"Because I could not stop for death," muttered May Belle, her eyes unfocussed as she stared at the stars, "He kindly stopped for me." She paused for breath, trying to remember what these words meant. But they didn't have to make sense, she reasoned in her stretching mind as she sat at the base of the hill, her legs in the brush and her short, false blond hair sticking to the side of her face as she sweat in the denim overalls that she bore.

These words comforted her like none other could. As she closed her eyes, she saw them inscribed in a tight, red leather notebook, written in dark blue ink that was set to paper by her mother's smooth, clean hand writing. May Belle's mother had always had a funny love for art in words, as she called it. Emily Dickinson was one much admired by the two women, and so May Belle took it as a link to her mother.

"The carriage held but just ourselves," she finally continued after pausing, "And Immortality."

Immortality, she wondered, tossing over and closing her eyes once more. To never die? I suppose it's a fine thought when you know what's coming… Then she questioned herself on saying this. Do I know what's coming? She opened her eyes once more, feeling she must do something. Obviously she wouldn't be able to get to sleep, and so May Belle pondered this thought, listening to it rattling inside her head, bouncing off the sides, and she asked it again. Do I know what's to come of me? Is tonight my last?

With this unsettling thought, she tried to clear her throat and immediately regretted it. She grabbed up at it, the inside feeling drier than sawdust. "That's just great," she muttered. "Here I am, fever over 100, and I'm dying of thirst. Where's that rain when you need it?" She complained bitterly like this to no one in particular, trying to wring any ideas that she could out of her mind.

Water… Water… She focused hard, feeling as if she was onto something. She needed water. Literally, she'd die before the morning if she stayed as dehydrated as this, and already she could feel her energy draining. Help me… May Belle prayed, shivering.

When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer at Watership Down. She was just a short walk down a path off the base of the hill, to where she saw… Yes! A stream, running just along the spot where a small hill sloped off, filled her vision. Before her mind had fully returned to where her body sat, she was already on her feet, sputtering coughs that filled the night air.

Sparrow grunted as he slept heavily, sighing in his sleep and inching along in the dirt floor of his burrow. He didn't stay asleep for long, though, because he had hardly gotten into it when he felt a kick on his hind legs. He was immediately up.

"What!" Sparrow demanded, looking around in the darkness. The only one there was a startled Yale, who looked back at him innocently. Sparrow narrowed his eyes. "Yale, damn you, why would you do that?"

"Can't you hear it?" asked Yale as if she were some great mystic rabbit. She looked as if she had been thrown across the room just a few moments ago, being still half asleep.

Not getting to an answer to his question, Sparrow stared down at the runt with growing anger and confusion. "Hear what, Yale?" he asked, deciding to take the bait as to whatever his sister was leading him towards.

"The girl, Sparrow. She's leaving the warren."

"That's lovely," chirped Sparrow, his voice dripping with false happiness. Then he turned toward the wall and mumbled, "Now, go away."

Yale nipped her brother's ear for his attention once more. "There's something wrong with her, though. Brother, she's going off on her own! What if she stumbles into a mess? Please, come with me to make sure she's alright."

Sparrow stared at the runt as if she had fallen from the sky. "Follow her? In the dead of night? You're off you're rocker, Yale. Get some rest, and maybe in the morning you'll be talking sense."

Yale pouted, upset by Sparrow's reaction, and looked toward the run that glowed faintly in the bent moonlight. That only made her more anxious to get out there. "I'm going whether you're with me or not."

"You wouldn't—" started Sparrow, but she was already gone.

Had it been anyone else, Sparrow would've turned back over and gone to sleep; but this was Yale. He couldn't leave one of his most trusted companions to go off into the world by herself like that. As he pulled himself after the hyperactive kitten, he realized how smart she was, her being well aware of how much he loved her. I'll kill her for that.

By the time May Belle had even reached the stream, her vision had started to swim once more. She sat by the side of it to collect herself, dipping her fingers into the clean water as she stared dumbly down the slope she sat upon.

The wind was slow, but it came up the hill at her, sweeping back her hair and leaving her ears to register the noises that the night brought. Instead of a regular swishing sounds of animals in trees, however, she heard something more; something terribly frightening that made May Belle's arms quiver and her heart murmur.

"Mother! Mother! Can't you feel it?" asked a small voice from far away. May Belle looked up, alarmed. She was sure she'd heard something, and it was not just the whispers of the wind. Everything she knew began to scream that something was out there.

"Hello?" she tried to call out, but it was her dry throat that saved her cover, her voice only coming out in a whisper. No one heard the failed attempt to speak, so the voice stayed oblivious to May Belle's presence.

Perhaps… May Belle considered when no response came. Perhaps I'm hallucinating from dehydration? I might just be hearing things, hearing ghosts like mother did when she stayed sick in bed…

At the remembrance of her mother, sick and dying, May Belle leaned over the stream and drank as long as she could, trying to turn her mind to something else. Water on her throat was a relief after going so long. She splashed it around her face in an attempt to bring down her temperature. Then she heard it again.

"No, mother!" came the voice louder. "I'm sure of it. This is where it happened."

May Belle could hear no response and see no owner of the voice. She only stared out over the hill as wind ran its fingers through her locks.

"Mother, Zile was attacked hear, I'm sure of it; I can see it… I can feel it."

The bushes began to rustle at the foot of the hill, and May Belle heard a snarl, as if replying to the voice.

"No… no… I can't explain it. But I can smell the blood in the wind. The ones that live here—the ones that brought him to his death—I can see now! They were…"

And then May Belle's blood seemed to stop running as out of the bushes stepped two figures. Two foxes: A long, withered gray one and a smaller red one. What she saw was only the half of her fright, though. It was what she heard…

"Rabbits!" continued the small fox, opening his eyes. "This sense that's told me so many things has come to me once more, and I swear to the moon that it was rabbits who killed my brother."

May Belle sat trembling, still crouching over the stream as she listened to the impossible fox speak. When the larger one spoke, it only growled and made noises expected of an animal.

"Yes…" agreed the small fox, cocking his ears. "They will pay. Zile had a good heart. Brother, rest your soul. We'll avenge for you. This I swear." May Belle's mouth opened wide like she might scream, and her vision began to turn spotted.

The little fox had the look of a thousand angry predators. "Let us attack at half-day tomorrow, Mother, whilst the prey be feeding. Let no rabbit on that hill survive." As the two began to run, May Belle's eyes began to pour tears in her worry.

Then her throat had a strange, warm but irritating, sensation, and she coughed into her hands automatically. Through what little vision she had left, May Belle was alarmed but what she saw: blood coming out from within herself as she coughed, trickling down into her hands.

The surprise and overwhelming knowledge of these two things she had not meant to discover was overwhelming, and in her state of wellness she couldn't seem to handle it. That's why, as she sat by the creek, crying and coughing up more blood, she slipped from consciousness once more and fell into the stream, her mouth and nose becoming flooded.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Does anyone dare disagree that I am very mean when writing this story? Cause I'm pretty sure I am. Anyways, I'm sorry that there was an irritating lack of action and dialogue in this chapter, and I don't know how well it was written out. I guess I'm kinda out of it when writing for May Belle, cause I don't think I've updated for two or three months. Okay, maybe not that long, but it's been a while. Thank you so much for waiting, and, if this chapter is as horribly terribly disgraceful to my name as I expect all of my work is (I'm paranoid, don't blame me), than I'm really sorry. The truth is, I've had writer's block. I mean, I know what the ending's gonna be, but I didn't know how I'm gonna get there, because with my original idea, it made May Belle look really… pitiful, like she had to have the rabbits take care of her and she did nothing in return. Not anymore. I can promise that!

Anyways, if anyone's confused, I'll go over a few things. If you don't understand the foxes, I tried to make it clear that they were the mother and brother of the fox that attacked Fiver and May Belle in the earlier chapter, and the younger one that's talking has a sixth sense as well. And about the blood thing: May Belle was coughing up blood. I've done a lot of research into diseases that can be caused by homelessness, and I kinda liked the thought of May Belle having Tuberculosis (that's murder to spell, by the way.) Also, I'm a freak for Edgar Allan Poe, and that was the disease that had killed off his entire family, wife, and I believe some of his children as well, but I'm not sure. If you read some of my other stories you'd see that alot of them drip with references to Poe...

Okay, so, please tell me what you think of the last chapter. And if you hate the way that I'm taking this story, tell me! All reviews are accepted. I could go on for pages about how great reviews make me feel, but I'm trying to put this up early today so that I can catch the British people who read this before it gets too late over there. So, I'm gonna end it now with this: I am supremely sorry about how long I took to update this, and that the writing here wasn't up to most of the other chapter. I promise that next chapter will be up faster and written better. Even though I ask this of you too much, please bear with me. Ciao!