The Rabbit Burrows

Here's a tale. Beneath the delicate surface of the bellowing green grass of the country, upon the side of a stout, English hill, there had once been a nest home to a collective of rabbits. Such a close, caring commune where all were upon the vigil for all others, looking out for those who nursed, those who led, those who gathered, those who played, steadfastly youthful in this sole burrow away from foreign ground. These young rabbits had known this and only this burrow, this burrow where they were raised, fed, and nurtured amongst themselves. As time had passed, so did their immaturity; full fledged rabbits, but maturity demanded more than the physical. A horrid storm decimated the complex tunnels of the burrow and the rabbits were shoved into the forefront of adulthood. They had to find a new settlement where they may survive. They were individuals, each with their own personal ideologies, dreams, and goals, and like all good individuals, they each sought their own individual paths. In going their own ways, they each met their fates. One was a fighter, who would never wither from a conflict, as though he had something to prove. He died as he lived. Attempting to fend off a bird of prey, he was mortally wounded from a gash to his side, dying silently in the claws of the predator. Another was a leader. He took two others as they formed their party in search of a home. A leader never is proven as one until they reach that which defines a leader, the altruism for utilitarian, valuing the group as greater than the individual. Upon seeing a group member struggle to flee from a farmer, a broken impedded her, he sprinted toward the farmer, successfully distracting him. Though she had finally fled, he was now exhausted and the farmer easily ridded of him. Each met different fates, some encountered death, and others despair. Some encountered that curious room where all things that vanish seem to appear while others found the warmth of a mate in a new home they could join. Of all these individuals, only one saw his frontier, only one saw the home he vowed to make, only one was left to truly ponder. He created this new burrow, his own two paws. It was eventually populated as neighboring burrows united with his, soon developing into that complex he had been so used to, but it was just a burrow as in his youth. Everyday upon building his burrows, everyday upon uniting burrows, everyday upon living in his creation, he wondered what had become of those once so close to him. Those young rabbits he had been so attached to were nowhere near him. Where were they now? What were they now? How were they now? The goal was to make themselves a new home, but is it possible any of them achieved their own? Did any of them achieve their place of content and comfort? A little place called home. 


*There is a reason why I chose the title aside from the literal story (think of how burrows have tunnels, each leading down separate paths, but all are still a part of this home)