by Eileen Norman

Created on: August 05, 2009

Fox and Rabbit

Fox was lanky and laid-back with a hands-in-pockets sort of slouch that

somehow suggested penny loafers. Mostly his narrow eyes would

sparkle humorous blue, only occasionally lapsing into fanged grey. But

when they did, it was easy to imagine a helpless quarry transfixed by

that piercing glance; its frozen terror laced with a tiny shivery anticipation.

For all his casual, devil-may-care airs, Fox wasn't someone you'd want

to irritate.

Worldly wise, he pragmatically accepted the ecological morality of

predators and prey, but he had developed a delicacy of manners in

this regard. He considered himself, after all, quite civilized, even

somewhat cultured. So he tended to the more sordid realities of survival

in the solitude of forest shadow, never really indulging himself in feasting

and taking only small pride in his hunting prowess.

Wintering this year in the Smokies, Fox had spent the afternoon

renewing old acquaintances and had only belatedly responded to

insistent hunger pangs. Slipping silently through evergreens thick with

moonlit snow, Fox quickly spotted a chubby grey rabbit emerging from a

burrow. It hopped lopsidedly across the snow, leaving a peculiar, uneven

trail; a crippled older rabbit, but still a respectable and convenient supper

on a cold wintry night.

Fox moved fast, cornering the rabbit at the base of a large curved boulder.

To his surprise, the rabbit turned and looked him in the eyes steadily,

neither trembling with fright, nor making any frantic efforts to escape. It

simply waited calmly, looking at Fox with its large, brown, solemn eyes.

Fox hesitated.There was something disconcerting about such unrabbitlike

behavior.

Well? questioned the Rabbit in a soft womanly voice.

Well, what? Fox responded in amazement. He had never heard a rabbit

speak before. He hadn't known they could. Somehow that changed every

thing.

Well, aren't you going to devour me? she replied. I thought that's what

foxes do for a living!

It's certainly what I originally intended, Fox laughed. But now, of course,

it's out of the question!

Why? the Rabbit demanded almost angrily.

Because one shouldn't converse with one's dinner! It really just isn't done!

Fox snapped testily, as if he resented having to explain such an obvious

social propriety.

To his astonishment, the Rabbit began to sob quietly. Large, glistening

tears rolled down her cheeks dropping

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