Part Seven - Mara

"See how my enemies have increased and how fiercely they hate me!" Psalm 25:19, NIV

Mara was born to the vixen Fera and her mate Pratt two years prior to Mr. Castles' assault on Grotto. She was the only vixen in her litter - it was Fera and Pratt's third - and she had three brothers: Pesco, Jerin, and Hyde. While the cubs were nursing, no one could tell that she would be different. That didn't become obvious until her parents began bringing her and her brothers meat - especially rabbits. Mara would have nothing to do with this, preferring instead to feed only on berries and insects, whereas these normally just supplement the diet of a fox. She tried to catch fish, although she was still too young to succeed with the exception of the odd one that was already weak from sickness or injury. At first, her parents and siblings thought of this as a minor "phase", but over time, it became a much greater concern.

"That vixen is really getting on my nerves with her haughtiness," grumbled Pratt, "She doesn't in the least appreciate everything that we do for her, Fera.". The father was especially insulted since he was the one that did most of the hunting.

"Perhaps it's just an early rebellious thing with her," replied Fera, still defending her daughter, "She doesn't mean to hurt anyone. She just wants to take care of herself."

"Well she can't take care of herself, eating like that!" snapped Pratt, "She'll be skin and bones!" The truth was, although she was smaller than her brothers, Mara was not much thinner than the average vixen cub her age. Pratt stormed on, "And I won't have her treating her own young to a life like that! She's going to learn to live like a fox and like it, no questions!"

"Dear, you can't force one to like things against their will. Just be patient. She will change with time by her own will."

"Well, she'd better change, or I swear, I'll..."

Fera shot her mate a glare that told Pratt that the topic was over.

***

As summer wore on, Pratt became increasingly flustered with his daughter, so much so that he began to enlist his three sons to help Mara "see the error of her ways". The father instructed Pesco, Jerin, and Hyde to make Mara's life miserable as they saw fit, and gave them ideas on how to go about it. The three were already quite impatient with their sister's eccentricity, and were glad to oblige.

On one occasion, the three brothers caught and killed a young rabbit on their own. After eating most of the unfortunate rabbit, they carried its bloodied head and placed it right by the muzzle of their sleeping sister, positioning it so that its dead eyes were staring directly at her. When Mara eventually awoke, she yelped in terror and ran in tears from the family den. When Fera found out about this prank, she cornered her mate and three sons and began to scold them sharply about their cruelty.

"Just leave poor Mara alone! If I ever hear of you doing something like this again, I'll give you all a mauling you'll never forget!" Her voice softened only a little as she added, "Look, I don't agree with her views on diet either, and I'd dearly love to see her hunting with the rest of you. But, please, give her time to make up her own mind. You'll only make her even less likely to see our way by doing stupid things like this. You may say you're trying to help, but I think you're just enjoying being cruel. If you really want to help, leave her alone!"

Jerin looked down and mumbled, "Sorry, mother. Maybe she'll be fine with fish. She's getting better at catching them."

"Fish!" spat Pratt, "That's not healthy! She needs to hunt like us!"

Fera jumped on Jerin's earlier comment, "That's the spirit, Jerin. You must be supportive, not destructive." She then gave a cold stare to Pratt, who instantly looked away. She continued, "Now, this is settled. Agreed?"

Her sons unanimously agreed, while Pratt snorted, but finally sighed, "Fine."

While Pratt stayed in the den brooding, Pesco, Jerin, and Hyde went looking for Mara and found her weeping by a nearby stream. Hyde was the one who spoke first, offering, "Mara, that was uncalled for on our part. We're sorry, and we promise - it will never happen again." Mara simply looked away.

Jerin went next, "Mother set us straight, believe me. You're fine with us just the way you are. You can stick to fishing if you want to. Please come back to the den; Mother's worried." He made a note to not mention how their father felt.

Mara, still looking away, replied to this, "But you'll still hunt my friends. Why should I come back?" Her brothers looked at each other. Friends? they thought simultaneously.

Pesco, incredulous, asked, "You've got friends among rabbits?"

Mara sighed, "Well, no, obviously they want nothing to do with me." However, she had spent enough time hiding within earshot of rabbits to pick up their unique language far sooner than most foxes would have cared to.

Pesco wanted badly to tell her not to worry about it; that she would one day be hunting them like a normal fox, but remembered his mother's words and said, "It's all right, Mara. I say to each their own. Please come back. You're too young to leave just yet."

"Who are you kidding? I've practically been on my own since I started feeding myself."

Jerin jumped back into the conversation. "Mara, of course you can feed yourself just fine. So can we. But who will protect you? Where will you find a den? Please! Come with us."

Seeing reason in Jerin's logic, Mara turned to look at them, then looked down at the ground. "Just promise you'll never do anything like that again," she whispered.

***

It was now early autumn, and Pesco and Hyde were returning to a nearby farm where they had managed to easily corner some of the multitude of mice near a row of granaries over the summer. It seemed an innocent enough venture. However, unbeknownst to the foxes, the farmer was now trying to rid himself of the mice.

When they arrived at the granary row, they noticed the unscathed bodies of a number of mice lying on the ground. Without thinking twice, they gulped down the easy snacks, but were unable to find any living mice at all in the area - only a few more dead ones. Having had their fill anyway, they decided to head back to their den.

Within an hour of returning, after mentioning their easy meal to the rest of their family, Pesco and Hyde both became unusually tired. Thinking that they had just had a long journey, Fera suggested that they get some rest. They had no trouble at all falling asleep. However, when Fera checked on them an hour later, she yelped in shock. Both were not breathing.

Pratt, hearing his mate's distress, immediately went over to see for himself. Putting his ear to their chests, the father noticed two other things: Pesco and Hyde had no pulse, and they were already cold. As the realization dawned on the family, they could only sit in open-mouthed shock, before the grief could set in.

***

The deaths of Pesco and Hyde embittered Mara's family greatly. Pratt's anger towards Mara was not healed in grief - rather, it grew worse. It was as if with the loss of two of his proud hunters, he became determined that both of his surviving cubs would make up for them. Mara's mother stopped defending her, perhaps too wrapped up in her own sorrow, or perhaps because she was having the same feelings that Pratt was. Mara's surviving brother Jerin could sense his father's increased expectations and tried to live up to them, going out on every hunting expedition that his father went on - sometimes five in one day. Mara would try to stay out of it, but the atmosphere became too intolerable. After waking from a restless sleep one night, she decided to leave her family for good.

"Going somewhere?" Her father was blocking her exit from the den.

"I'm going out to hunt, father. Ever since Pesco and Hyde died, I've been feeling more miserable about how I am. I think it's time to change."

Pratt didn't buy into this, and called her bluff, saying, "Well, that's wonderful, Mara. Shall I accompany you and give you some advice?"

"No, father, I need to do this myself. I'll bring everyone some breakfast by morning."

Pratt smirked, "Fish?"

"No, I'm going to find a rabbit."

"And actually kill it, dear?" Pratt's tone was thickly condescending.

"You'll see. Now, if you'll let me leave, I'd like to get started."

Pratt stepped to the side, watching with narrowed eyes as Mara walked into the moonlit night.

***

After leaving her family's den for the last time and wandering for an hour, Mara became aware of occasional squeals in the distance. It was obviously an animal in distress. She dismissed the possibility of it being the unfortunate next meal of an unknown predator, as if that were the case, there would eventually have been silence. The squeals continued, and as she used them to get closer to the source, she also heard desperate scratching noises. Finally, she saw a wooden shack, one of several outbuildings of a farm, and it was from this which the distressed sounds emanated. She could now clearly tell that it was a rabbit that was inside the shack causing the commotion.

Mara wondered if any other animals might have heard the noises and might be nearby. She saw no signs of other foxes or predators, and thought that perhaps the proximity to humans would be a deterrence to them. She felt an instinctive dread and keen wariness herself, but her curiosity and concern for the rabbit overruled her fear. Fortunately, there seemed to be no human activity, anyway - no lights, no voices, and no barking dogs. That wasn't entirely unusual, as sunrise was still a long way off. As Mara neared the shack, she realized that there was no obvious way in. She went around the base, and saw that the shack was raised up on two beams, so that a small enough animal could get under the building on either end. There was perhaps six inches of clearance, which was enough for Mara to crawl under.

In the dim light, she could see the hind end of a rabbit hanging from a narrow opening in the floorboards. Only the head and front legs of the rabbit were above the floor. Its back legs lay twisted on the ground, and the dirt around them had been scratched away, leaving a small crater underneath. Blood from splinters along the edge of the opening in the floor matted its fur. Obviously, the rabbit had tried to get into the shack for some reason, then had become wedged into the hole, unable to go forwards or backwards.

As Mara inched forward, she heard the petrified rabbit speaking. "Fritillary!" he cried, "There's a homba! I can smell it! It's right by me!" He began kicking in vain again, sending dirt into Mara's face. The rabbit cried in pain and ceased struggling.

His mate replied, "Oh, Currant, I told you to not make so much noise!" Fritillary's voice was heavy with fear and grief. She nuzzled him, but he did not respond, as he was going tharn. "Oh, why did I ever want to get into this place," she sobbed, "This is all my fault..."

Mara saw that the crack extended some way out from either side of the unfortunate buck, and she found that there was enough room to fit her narrow muzzle part-way through. She managed to get a grip on the edge of a board and started gnawing. After several minutes of chewing away the wood and getting painful splinters in her mouth, she had managed to widen the crack in one area right next to the trapped rabbit by about an inch. "All right, now try moving towards me. You should be able to squeeze through here." There was silence. Impatiently, Mara moved to the other side of Currant and began pushing him towards the wider gap. The buck still did not try to move, so Mara moved away and waited.

Finally, Currant regained enough sense to realize that he was still alive, and that the floorboards were no longer as constricting. He scrambled up easily into the shack. Mara couldn't tell if Currant's mate, who had watched in horror as Mara had chewed up the floorboards, was more confused or overjoyed.

"Currant! Currant! How...?" Fritillary broke down into sobs.

Currant slowly regained his senses. "The homba... Why...?" he whispered. He had once heard the same story that Swather had earlier told the Cloudtree rabbits. "Fritillary... the promised friends..."

Fritillary's eyes grew wide. "Do you think that homba is a friend?" she whispered back.

"Why did it do what it did just now?" asked Currant in a normal tone.

During this, Mara was still waiting below the shed's floorboards. She was unfamiliar with lapine stories, and wouldn't have fathomed what they were talking about, even if she had heard the rabbits' whispering. But she did hear Currant's question. "I did it because I see you as friends, not prey. I don't know why, it's just the way I feel. And believe you me, you're very lucky because I must be the only one."

At these words, the rabbits knew. However, still somewhat nervous given their powerful danger instinct, they peered through the floor. "Thank you, friend." said Currant.

"Glad to help. I guess I'll be going now."

"No, wait!" Both rabbits then squeezed through the floorboards and followed Mara out from under the shed. "Don't leave! Who are you? Are you a promised friend?" cried Currant.

Just then, a dark form rushed from around the corner and grabbed Currant by the neck. "Hello, Mara. Nice to see you've invited your friends to our breakfast. You were bringing them home, weren't you?" Her father's eyes flashed anger and mockery as he dropped Currant and pinned him under his claws. Mara gaped in horror and Fritillary squealed as she dove back under the shed. Currant's mouth opened and closed, and he emitted a rasping noise as he struggled for breath, his throat punctured.

"Father..." Mara began, backing away.

"I knew you would never change! Friends, indeed! You want to see what rabbits are meant for?" Pratt quickly delivered a crushing bite to Currant's head.

Mara was sickened by the crunch, and turned and fled once more. Her father's voice followed her loudly, "You'll never make it, Mara! You're as good as dead! Good riddance!" And then, the parting shot, delivered with a laugh, "And thanks for breakfast, ha! ha!"

Mara's tears burned in her eyes as she ran on.

***

After she had travelled for some distance and was satisfied that her father was not tracking her again, Mara found a dense hedgerow and settled in for a few hours of much-needed sleep. She didn't know whether the stress of the night's events would keep her awake or not, however she did manage to fall asleep quickly enough. Her sleep was rather fitful, though, fraught with nightmares of her parents and three brothers killing rabbits which she was trying in vain to save. She was not surprised in her dreams to see that even her two deceased brothers were present. She saw Currant in her father's jaws, staring at her in horror and accusation, silently mouthing the words, "You've betrayed us," until he was torn to pieces.

When she awoke again after sunrise, she had to shake a strong unsettled feeling out of her, but a strong sense of guilt remained. Mara decided to make her way back to the shed where Fritillary had been, hoping against hope that she was still there, so at least she could explain everything to the undoubtedly bereaved doe. She feared that her father would have managed to break in and kill her, too. Then, Fritillary would no doubt have died thinking that Mara was no more than a treacherous liar. It was bad enough that Currant may have thought that, but she had to at least try to explain to the widowed doe.

As Mara neared the farm again, she warily watched the farmhands walking about, keeping close to the ground and advancing a few steps only when she was not in any man's line of sight. After a few minutes, she was at the base of the shed. Ruefully noting Currant's blood on the ground, she crawled silently under the floorboards, listening and sniffing to sense if Fritillary was indeed there.

With a sigh of relief, she saw that her father had not tried to break in. The floorboards were still as she had left them - the crack with the gnawed- down portion had no sign of further wear. So, Fritillary would be safe - if she had indeed stayed inside the shed until after Mara's father had left. However, it was obvious that the rabbit was not in the shed anymore. Mara slipped back out from under the shed, and this time was noticed by one of the farmhands, who promptly shouted to one of his workmates and pointed.

"There! That fox is back!"

"What fox?"

"The one that had a rabbit trapped in the tool shed last night. Mr. Elliot said it made such a ruckus trying to get into the door, scratching and snarling and the like, that it woke up Judy, and her barking woke up EVERYBODY."

"Oh yeah, he was mentioning something about a rude awakening. What'd he do?"

"Said he scared it off and decided to keep the rabbit as a pet for his kids."

"Aw, sweet. Wasn't hurt much, was it?"

"Nah, that fox didn't manage to get into the shed, so not a scratch. Just scared so stiff that Mr. Elliot was able to pick it right up. He saw a dead one out here, though. Probably its mate. He said he buried it by the garden."

"Well, looks like that fox just took off again. Probably won't be back this time."

"Hope not. But we'd better keep them hens locked up in the barn real good for a week just in case. Haven't seen many foxes around since I've been working here, and prefer to keep it that way.."

"I wonder if it knows about the hens, even? Maybe it was just after the rabbit in the shed."

"Probably, but nevertheless..."

"Right."

************