“And now it begins.” sighed Fiver, sniffing the air, his half-chewed carrot left to one side.Hazel, covered in alfalfa, stopped rolling. “What do you mean?” Even he had to admit something was off. So much food and clean bedding, and all these gormless white bunnies. It didn’t seem right.
“The car-registration tax. Why would he drop it?” Fiver worried his forepaw. He always got a little shaky when he thought about the farmer.
Hazel knew he should listen when Fiver got jumpy. Back at their old warren in Niagara South they’d narrowly escaped being run over by a Hudak.
[Image from: d.cairns.wordpress.com]
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