Binky's death

Characters belong to Rowling and Richard Adams.

The moon shone. It was the time of Inlé

The air was crisp.

Binky sat bolt upright, listening to the night.

There were sounds of soft paws. There were smells

Binky trembled in his cage.

Hombil.

In his uncomplicated rabbit brain, Binky rarely thought about things being any different than they were. But now did he wish with all he was worth that he was inside, in the warm, large burrow of the golden-furred Lav-rah-roo who used to stroke him so tenderly, not left over the night in his cage, that he did not smell the stealthy-pawed, sharp-fanged hombil sneak closer. But he knew in his heart that things wouldn't be any different.

And towards him came - Binky froze in tharn - a rabbit, but not a rabbit he had ever seen before. Not one of his fellow domesticated pets, living in cages and being fed lettuce and dandelion leaves. No, this was the wild rabbit. The one that burrowed in hillsides untouched by men, the one that defied his thousand enemies, the one that roamed proud under the burning face of Frith. It was the rabbit of legends, the El-ahrairah his mother had told him about. Binky felt hope well up in him - because surely El-ahrairah could save him from the hombil.

But the rabbit that came for him was black. Black as the night. Black as Inlé . His eyes burnt like Frith himself, and the net of the cage melted away like snow for him. Binky retreated as far back as he could, huddling in terror.

"Do you recognize me?" the Black Rabbit said to Binky in a voice that wasn't unfriendly, but that was final. And Binky realized that he did.

"Yes, lord," he answered obediently, and bent his head in accaptance.

Trelawny sighed and put her cup away, not wishing to see any more. Pity. She had tried to break it nicely to the girl, but these things were always so upsetting. She liked Miss Brown - it was a clever girl with her heart at the right place, and perhaps a tiny spark of a seer in her as well. At least, she paid attention, which was nice. Absentmindedly the teacher took a swig from the sherry bottle. She wasn't really in the mood for tea anymore.

Back in the cage, the fox struck its prey, but Binky wasn't there anymore. He followed Frith's Black Rabbit over the fields, towards a hill and a burrow far, far away that he had never seen before, but had known had been there, for all his life.