was hungry. “If you are eating, we could graze and talk of what you saw?”

“Very well.” Basil turned to leave. “Hop with me, Brem. There is a proper tuft of grass nearby. Fig, assist the watch. We don’t need you.”

Fig almost objected, but let out a dejected, “Fine.” Although he did give me a standard, “You’d better not try anything, maverick,” before hopping up the slope to join the other group.

I let Fig have the last word; the watch needed what victories they could get. And perhaps I was a little stunned at Basil’s rudeness.

Basil led me a few short hops further downhill, to a patch of grass that had not yet been eaten. The fact it was hidden behind one of the larger rocks did not escape my notice. My lungs were sore, and I still felt winded. Despite that, I confidently started eating—no use in letting a good meal go to waste.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked when Basil did not join me.

“I had my fill before you arrived.” He looked me over with those cold eyes. “You may tell Lily I am feeling much better.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said, between a few mouthfuls of grass. “What was that about a weasel?”

“Fig ran into a weasel earlier. He’s upset because he lost.” Basil fought a chuckle at the thought. “It was an interesting scuffle. The weasel wanted to get away.”

“He’s lucky to be alive.” I hoped Twitch was okay. Although, Twitch left through the back entrance, uphill by the forest. They shouldn’t have been near each–I interrupted my thoughts again, concerned Basil was baiting me into revealing something. “How can I help?”

“In due time.” Basil chuckled; even his laughter was devoid of warmth. “Why are you here?”

“Lily said you saw the attack, when you had a vision in the meeting chamber.” I gulped, feeling exposed. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I saw foxes underground.” Both of his ears turned to me as he spoke. “They are with us.”

“There has to be more.” I frowned, trying to find the words. “My companion thought there was a scar or something left over from a vision. Could what you saw have been that intense?”

“You want to know if that rift was how the foxes got in; I want to know a bigger question.” He took a hop closer, and I almost jumped back. “There are others who saw the foxes. You could say I saw another vision. One that happened last night. You know what I am talking about, Brem.”

My ears flattened and I lowered my head. Had he seen the fight? Had he seen me offer my services? Visions might offer insight, but that would be bad out of context. “It was to save Oakbud; I’m here to help.” Hopefully, he would see the truth in those words.

“I know you. I know your kind.” He took another hop and poked me with a forepaw. “Meddlers. Liars. You tried to–”

He cut himself off with a hurk. His eyes went wide as he backed away. Pupils big, he gaped at something that seemed above my head. “Fox... You have the soul of a fox.”

I choked back a laugh and looked above me, but I saw nothing. Moving slowly, I sat up and drew back. If he was in a vision, I didn’t want to terrify him. “I’m not; I’m a rabbit.”

“A fox talker.” He continued to cringe; his eyes refused to focus, seeing only whatever vision he was trapped in. “You cannot be a rabbit with that soul.”

I lowered my head again, looking at his feet. “No matter my soul, I live as a rabbit.”

“Impossible!” he shrieked, and shook his head, striking it with his paws. He bolted past me and back uphill, shouting, “Fox! There’s a fox!”

Despite knowing there was no fox, his sincerity gripped me with fear. Rabbits are social, and when one panics, the rest of us follow. I struggled with that instinct as I forced myself to hop around the rock and see how the warren responded.

Rabbits darted underground to hide from the imagined predator. The watch-rabbit guided them to an entrance, with Fig making sure Basil got underground. I sighed; this would never have happened to my father. He could calm rabbits surrounded by a pack of wolves, or a pack of wolves surrounding a group of rabbits. Although, perhaps that would have ended with Basil shouting about plucked eyeballs.

It was the kind of story that was funny after the fact, but living through it hurt.

To give everyone—including myself—time to calm down, I lingered on the view while hopping up the hill. Dawn had arrived, and the mist was fading. The rocks really did look like they were emerging from the ground, as if an avalanche had stopped halfway. The beauty was a cold-comfort, like Lord Sun’s light in the almost-winter air, like the warren itself; all the trappings of warmth but only emptiness.

And a rabbit collapsed in a hollow.

I got there as fast as I could. Missing whole tufts of fur with slightly chewed ears, he had tried to escape through one of the dead-end openings that didn’t lead to a run. Be it from the shock of not finding an entrance or the fear he’d have to run to another shelter, his body had given up hope. His breathing was shallow; only visible because of the wintery air. His eyes had rolled back, and he’d gone limp.

“Come on, stay with us. There’s still hope.” I leaned against him; he was getting cold. Desperate, I tried to get a shoulder under one of his forelegs; maybe I could carry him. He didn’t respond, and I couldn’t even get him on his feet. “Hold on, I’ll get help.”

Which was complicated by being unsure where the actual entrances were. A stamp got the watch-rabbit to look out from one of the rocks. I hopped up to her.

“Someone collapsed; we need to get him underground.”

She hesitated, unsure who I was, then turned and called, “Fig! Bring the Prince Twilight’s Heart!”

“But Willow, it’s our last one,” Fig called back. “Please, is there any other way?”

“We don’t have time to argue,” I shouted. “The rabbit who collapsed is already cold from shock. Get it and hurry up!”

“But–”

“There was no fox! Basil panicked from a vision.” I grunted. “Come on!”

Thankfully, Willow, the watch-rabbit, followed me. We pressed against the collapsed rabbit for warmth as Fig got the herb.

Once Fig saw the collapsed rabbit, all doubt and argument went away. Willow held the victim’s head, gently opening their mouth. Fig shook a ball of what smelled like chamomile, wrapped around valerian root, from behind one ear. He pre-chewed it and quickly spit the mashed mixture into the victim’s mouth.

We huddled together, comfort and warmth in a small group. Slowly, the rabbit stirred, and we all breathed a little relief. We had gotten to him in time. Willow stayed with him as Fig decided someone needed to be blamed.

“You vagabond!” Fig grunted, giving me a cuff. “You and your kind might live on the exhilaration of tricks, running to and from danger, but we can’t. Whatever you did to scare Basil might have killed someone.”

“Sir!” Willow interrupted. “Bremen saved Clover. Before you chew anyone’s ears, let’s get him underground.”

Willow and I helped Clover on either side, as Fig gave him a push when needed. Fig grumbled as we went, “Please, the warren is spread so thin. Shaking things up will only make things worse. And we used our last Twilight’s Heart on a scare that could have been avoided.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, ears flat again. While Basil’s fear wasn’t my fault, I should have anticipated the possibility he’d have seen whatever he saw in that vision. But how could I? No other seer had ever mentioned the ridiculous idea of my fox-soul.

“Fig,” Willow offered, “we all know what happened with Snowbell. Yes, Bremen caused a panic, but you know how Basil gets. No one died, and Clover will recover. Besides, if nothing changes this awful schedule, we know how that will turn out. We’ll all be dead before spring.”

“Please, what if it gets worse?” Fig whimpered as we got Clover into a run. “The foxes might move in for winter, when it’s too cold for anyone to leave and we’re all trapped inside.”

“That sounds like a terrible story,” Willow agreed. She frowned and addressed me. “We’ll get Clover to the audience chamber; a crowd should do him good. Don’t feel too bad. Basil used to lash out a lot, between a father who tried to beat the visions out of him and bullies who found it funny to trigger them through stress. I don’t believe you did it on purpose. And I don’t think Fig does either.”

There was nothing more to say. They headed down one of the runs and I sighed. The triumphant tale of terrifying the local seer and almost killing one of the remaining rabbits was not what I wanted. Hopefully Russet would be back from his meeting with Sylvia, with a lead, and we’d be able to get a proper start to the adventure.

Although, best to look at the story you’re in, not the one you want. Fig wasn’t being open about how he reopened his cuts and I could check with Twitch when we met that evening. At least Fig didn’t accuse me of scaring Clover on purpose and try to get me run out of the warren. Basil seemed more likely to—oh no. The classic misunderstanding of a trickster's intent leading to an accusation of working with the enemy.

I bolted to the king’s meeting chamber and skid to a halt when I noticed Mulberry standing guard. From the chamber was a heated argument, full of shouting and grunts.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Basil was almost screeching. “I know what I saw! I know my visions! Who has he talked to? Where has he been? What has he told you?”

“Bremen isn’t a fox.” Oakbud kept his voice even and calm. “And he risked his life for me.”

I winced. What else had Oakbud told Basil?

“He brought the foxes to you!” Basil grunted. “That soul is dangerous. You don’t believe me. You never cared about my visions before the foxes arrived! You should care now!”

“I do care,” Oakbud said. “And before the foxes arrived, your father wouldn’t let you tell anyone your visions.”

“You could have stopped him. Sir.” Basil lowered his voice, which only condensed the anger. “Bremen is dangerous. He is one of them. He will get rabbits killed.”

Mulberry sighed and grunted. “Sir? He’s here.”

“I can wait,” I offered.

“Basil,” Oakbud said, “while I trust him, I also trust you. On your word, I will have a watch member stay with him and his friend.”

“Is that it?” He snarled at Oakbud, “You don’t believe he’s dangerous but his kind and his soul will bring blood. You might as well kill them with your own claws.”

With that, Basil shoved past Mulberry and me, mumbling to himself. I kept my mouth shut and let him go; I wondered what he’d think when he found out that we almost scared Clover to death. Oakbud needed to know, and I might as well confess my part. With the current situation, at least exile wasn’t an option.

Oakbud composed himself. “Come in, Bremen. Mulberry, you too.” He grunted in frustration, then laughed at the absurdity. “Perhaps your father’s beliefs are genuine. Unfortunately, that means that the watch and I need to know, how did your father know this fox and what effect does it have on your offer to help?”

My ears flattened. “My father is a trickster and a storyteller. He also doesn’t believe in enemies; everyone deserves help. Sometimes, a predator he helps will stay in contact and they develop a friendship. Which means they stop eating rabbits; sometimes that works out; sometimes that causes issues. Bremen, the fox I’m named after, uh...” I flicked my ears a bit. “They met when my father found Bremen injured by an owl and patched him up. I know Bremen died leading a pack of wolves away from my dad.”

Mulberry flicked his ears between Oakbud and me. “So, would you help the foxes?”

“What? No!” I objected. “I mean, if there was an injured fox or weasel, that’s one thing, or if this was a group of foxes that got displaced by a bear then dealing with the bear might help them move on... but there’s a hatred to this schedule that goes beyond their survival. These foxes aren’t killing out of hunger and they’re not here because of a bigger predator or famine or anything; they’re here to give pain and despair. They need to be stopped.”

Mulberry nodded. “I believe you. Not sure if I believe you’re a fox reborn as a rabbit, though.”

“I don’t believe it myself,” I said. “Basil’s vision was the only one that said anything about it. Until this morning, my dad was the only one who said it. Others didn’t contradict him, but I don’t think anyone thought he was right.”

“No matter,” Oakbud said. “You saved me last night; that’s the spirit of a rabbit. I trust that.”

“I suppose. Uh, when Basil got spooked, Clover collapsed. We used the last of the Prince Twilight’s Heart to revive him.” I frowned. “I’m sorry. Basil is right; I’m getting rabbits killed.”

“It’s impossible to predict when a seer might run screaming; do not blame yourself.” Oakbud kept his voice even; only the slightest quiver in his words hinted at frustration. “Besides, Basil’s visions aren’t always as clear as he thinks. Misunderstanding them contributed to Snowbell’s death. Overall, his visions have saved lives and I believe they contain some truth. I won’t blindly follow them, but it won’t hurt to have someone with you to be safe.”

“I understand, sir. The watch member may make it difficult to talk tonight.”

“It’s not a punishment.” Oakbud explained, “If you’re concerned, Mulberry can watch you tonight. If need be, he will stand outside the meeting if I ask.”

“I’m sorry I caused so much trouble.” I sighed. This felt wrong; I was supposed to be in trouble for riling up the foxes, not for upsetting warren members. Not for almost scaring rabbits to death.

“Nonsense,” Mulberry said. “I am not sure if this new hope is a good thing, but if we are going to die this winter, I’d rather make a final stand. At least we’ll know we tried. We should have a real story, keep everyone together outside or in the central chamber, so they’ll have to take all of us.”

“Maybe you’ll want to wait until tonight or tomorrow before announcing that. Oakbud may change his mind after our discussion.” I hesitated, then added. “We still have tomorrow. If we can figure out how the foxes are getting underground, we can even make it safe.”

Oakbud nodded. “If we’re going to invite an attack, I want some time to plan. The warren is small enough to get everyone together for the full day. Bramble was planning similar when he was killed. He said there’d be no way for a fox’s-paw to hide, but if the foxes have a seer, that could complicate things. For now, keep things quiet. I’ll make the final decision tomorrow night.”

Mulberry balked. “Foxes can’t be seers, only rabbits. And the occasional blind rat.”

“Nothing is simple where seers are concerned. And if the foxes are using a seer-trick to coerce rabbits, that makes things quite messy,” I said. “Oakbud, thank you for your trust. I was planning to wait for Russet to return. Maybe I can let Lily know that Basil was eating again.”

“I’m sure she’s checking the repairs on the central cavern, if not now then soon,” Oakbud said. “Mulberry, talk to Fig, and figure out who will keep an eye on Bremen. Meet him there. I’ll talk to Clover and reassure him myself.”

There was nothing more to say. I wasn’t sure if I felt worse about spooking Basil or that everyone was cleaning up my mess. The short hop to the meeting area left me wondering what went wrong. Fig and Basil were acting odd, but there were simple explanations and I didn’t know them well enough to have a gut reaction. I wanted to blame the foxes, say that Basil was stressed by them or under the effects of the seer-trick, but that could have been wishful thinking. Talking to Twitch would help. Knowing if they lied would help.

The central chamber was empty, and the air seemed lighter. It felt lonely, like it was waiting for new rabbits to fill the space. Whatever Russet did the day prior had worked.

I hopped among the pillars, like trees in an underground forest. There were no memories for me, but I felt the history, the reverberations of stories. The king or storyteller in the center, his voice echoing everywhere, like he was a friend you were next to. Kits playing around the pillars, games of chase or speed to see who could run among them the fastest. Alcoves and areas where small groups could have privacy. I wanted that to return. I wanted to tell a story in this place.

Lost in the simplicity of that thought, I absently checked for a fox-sized exit I might have missed. The hope of a proper story distracted me and I almost missed the footfalls as someone entered the chamber.

Before I could call to them, there was the scent of fox and a very real fear scattered my imaginings. I flicked my ears, listening, I couldn’t tell where the fox had come from, or if their footsteps were the ones I had heard. Briefly I thought I should flee, but I was frustrated by my lack of answers. Maybe I could make this my story.

“Who’s there?”

“We met last night.” His voice was low and melodic, almost playful. The smaller fox from the night before. He sounded almost giddy. “I am Chimera. You will tell the warren my name.”

I could hear him circling the room slowly; I circled opposite him. “If you’ll tell me how you got in here. That only seems fair.”

“I am here because I want to be. Bremen. You shouldn’t fear me.” I heard him shift, sitting down. “Come closer.”

My foot moved before I caught myself and leaned against a pillar. The order felt stronger than the night before. “Did you use that seer-trick to get in here? Does it open the walls for you?”

“We thought you understood.” He laughed. “I was going to show you. Show them all.”

Slowly, I got my limbs back under my control. “After two seasons, you’ll just let us know?”

“When you join.”

Joining was linked to how they got into the warren. It had to be a seer-trick, some eldritch use of visions I’d never heard of. But I wasn’t going to get him to slip up unless I guessed what he meant.

The sound of a rabbit chattering in fear cut the tension between us.

“Stay.” Chimera ordered them. “We need someone to see the show.”

The response was weak and barely above a whisper. “Help.” Lily had come to check on the repairs. Had she just arrived? Was she the someone I heard earlier?

I leapt around a pillar and struck Chimera’s side with a head-butt. He barely moved, and I’ve made wolves at least stumble with that strike. I backed away.

“Good. Show me that strength.”

Chimera rushed me. I side-hopped; his teeth caught a bit of my fur.

“Lily, run!”

She kept chattering, paralyzed with fear and the seer-order. Desperate to give her time to recover, I circled closer to Chimera. With a leap, I bounded off a pillar and went for his hind legs. He turned and smacked me with the side of his muzzle. It sent me rolling along the ground.

He shouldn’t have been able to respond that fast and he hit like a bear. Maybe it was a seer trick; maybe I couldn’t see how much I hurt him; maybe I was in real trouble.

I made my body stand. “Lily, focus. It’s only fear. You can still run.” No turning back; I leapt straight for the sound of Chimera’s breathing. I spun around and hit his muzzle with both my back feet. He stood his ground and pushed back; knocked me along the ground again. How could he be that strong?

I dug my front claws into the ground. Turned away, body tensed. One back leg tensed, only dug-in claws stopped the kick. The other ready to hop and unleash the tension. Just like with the badger.

Chimera pounced.

Right into a kick with the speed and power of a coiled snake. My foot struck between his forelegs, right at his neck. Perfect aim.

And he ignored it. His weight crashed down and pinned me on the ground with his forepaws. On my side, with my limbs flailing uselessly away from him, as he slowly crushed the air out of my lungs.

He turned to Lily, not letting go. “I’ll be right with you. No. Don’t run. Stay.”

I let out a wheeze as he eased up on my ribs. Just enough to keep me conscious.

Chimera’s breath was warm on the back of my neck. “Konal. Show me this curious fox.”

Slowly, he sunk his teeth into my left shoulder. Pain ran down my foreleg as he chewed lightly then released.

“Don’t pass out.” He whispered in my ear, “You should see what I do to Lily. Don’t worry, I won’t kill her. It’s not a fourth day.”

Lily pressed against a wall; her legs uselessly tried to push her through it. Chimera left me on the ground and walked toward the sounds of her scraping.

I forced myself to inhale and choked out, “Don’t touch her.”

“Yes!” He turned back to me with a mad chuckle. “I want to see how strong this fox really is.”

My lungs burned; my left foreleg wouldn’t take weight. Despite that, I got my other legs under me and sat up. Each word was a battle, but my voice—my father’s voice—did not give out. “Touch her and you’ll regret it.”

Thankfully, I heard the stomp of another rabbit. Chimera snorted in annoyance and ran past me, into the back of the cavern. I was in no shape to follow.

“What’s going on?” It was Mulberry.

My breath was shallow and wheezing. The acidic taste of bile filled my mouth and nose. Without the need to protect Lily, all that came out was a gurgle. I was glad for the darkness; I probably looked like death.

Lily spoke first, “The fox attacked us. You scared him off.”

Other rabbits entered, attracted by the stomp. I slumped to the ground in a haze of pain. Unlike the night before, the world didn’t fade. The pain kept me awake. I heard Oakbud call for an herb.

“There was another attack.” Lily explained to everyone, “I was foolish and walked into the fox stalking Bremen. He struggled to save me and got hurt. I was about to be killed when Mulberry showed up. I don’t know why, but it fled when Mulberry stomped.”

“There’s no sign of him here. The trail ends at the wall.” Fig was suddenly at my side, sniffing lightly at my wound. He asked, “Are you okay?”

I managed a few words. “He bit my shoulder. He was playing with me.”

Fig spread some kind of paste on my shoulder. It felt cool and dulled the pain slightly. “More yarrow root. It will stop the bleeding.” He added, “I’m sorry if it hurts, but it can’t be helped.”

“Why would they do this?” Oakbud asked. “We already know we’re vulnerable down here.”

“They’re getting ready to reveal something,” I said, standing up. I coughed up a bit of something, blood, bile, whatever it was burned. “He called himself Chimera. He wanted me to tell the warren his name. This is my fault.”

To my surprise, Fig objected. “No. Please, this was coming for a while.”

“They’re changing the rules.” Mulberry grunted. “Or adding new ones.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s a game to them. To see how much pain they can inflict. They loved that the warren wasn’t sure they were real. But we’ve seen them now. Chimera fled because he didn’t want us to see how he got out. That’d ruin his fun.” Ideas jumbled together, but refused to stick. My strength gave out, and I collapsed again. “Lily, Mulberry and I have seen them. We’ll be the next victims.”

Oakbud winced at the implication. He’d seen them as well. So had Russet and Twitch.

Fig said, “You’re injured. I’ll keep a close eye on you.”

“What of the schedule?” someone shouted. “They won’t wait!”

Oakbud called for order. “The schedule was a trick to get us to fear them. They only kept to it because it was working.”

“If it stops working, there will be more attacks,” someone else objected.

It met with a round of agreement from the others. I hoped this wasn’t the start of another story arc. Bitten by a fox and run out of the warren by an angry mob; my father would be very disappointed.

Lily interrupted, her voice strong and grounded. “Whatever reason the foxes have for attacking, they found it without Bremen. They would have done so again.”

And suddenly, there was nothing more to say on the matter.