Blossom watched as Malevant closed in…
‘‘What are you doing out of your house and roaming about so late at night?”
Blossom watched as Malevant closed in, turned to face them, and paused.
‘‘And don’t give me any more lies. Your mummies aren’t waiting anywhere nearby.”
Suddenly Malevant lunged, swiping at Blossom with one paw .
The young rabbits squealed and bolted in all directions.
Blossom had only one thought—he must get to the tunnel and into the garden. But he couldn’t move. He watched Malevant crouch, his tail twitching, then he swiped at him again. Blossom felt faint.
He was going to die.
The yard swam and the pain in his side faded. His ears filled with the sound of his pounding heart, and then it slowed to a steady thump, thump, that grew until it was all he heard and felt. His skin tightened and excruciating pain shot through his little body. He cried out, but his voice sounded odd.
Malevant halted, laid his ears flat on his head and snarled. For one heartbeat, Blossom thought he looked frightened. He watched as Malevant backed up a few steps, snarling and hissing.
His eyes, now wary, were slits of malice.
This was Blossom’s chance! He ran as fast as he could, weaving this way and that. He almost ran into the garden wall. By some miracle he found the open tunnel. It was harder getting through this way and he almost got stuck. At last he squeezed through. There was one faint, distant squeal.
Had the others escaped Malevant?
Had they been caught?
What about the owls?
Blossom was too terrified and too exhausted to move far. He hopped painfully into the garden bed and staying under the bushes, he managed to burrow under a heap of dead leaves before another wave of dizziness hit him and he blacked out.
When he came to, everything was quiet. The leaves dripped with dew onto him. He was wet and shivering with cold and shock. How long had he been away? He didn’t have a clue. he peered out of the bushes. the garden was dark and quiet but he could just see the hutch in the shadow of the plum tree across the garden.
He found it much harder getting back in his window. It was so high and he had no help. After a few leaps he gave up, exhausted. What was he going to do? What if Malevant came back?
Aching all over and shivering still with the cold, Blossom hopped slowly over to the garden, shuffled under the broad leaves of some plant, and curled up at the foot of the plum tree.
On the edge of sleep his eyes suddenly snapped open, and he trembled.
And carried on the wind, the faint answering reply…
Hoo… Woo hoo!