Rabbit Season
Prologue: Hardship Ahead
Newfoundland homes mild summers with bearable temperatures and the elderly and overgrown conifer forests which ransack the province are also the prime environment for rabbits. The forests sprout many berries for them to feed off and the ever green trees and moss flourish low to the ground which hides the rabbits from predators while plucking berries and seeds to nibble on with utmost security. Rabbit fur, generally white in Newfoundland, can be excellently camouflaged against the pristinely white snow, making it difficult for even the deadliest predators to spot a fleeing rabbit. While winters rarely dip negative fifteen degrees below, the island, surrounded by the frigid Atlantic Ocean, is prone to violent and sharp winds, devastating blizzards and feet and feet of hard and relentless snow. Perhaps the worst part is how quickly these weather changes occur; one minute it could be calm and sunny winter's day, and the next minute the sky is strewn with foreboding clouds coating the entire earth in the sky's thick entrails. Also in the winter, predators are constantly alert for any sign of tiny prey and all the nourishment for the island's rodents are buried deep beneath pounds of snow making food limited.
Bears, eagles, hawks, lynxes, owls, martins and foxes are amongst the animals which avidly feed on the province's thriving rabbit population. Each adapted with traits to hunt and survive the island's haphazard climate. Versatility-wise, the lynx is the most efficient predator. Lighting fast reflexes backed up by brutish muscles, keen and cat-like smell, hearing and sight, and to top it all off, equipped with unforgiving claws and a grip of solid steel which can spill the blood of any rabbit with ease.
*
It was late October and already the early signs of a blistering winter were evident: semi-frozen earth, sudden plummeting temperatures and stripping trees. In the outskirts of a vast and tangled coniferous forest lived a rather large family of rabbits whom inhabited a den below the trunk of a once-grand, but now dying maple tree.
Gaston was the only survivor of his mother's litter. He had lived with his mother, Coco, and his father, O'Hare, since birth. They'd always lived in the same den, in the same patch, in the same forest and in the same province—Newfoundland and Labrador. Gaston is outspoken and blunt; he says what is on his mind when he feels like saying it. His moods sway like the rocking of the Atlantic. Never knowing how Gaston will react to what you say, it's wise to watch your tongue around him. Although ignorant at times, he is a devoted, selfless parent and his love for his entire family is unquestionable. Brimming with pride and honor, Gaston is easily insulted. Though behind that exterior is the heart of a god.
Gaston's spouse, Dotty, was raised from a massive family on a rabbit farm on the island's opposite end. Eventually, everyone in her family was slaughtered and used as food for the farm family. Luckily for her, Jennifer, the farmer's daughter, took a fancy to Dotty's round eyes and cute cotton tail. After much pleading from Jennifer, the farmer spared Dotty and she was domesticated as Jennifer's pet—her best friend. When Jennifer's family moved across the island, they took Dotty with them. For years and years Jennifer had loved Dotty, until one day, Jennifer spontaneously decided she was far too old for a rabbit and Dotty was released into the wilderness. That's where she and Gaston had met; locking eyes amongst a blueberry bush, it was love at first sight. Unassuming, things easily faze Dotty and she is effortlessly tricked. Down-to-earth yet complex, Dotty finds it difficult to lie and even more difficult to enforce discipline. Her past has deeply wounded her heart and she is susceptibly vulnerable because of this. Her kin are always before her, though, a truly loving mother. Her children are her life and she is not afraid to show it.
Gaston and Dotty went on to have four children. The first born was Hunter, and ironically enough, he was caught in a snare trap set up by a hunter and was killed almost instantly as the snare's metal grinded his bones. It was years until the grieving couple decided they'd try parenting again and, due to Dotty's severely traumatic past, Hunter's early death stirred the memory cauldron to the brink.
Dotty first had twins: Genji and Tiffany, and they cannot be more different. Despite this, the two rarely bicker and you'd never guess they were siblings because their rivalry is so humbled. Like many twins, they have a mental connection which is misunderstood by all outside the pair; things such as always knowing the other's moods.
Tiffany is a spunky, vain and one could even go as far to say arrogant. She is the first to jump to conclusions and her love for drama causes issues within the family. Her loyalty to her brother is undoubted, though, as well as his to hers. Genji is constantly collected and not very easily excited. The first to volunteer berry-picking duty, Genji is courageous and incredibly nimble. Never opinionated, Genji follows general order and waits for demands to be given to him instead of seeking them solo. Often finding himself lost or useless without orders, Genji is prone to loafing about the den and doing bar-none an entire day.
Their final child is Bunnie. The youngest of the den, Bunnie is often viewed as the family's baby kit and obviously so due to her naiveté and innocent charm that seems to ooze from her fur. Living the harsh and strenuous life of a rabbit has drained Bunnie of some of the typical juvenile behaviors of a creature so young. Naturally curious, she dives head first into trouble without realizing their true hazards. Escaping the danger's grasps due to her family's watchful eye, Bunnie has remained unscarred and adorable.
*
Shyly, the early morning rays of the sun crept down into the rabbit hole. Coco stuck her head from the den's hole and to the outside. Her tail swiveled intuitively yet the remainder of her body remained immobile, chiseled with concentration. After a few more seconds, she scurried back down the narrow trail and into the den's living room; a collection of pebbles and dirt following her down the slope.
The wrinkles in her face revealed the experience of her life, the wisdom she had to share and how cunning she really was. Like a façade, Coco's visage did not reveal her true age nor did it advertise that she was an elder not to be underestimated or taken for granted. The truth of Coco lied deeper and proclaimed that she was, indeed, an elder to be reckoned with and not discarded. As she approached O'Hare and Gaston, her wrinkles were furrowed.
O'Hare knew this was indeed a bad sign. He adjusted himself on the grass cushion he sat on and prepared for his wife's telling, trying to keep his eyes to himself until she spoke.
To his shock, she said nothing, but stiffly walked to the bookcase right past Gaston and him. O'Hare exchanged a look of bafflement with his son.
"Don't tell me, my dear wife, that you think after 40 years of marriage I know not when you're upset,"O'Hare said endearingly. "Please tell us what's on your mind."
She firmly clasped the book shut and put it back into the bookshelf.
"Ma?" Gaston urged on, turning his head to look at her. "C'mon! What's the matter?"
She bit her lip as she turned to face them.
"I fear this season's winter." Coco's expression was still scrunched.
"We'll muck through it, Ma, like we always do!" her son cried nonchalantly.
"We're going to need more than that this winter, Gaston," she spoke sternly. "Already the ground is freezing and I've noticed that our berry patches are browning quicker than ever before! The trees tell of misfortune as well. They're stripped bare and it is not even Halloween."
Both O'Hare and Gaston knew this much was true. Gaston's toes stung of coldness as their den was already coated with a very slight layer of ice.
"Coco, we'll prepare early!" O'Hare exclaimed. "Genji, Gaston and I can run out every dew-rise and collect every berry in sight! While you and Dotty weave thicker blankets from the grass we'll gather! Even little Bunnie can help, we'll make a game out of it and she can stick along the den and pluck."
The aging rabbit bunched the back of her dress in her paw. She hated how simple her husband made everything sound, regardless of how complex it was in reality.
"It's not that easy!" Coco cried, suddenly succumbing to her frustration. "The grasses, mosses and berries are disappearing, shriveling at the havoc of this premature winter! Since yesterday I can already notice they've plummeted in amount or withered; every strand of grass acres from our den is brown and wispy, useless to weave even into the most meager of quilts!"
There was a creak of a door opening from down the hallway, followed by wary footsteps. Dotty walked out from around the corner.
"What is going on here? You three are disrupting the children's sleep. It is still too early for them to be awake…" Dotty's voice was sluggish, she had just woken up.
Bunnie's large eyes and ears poked out from behind Dotty's shirt.
Seeing her granddaughter, Coco morphed her expression instantaneously.
Without saying a word or making a sound, Coco walked from the bookcase, past O'Hare, then Dotty and down the hallway to her chamber. She lovingly ran her hand through Bunnie's hair as she past—the children could not know of the dilemma.