To conclude the adventures of the Watership gang, the animals were greeted by Trill and Warble, who found them lolloping down the dirt path to the Stone Orchards and agreed to take a message back to Holly on Watership Down, to let their friends and family back home be aware of their safety and whereabouts, and to be patient, for they will be journeying homeward tomorrow. After the birds flew off to deliver the message, the group sauntered up to the old cemetery as they glanced cautiously up at the iron fence and the grim atmosphere of the unfamiliar landscape beyond the fence. It grew darker when the clouds blocked out the sun. The wind whistled softly, and the trees creaked at the touch of the breeze. The storm was moving closer by the second. The rabbits were growing uneasy and frightened, but Kehaar soared over the fence to scour the cemetery and search for any signs of elil or diseased creatures, if better to be safe than sorry.

Hannah remained on his back, her eyes caught sight of movement close to a huge magnificent yew tree, standing majestically over the small tombstones in the heart of the cemetery. Shining white tails, flashing like stars when a bolt of lightning exploded in the sky, scurried through an opening under the bottom of the thick trunk. There was no mistaking those fluffy tails. Hannah recognized those creatures to be rabbits. She guided Kehaar back to the outside gate, gesturing her friends that other rabbits lived there, but to venture inside with caution and care.

One at a time, the rabbits squeezed passed the smooth, creaky bars of the fence. This forbidding place was new to them, different from the burial grounds of Newton Church they once took shelter in a long time ago. The group huddled close together, for fear of separation or ambushed by elil.

As the little band journeyed deeper into the heart of the cemetery, Bluebell froze on the spot. A hole, concealed by a clump of thistles, caught his attention. He called out to Hazel, ushering him to come over. Everyone paused, as Hazel and Bigwig found him crouching over the mouth of the hole, staring at it with an uncertain and fearful expression.

"Hazel, if I'm not mistaken, this hole's been recently used and..." the blue buck's voice trembled, "I think we are being observed."

Hazel examined the hole's entrance. Just as Bluebell confirmed, he felt a fresh scrape of claws had been at work and a slight scent of rabbit in the mouth of the hole. It was still fresh in smell, by several minutes ago. Large pawprints lead a trail deep into the darkness of the hole. "You're right. Someone must be in there," he said.

Without hesitation, Bigwig was ready for the prospect of action. "Then let's find out how much trouble this rabbit is worth." He peered his face in the hole and bellowed firmly, "Oi! We know you're in there! Come on out or I'll drag you out by the ears!"

It didn't take long for them to wait, for at this moment, the group found themselves confronted by a heavy and burly doe. She was close to Cowslip's height, the color of her fur was a shade of olive green with dark pine green dipped-ears and marks around her eyes, and her eyes a dark brown hue. Her manner was almost paranoid and hostile, and behind her was another doe. The second doe looked strong and fierce, almost reminding Bigwig of himself, for he recognized the appearance and manner of a fighter when he saw one: heavily-figured and smeared with old scars from many a battle. Her fur was cream colored, not exactly white, and her eyes shone a bright red hue.

"I think it is you who will be dragged out by the ears if you don't tell us who you are and what you're doing here!" The cream-colored doe snarled, baring her teeth like an angry rat. "Or would you rather I sound the alarm, so my Owsla can tear you lot to pieces!"

"Your Owsla?" Bigwig repeated, puzzled.

"Yes. I am Captain Prake of the Thinial Owsla," the cream furred doe introduced herself, still hostile.

Before the doe beside Prake could speak, Fiver began to shudder when that familiar cold chill passed through his body. A vision of the past crossed his mind, a memory of a mysterious secret Vilthuril had once shared with him. He fixated a dazed stare at the burly doe, recognizing her. "Could you possibly be... are you... that is..." he stuttered, "is your name Flyairth?"

Hearing her name spoken from the mouth of this strange runt, the burly doe raised her head in surprise and her eyes grew so wide. Flyairth trembled with sudden fear. Her whole manner changed. "Who are you? How could you know my name?" she demanded.

At this shocking impiety, the Watership rabbits looked at Fiver in bewilderment. Nobody knew how on earth could Fiver know the name of this stranger.

"Have you come from our old warren?" Flyairth asked, breaking the silence.

"Our old warren is called Sandleford," Fiver explained, shaking his head.

"Well, our old warren used to be at Cottington's Hill. It was somewhere sandy on a gentle slope."

Hazel interposed, standing beside his little brother and spoke reasonably, "Let's all settle down without starting a fight. We're not from Cottington's Hill. We're from a warren in Watership Down. My friends and I came here because we're looking for shelter to get out of the oncoming storm. We don't want to quarrel with you, but naturally we're surprised to learn my brother knows about you more than us. He gets visions in his head-"

"They're lying, Flyairth-rah! Have you been to our old warren?!" Prake rudely interrupted, persisting these rabbits answer more questions. "How does your brother know my Chief's name? Are you spies from another warren?!"

"Never mind that now," Fiver spoke in a calm and soothing tone. "We just want you to know that we're not spies. I will answer all your questions about how I know you, and you can correct me if I'm wrong about anything. Okay?"

Flyairth considered this for a moment. She was not sure whether to trust these newcomers, especially if one of them, a runt, knows her name or if any of them were infected by the diseased. Nevertheless, he sounded very convincing and appeared harmless. The rest of the group never showed signs of sickness, all looking quite strong and healthy. The doe noticed one of their members was a young kitten, who shivered and grasped his mother's arm, looking very afraid. Flyairth felt sorry for the little one. Her conscience reprimanded her into grant them permission to allow them shelter in her warren. "Stand down, Prake," she relented.

"But Flyairth-rah..." protested Prake, who sounded disapproving of inviting a bunch of hlessi to their warren.

"Not another word!" Flyairth shushed her. "We will escort them to our warren."

Fuming in silence, a disdainful Prake ordered the group to follow them. Everyone grew relieved to have been given access for shelter. Flyairth even allowed Kehaar and Hannah to join them, though she couldn't help wondering why a gull and a mouse would tag along with a gang of hlessi. They followed the two does' trail across the cemetery, passing in and out between headstones. Prake and Flyairth kept ahead, their eyes and ears alert to make sure no danger was nearby.

The enormous yew tree stood before them, making the Watership rabbits feel very small compared to its gigantic size. It was much bigger than the circle of trees back at their warren, standing on an embankment overlooking the cemetery like a fortress overseeing its realm. Overgrowth plant shrubbery or vines covered the rabbit holes of the embankment, as if attempting to conceal the tunnels from sight. Dozens of does poked out of the tunnels to see what is going on. Some of them began whispering amongst each other, probably wondering why their leader invited a group of vagabonds to their warren.

Flyairth and Prake guided them to the main entrance, where two strong does flanked the open mouth of the tunnel like fierce guards. As they descended in after their guides, Hazel's band noticed how incredibly organized the warren is. Some does were cleaning out empty burrows to get rid of spiderwebs. There was no leftover rotten flayrah abandoned (not like Cowslip's warren) in any burrow. There were even able-bodied rabbits, ranging from adolescent to even the elderly, constantly running about to keep themselves fit under the direction of a couple of Owsla officers, both female, while kittens were dozing peacefully, pressed against their mothers' warm bodies.

Reaching the central chamber of the warren, the apex of the ceiling had roots intertwining and spreading out like a flower blooming at springtime. Multiple does have hopped backwards a bit to give them space, some with their mates (only a small number of bucks lived in the warren) and kittens, when the band of hlessi entered the great burrow, especially the sight of Kehaar made them cautious. The inhabitants were filled with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion when the news spread like wildfire. The Owsla, all does, assembled in line on Prake's orders when their Chief Rabbit passed them by to sit at the very end of the line and sternly facing the outsiders.

"I feel like we'll be prisoners in a matter of seconds." The ever-nervous Bluebell whispered in Blackberry's ear.

"We'll just have to wait and see what Fiver will do," the black-dipped eared doe replied quietly.

Sitting up straight with authority, Flyairth addressed the runt as he stepped forward, "Now, answer our questions. Who are you and how did you know of me?"

"My name is Fiver," he responded with confidence as he introduced the members of his group, "this is my brother, Hazel, the Chief Rabbit of our warren... this is Bigwig, our Captain of Owsla, his mate Lily and their adopted son, Pipkin... and our friends, Blackberry, Dandelion, Hawkbit, Silver, Bluebell, Kehaar and Hannah."

Each of the animals nodded their heads politely when Fiver said their names.

"As to your second question of how I know your name, it may sound unbelievable, but by Frith, every word I speak is the truth." Fiver began, though he turned to his elder brother. "Hazel, don't get upset, but has Hyzenthlay ever told you about the underground river in Efrafa?"

"The what?" replied Hazel, startled by this revelation.

"The underground river in Efrafa."

"No, she certainly hasn't." A baffled Hazel shared a glance with the only known members of his band whom ventured in Efrafa and made it out alive. "Lily, Bigwig, have either of you or anyone else who has been in Efrafa ever heard of this underground river? Are Holly, Aubretia or Clover aware of this as well?"

"No, and I'll be snared if I have," answered Bigwig, then he stole a tiny hint of irritation at Fiver. "I'd certainly need a season's worth of convincing that there is one at all."

"I don't exactly recall seeing an underground river during my short time there," added Bluebell.

"Neither did I," mentioned Pipkin.

"I'm afraid I've never seen or heard of one," said Blackberry.

Lily pondered this over for second, then her eyes lit up. "Come to think of it, I remember overhearing Hyzenthlay telling Thethuthinnang about a…a secret river. None of the does wanted me nor Clover to know about it. My theory is they didn't trust us back then. Probably convinced one of us is a spy." She couldn't blame them, though. After all they've been through, it was hard to trust someone you barely know with a secret. "Pray continue, Fiver."

There was a pause, as though Fiver was collecting himself to begin what he recalled. "Vilthuril told me everything about it. One night, whilst Vilthuril was asleep in her burrow, a burrow that is the furthest away from the tunnel leading up and out for silflay, she began to sense something odd. A draft was coming through the burrow wall. It wasn't warm nor cold. But something was on the other side of wall. The sound of water flowing. Vilthuril pressed her head up against the wall to listen, when the wall gave way and collapsed. She fell through, finding herself in an abandoned tunnel that had not been used for a long time, covered in webs. Vilthuril followed the trail, where she found herself in an underground chamber below the second chimney stack. It had not been used for a long time, no one knows why. Far below in the pit was the secret river. It wasn't spreading out into a pool and flooding the pit, but flowing down through an opening in the walls in a channel of its own. It was slow, but quiet and steady."

By this time, many of the tenants in the great burrow had grown interested in Fiver's story. The kittens started whispered, only to be shushed by their parents.

"Vilthuril approached the ledge and stared directly face down at the water's surface," Fiver added, "giving herself entirely up to it, letting it take possession of her. Eventually, she came to grasp that what was coming to her was a flow of knowledge: knowledge that neither she nor the Efrafans had anything involved in it. And no, Bigwig, it wasn't her imagination playing tricks on her, nor was she seeing a vision in her head like I do."

"How did you even know I was going to say that?" asked Bigwig, who readied himself to interrupt with a scoff of disbelief.

"Shh! I want to listen!" Dandelion silenced him, keenly captivated.

"This was knowledge from outside Efrafa that she was receiving," continued Fiver, "it was trying to convey something to Vilthuril. Sure enough, an image came quite clearly in the river's surface - two female rabbits alone together, who planned to leave their own warren in order to start a new one: a warren in which the does would dominate and ruled by does, and their names were Flyairth and Prake." The two does in present gaped at the runt, but neither one said a word.

"Vilthuril deduced you were both strong and confident about what you meant to do that could persuade other rabbits to join you. All because you've been undermined and overlooked by the bucks in your old warren at Cottington's Hill, especially when you discovered some of the rabbits in the warren gradually became infected by the White Blindness. Your Chief Rabbit refused to listen to your warnings, so you needed to persuade those whom are in danger or discontent in your old warren to join you. Vilthuril realized she must've stayed a long time in the underground chamber because when she finally came to, she had been found by Primrose, who had been looking for her."

"She escorted her back to her burrow, where the two buried the secret tunnel to conceal it from the guards. Vilthuril told her what she discovered during silflay and wanted to tell their friends, but Primrose warned her it was dangerous to talk to anyone, figuring a spy might discover her special find and report to the Council or the Owsla. They grew frightened of what might happen if the officers found out, because the Council would surely want to stop anyone else from discovering the river, or else they'd say the does made it all up."

"Did Nettle find out?" questioned Pipkin. "I mean, she was the spy in Efrafa."

"I'll get to that soon," replied Fiver. "Anyway, Vilthuril took Primrose and Hyzenthlay, whom they told but she disbelieved it at first, to the secret river. More knowledge came to all three of them. Flyairth and Prake had succeeded in persuading many rabbits to leave their warren and journey to the Stone Orchards to escape the disease. However, their Chief Rabbit and the Owsla ambushed them and captured half of the group, viciously accusing Flyairth and Prake for inciting mutiny and tried to place them under arrest."

"That's almost similar to what happened to us," Silver whispered in Hazel's ear, as he nodded.

"Flyairth and Prake convinced their group to rebel and fight against the Owsla, barely managing to get away with their lives. Not long after, the rabbits in Cottington's Hill succumbed to the Blindness and perished. Despite a long and dangerous journey, they established their warren in the Stone Orchards - Thinial, as they called it. The bucks are content under the rule of does. After all, it was Flyairth's leadership and Prake's courage that brought them here." Fiver's words made Flyairth smile proudly, and Prake just shrugged like it was no big deal. "Their Owsla of does was trained well, with only the cleverest rabbits to be found and none with any intent to abuse their authority."

"My kind of Owsla." Bigwig quietly smirked in amazement.

"Several of the does bore litters of their own with bucks whom they chose, or were rather fond of, and mated with them. Flyairth had a litter of three with a buck called Spindle. Meanwhile, Vilthuril and her friends received nothing else for a long time, unaware that Thinial was flourishing in prosperity. But Hyzenthlay feared that somehow or other, General Woundwort would find out. One night, Vilthuril couldn't sleep when she found herself caught up in a violent mist of confusion and turmoil. She had a terrible vision of what she will learn in the river's knowledge, the White Blindness."

Mentioning this infamous disease caused many rabbits in the great hall to mumble in quiet terror. Kittens scrambled underneath their mothers' legs. Flyairth's body posture twitched uncomfortably, but she never breathed a word. Prake's posture stiffened, her eyes fixed a hard look at the runt.

Nevertheless, Fiver kept on with his mate's tale. "It was around the time Thethuthinnang got involved in their secret meeting with the underground river, in order to understand what the meaning of my vision meant. They first assumed the Blindness was coming down the river to infect them, but the mere knowledge of it dominated everything else and turning it into incomprehensible turbulence was frightening enough for Vilthuril and her three companions. Flyairth was exploring outside her warren when she had come upon a hlessi, lurching about and infected by the Blindness. Horrified, she kept away from him. He was approaching Thinial on his own accord. At the last moment, Flyairth ordered her Owsla to drive him out. She told Prake and her Owsla of her fear, and they agreed that everything possible must be done to keep diseased rabbits out of the warren, whether they have the Blindness or not-"

"STOP!" Flyairth bellowed, her sharp voice reverberated in the great hall as everyone instantly turned their attention to her.

"But I'm not done yet-" Fiver protested.

"I think you've said enough." Prake scowled.

"No, it's alright," interrupted Flyairth, before she took a deep breath and exhaled softly. "Every word you speak is the truth, Fiver. I can tell you more, so you can say nothing else... my mate, Spindle, died at the claws of an owl. But I raised my children well, though I couldn't have done it without Prake's support. Ever since we left our home warren, we wanted to prevent the tragedy that our old home endured. Why, we even made our own inside garden, for herbs and roots for my people. Our desire is to learn how to use healing plants to treat any illness, so that we can improve our health, such as using a set of rules for our benefit, from what foods we can eat to how to prevent disease from occurring and so forth. It is for these reasons and more than, as well as their Chief Rabbit, I am known to all here as the 'Matron Healer of Thinial'."

"That's remarkable!" Blackberry praised, impressed with this doe's knowledge of healing rabbits. "I'm a bit of a novice healer myself. Perhaps you could show me this garden of yours? I'd love to see about starting something like that in our warren. With all the scrapes some of our bucks get into, a herb garden in our own warren would be most helpful."

"Oh, really?" This sparked Flyairth's interest as she gave a little smile at the doe, looking at the inquisitive doe as a potential protégé. "Then it would be my pleasure to show you our works. Perhaps even, during your stay here… I could teach you a few tricks of our trade, one healer to another."

"Err, Fiver..." Pipkin inquired, "what of Nettle? Did she ever inform Orchis of the secret river?"

"I'm afraid so," Fiver hesitated, looking grim. "News of this underground river with incredible knowledge traveled fast amongst the does. Unfortunately, Nettle was picked to be Orchis' spy around the time, so she told him all about Flyairth and the river. The Efrafans determined the does remain clueless about the outside world. If the story of this secret river made them wiser, it could pose as a threat for General Woundwort if the does rebelled. He made plans to use the river's knowledge for himself, ordering his Owsla to relocate the does in burrows much farther away from the river, along with a cruel punishment. And guess what? The Owsla had never found the underground river. Even though the tunnel is located within Vilthuril's burrow, my clever mate sealed it up perfectly to make the digging so impossible to get in. Woundwort grew convinced that Nettle deliberately lied to waste the Owsla's time. The secret river was safe, but the cruel punishment Nettle was forced to endure alone was..." he gulped, "being beaten and raped by Orchis."

A chorus of horrified gasps erupted within the great hall.

"Nettle was forced to make up an excuse so not to raise suspicion for Hyzenthlay and the does. Vilthuril confined in me on one more thing - she was the only doe who knew Nettle was a spy and witnessed the punishment herself through the secret river."

"Awful..." Prake mumbled in dread.

"Hold on!" A suspicious Bigwig cut in, raising his paw as he glared at Flyairth. "If you drive out strangers whether they have the Blindness or not, why did you grant us entry?"

"It was your friend, Fiver, and his visions that convinced me." As Flyairth spoke, she nodded approvingly at the runt. "We have never met a true Mystic before in our lives. Those with the Farsight of Frith are very rare in our ancient history."

Bigwig cast a bitter scowl in silence, his anger rising at all this information that Fiver had been sharing in secret with Vilthuril when those two seers could have told them. Fiver grew aware of this, especially the scorning frowns his friends gazed at him, except Lily and Pipkin. Even the gentle Blackberry now felt disappointed.

"Why didn't you or Vilthuril tell us about all this?" Bigwig questioned, sounding upset.

"You wouldn't have believed either of us," Fiver explained, desperately. "And neither would Hyzenthlay or the does if Vilthuril told them Nettle was the one who betrayed their plans to escape... especially when Orchis plotted to frame Vilthuril as a spy if she did try to expose Nettle."

To prevent what came close to becoming an argument of drama, Flyairth stood tall with authority and raised his paw in the air. "QUIET!" she yelled uncharacteristically. For a moment, one would mistake her anger to be that of Woundwort's, before she regained her composure and cleared her throat, putting on her motherly disposition. "It is understandable that there is some tension, given how far you are from your own warren. And, given that your intentions are peaceful and that you have a kit with you, it is my duty to welcome you to Thinial and allow you to stay here as much as you need to before carrying on." She then turned to Prake. "Would you kindly escort these rabbits to some spare burrows we have? I am certain they could use the rest for tonight."

To that, Prake widened her eyes before looking to her Chief Rabbit. Before she could retort, Flyairth shot her a hard look, like a strict mother would to a disobedient child. One that seemed to immediately supplant any anger she bore with reluctant obedience. "…As you wish, my Matron."

"Very good." The Chief doe then turned back to Hazel and his band. "If you or yours have any questions or concerns, address them to me, or my offspring, or to Prake and we will do what we can to satisfy your inquiries."

"Thank you, Flyairth," Hazel replied as the submissive Captain of Owsla led him and his friends out of the gathering place, before the other rabbits of Thinial disperse, resuming their scheduled routines and leaving Flyairth alone with her thoughts.

"This is an interesting turn, isn't it? Once, my former Chief would have thought nothing to keep our warren alive if it meant a threat to his position as leader. But he had to pay the price for it with his life…along with the others who dared ignored my warnings. But this Hazel, these rabbits…I can tell these are rabbits who will not ignore my wisdom and experience. If I could give them my guidance to take back with them to their warren, it will be enough so that we may continue to go on, like our ancestors intended: living wild and free…and far away from our true enemy. The true source of all death and disease in the world…" As she spoke, her voice was mellifluous before slowly becoming impassioned with ambition as her purple eyes sharpened with a hatred in her eyes. "…Man."