The primroses were over. The May sunset was red in clouds, and there was still half an hour to twilight. At the top of a bank, close to the wild cherry where the blackbird sang, was a little group of rabbit holes almost hidden by brambles.
Two rabbits, a black-furred one named Stan and a ginger colored one called Kyle popped out from one of these holes and started scurrying down the slope. They were "silflaying" – that is, looking for food.
It was not long before they came upon a cowslip that had not yet bloomed. Its flat spread of leaves was almost hidden under the long grass.
"Oooooh!" said Stan. "A cowslip! We don't see many of those this time of year!"
"We better eat it quick, before some other rabbit tries to take it from us!" Kyle agreed.
As soon as he said that, a shadow loomed over them. Kyle turned around to see two larger rabbits standing behind them. Their names were Bill Allen and Fosse McDonald.
"Cowslip?" said Bill. "All right, just leave it to us. Come on, hand it over."
"Aw-awww!" Stan groaned. "Come on, guys, we found this first!"
"And we'll eat it," replied Fosse. "Cowslips are for Owsla- don't you know that?" The Owsla were the group of rabbits who exercised the Chief Rabbit's authority. "If you don't, we can easily teach you." He smacked his paws together threateningly.
Reluctantly, Stan and Kyle turned and headed away.
"Dude, this is pretty fucked up right here," said Stan.
"Yeah, all those Owsla guys are the same," agreed Kyle. "'These are my claws, so this is my cowslip.' 'These are my teeth, so this is my burrow.'"
"I'll tell ya what, if I ever become an Oswla, I'll treat other rabbits with a little bit of decency," Stan said.
Just then a yellow rabbit named Butters dashed up to them. "Hey Butters, what are you so hectic about?" Kyle asked.
Butters was crying, and trembling all over. "Somethin' bad's gonna happen, fellas," he whimpered. "I feel it in my fur."
"Is it worse than having your food taken off you by a bigger rabbit?" Stan asked. "'Cause that already happened to us."
Butters shook his head. "I had a terrible dream last night. I saw this field we're standin' in now covered with blood! There's danger comin'- gettin' closer an' closer. We're all gonna die if we stay here!"
"What do you mean?" asked Kyle. "Is a fox gonna come and kill us or something?"
"No, it's worse'n that," said Butters. "Come an' look at this sign I found!"
Stan looked at Kyle. "We better check it out, just in case."
Butters led them to the edge of the field, where a sign had been planted in the ground. It said:
THIS IDEALLY SITUATED ESTATE, COMPRISING SIX ACRES OF EXCELLENT BUILDING LAND, IS TO BE DEVELOPED WITH HIGH CLASS MODERN RESIDENCES BY SUTCH AND MARTIN, LIMITED, OF NEWBURY, BERKS.
Stan was nonplussed. "What does that mean?"
Kyle knew. "It means some humans are gonna tear up our warren so they can build a new subdivision here. They'll come in with machines and plow everything up. I've heard about that happening to other rabbits before."
Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tight, a thing he routinely did when frustrated or exasperated. "Dammit! Humans are assholes! How'd they like it if some animals bulldozed a suburb and put in new trees or something?"
"Y'see, fellas?" Butters said. "We've all gotta get outta here before it's too late! Got to leave this warren an' go someplace else!"
"The other rabbits won't like that idea," Kyle warned.
Stan sighed heavily. "Well, let's go have a talk with the chief rabbit."