The Heckling Hare Novels & Stories

That was when all the soft melodies echoing around them instantly stopped. “KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” RINGGGGGGGGGGG! The screaming noise hit the two from within the Castle walls while vibrating through its entire building. As if it made the Castle tremble, then swayed side to side as if a strong current pushed against it— “KRAKE!!! WHY ARE YOU LETTING A MONSTER THROUGH?!” An echoing girly voice was heard. Harriet stroked both of her ears, mumbling tiredly, “Come on... why this again...?”

“Your scent isn’t from around here. And I can’t smell your pack.” “Well,” Hazel said, “maybe that’s because I don’t HAVE a pack. Maybe I was raised by—uh—by rabbits! Yes! A wild rabbit pack! Raised me as their own! I was the fastest digger, the greatest carrot thief! They called me ‘Hops-a-lot’!” The second guard burst out laughing. The first guard groaned, rubbing his temples. “I swear to the Moon Goddess, if you say one more ridiculous thing—” “Okay, fine!” Hazel threw her hands up. “I was adopted by a band of traveling circus performers! That’s why I smell weird. Have you ever been near a fire juggler? Very smokey. Hard to wash out.”

I was a boy—some eleven or twelve years, maybe—with a pair of legs as white as the moon, suspect quaking with only the weight of manifest horror. The air was thick with dampness from the earth, mixed with something sharper, something that spoke of presence: in a far-off corner, a hare was hiding, matted brown fur streaked with dirt and large, wide round eyes that seemed to glint lithely in the darkness. It remained there unmoving, staring at me, the breath shallow, like the angry, heaving of a chest.

“Great, now you sound like our trainers.” “There’s a difference, though. We grew up with each other. The guy with the gut wound could be my brother or my cousin, my best friend. Get the idea?” “So, who are these Hell Hounds to you then? So that we know.” “Aria Redgrave. First cousin and a couple of years younger than I am. She’s the computer expert I was talking about, Hal. Please don’t get on her nasty side, or she will waste your time with so much computer nastiness your head will spin. Then we have Devine Kelos. She’s relatively new to our team, but she’s got a nose that can hunt anyone or anything down in a blink of an eye. It’s scary to watch Hilda play a game with Devine. Hunt for the

“No way.” Christine threw the hare down, wiping blood off on her shorts. Out of breath she thumped down next to Chase, her chest rising and falling erratically. “You didn’t catch this, did you?” He picked up the hare, noticing the bite marks at the throat. He frowned at her, concern making his face hard. She shook her head, still out of breath. “Then how did you get this?” he shook the dead hare at her. “Cat. Long story. Scared it off.” She panted.

But he still taught me what I would need to survive the process of collecting them. Some of the ingredients weren’t dangerous so much as difficult. Take the Farse Wild Hare, for example: harmless, skittish, and almost indistinguishable from common wild hares. The only difference was a subtle spiral pattern on the underside of its tail and a peculiar micro-flick of its ears every few seconds. They hid among regular hare colonies, using the herd’s numbers to make spotting them nearly impossible. Dryden had shown me how to pick them out in motion. How to watch the herd as a whole, then catch the anomaly without locking eyes—because the moment you focused, the Farse would bolt.

Meagan asked Brianna who giggled. “I can hear you!” Hazel said loudly. “Slavery era ended a long time ago.” Brianna replied. “I am stuck with you, Meagan Swift! You deserve all the happiness in the world, so give another man a chance in your life!” Hazel screamed from the rooms “Shut up, Hazel!” Meagan shot back. “We have just ten minutes to call time.” Brianna reminded as she took out a small brush from her bag to redo her hair. Hazel is an iota wolf which means a worker that works at the pack infirmary treating wolves.

I hear my stomach growl as the words part away from my lips in a rush, my mouth watering while I think of all the possibilities of what he might have found. After spending the last four weeks surviving on nothing more than foraged rowan berries and the endless supply of velvet shank mushrooms we had found on the dying trees, I would consider any alternative a feast at this point. Laughing at my over-enthusiastic response, Ash swings his arm out from behind him—emphasising his grand reveal while beaming towards me triumphantly. Awaiting my reaction, he proudly holds out a large, brown hare by the ears. Almost unscathed, and barely any blood to soak the creature’s fur.

Two long hare ears stood upright atop her head, twitching, tracking every sound. A hare beastman. Speed was her forte. My brows shot up. Wolf versus hare. Nature had a sense of irony. The crowd adored her. They stomped and chanted her name. “Alyra! Alyra! Alyra!” like she was already the victor. She lifted two short spears and twirled them with fluid grace before settling into a fighting stance. Damn. She might not look it, but she was skilled. Xaden’s words echoed in my mind.

Grace began softly, her voice carrying a strange weight: “In a vast forest ruled only by wolves, there came a lone hare. The wolves had already hunted every other creature, dominating the land with teeth and claws. But this hare fragile, juicy, foolish enough to step into their territory, surely had only one fate. The wolves lunged. The hare darted, not away, but straight between them. Snarls and howls filled the meadow as the wolves collided, snapping at each other in confusion. The hare vanished into the tall grass.