The Rabbit and The Wolf



One Fall evening, in a valley by the sea, there lived a young rabbit. He was white and plump and as handsome a rabbit could be. Every morning, the rabbit would stretch out of his burrow, and he would hop down to the garden where he would eat and bask until the sun would slip back under the horizon. Little did the rabbit know, the days were growing shorter and colder, much less did he know the other animals were growing hungrier, or that the land was growing needier and thirstier.

               Not until a black wolf crawled out of the shadows.

“Step back, O cruel and evil beast!” The rabbit said to the wolf. “You set out to drink my blood without any notion or care! You should be ashamed to even look at me!”

The wolf became still and narrowed her eyes at the little white rabbit. She growled, baring her pointed white teeth.

 “I am quite aware of my actions. Every single drop of blood I spill,” she spoke with clarity. The rabbit hoisted himself onto his haunches and stared into the eyes of the wolf.

“Then why is it you carry on? You are ignorant not to eat grass!”

“Eating grass is no job of wolves. We must kill and spread blood across the soil. You are thoughtless of the life that such blood brings. Plants grow from it, and from blood, these plants you are living and becoming fat are sprouting from.” The wolf bared her teeth once again. “And now that I have you, it is your duty as it is mine. New life will be brought forth by you.” The wolf bowed to the rabbit. “I humbly plead you to come to me and fulfill your duty to the land.”

         The rabbit glared at her with hate.

“A she-demon!” The rabbit hissed. “I will not be swayed or besmirched!”

“If you only see me as a burden, a monster, for you, that is what I will become. Will you not help me bring more soil, more worms, and more birds into this world? Is that duty insignificant to you little rabbit?” The wolf lamented. She stood erect, heckles bristling out in sharp bursts.

“Your silver tongue does not touch the free of heart!” The Rabbit yelled. “You and your savage kin could never strip me of my birthright! I will pass my days in the sun for all of time! I can outrun all your brothers and sisters! Alpha or Omega!”

         “The kingdom has gifted you with the biggest, best, ears in the land young rabbit; have you been unaware that their purpose is to hear?”

 “You spit on me!” the rabbit exclaimed. “I hear what you do not. Freedom is only for the boldest of all. Not those who call themselves servants. My life will be long and full of riches and pleasures.”

“All riches, all grass, all creatures, cannot be created without first being paid for. When one thoughtlessly taps into pleasure, it is then they become a slave. You are in debt just as I and the wasps, and the daffodils. For life to be obtained, there must be a sacrifice. Bare your blood and life will ripple like a cascade from you until the earth dissolves as snow does.”

“How do I know you don’t want thine flesh selfishly? A great thousand riches of the earth I have yet to experience. What gives you, reaper, the right to leash me?”

“It is not I who wishes to kill rabbits, yet it is I who slay. Wolves are caretakers the land; our teeth do what thine is created for. Same as thee, and to ignore your duty tears scars worse than that in rabbit fur. It is not I who restrains. Hear young rabbit, you are no more sacred than the beetles and rocks of the earth, nor the dust drifting in the sea of the night sky. This is not a burden, but a freedom. When you find within yourself that you are equal to all in the world you were born to, your chains are gone; you fold into all of creation like a bead in a tapestry. When the light comes from you, you are given a lantern, and you shine a light on all from the heavens.”

         “I doubt dogma such as yours and wolfkind.” The Rabbit replied, “Pretentious your dignity is. Have nothing of individuality, O wolf? Do you only submissively fallow what your senile elders teach? You are a slave to their teachings. You are a slave to the world. It is you who must tame and rule it.” The rabbit taunted her as he scrunched his pale white whiskers to the sky and furrowed his eyebrows. “If I was given my vigorous legs to run, then I will outrun you for a millennium!”

“Pride is clouding your judgment!” the wolf snarled, frustrated. “You will die today. If you will not listen then I implore you, there is one sentiment left for you this last hour. You will die with nobility, with duty, with love, or you will die as a mangled and crying animal; tears in the mud. This is the decision you must make.”

               The rabbit sat for a moment, glaring up at the wolf in rage. He stepped back, laying his feet heavy to the ground. In a flash, he reared up. The wolf howled furiously as he raked his rabbit claws deep into her muzzle. Blood pattered down into the grass. She trembled to the ground, heckles bristled, her face burning in pain. The wind slowed as the day became darker and the sun was being pulled down the sky.

               The wolf’s head jerked up. Within her eyes, there was a red fury.

“If your duty is a beast to you, it will tear you to shreds without pity. If you will not plant seeds with virtue, you will be the soil they grow in.” The wolf prowled forward. The sun met the horizon as the rabbit cried in the wolf’s jaws. The light descended with it, rapping the two animals in a tulip of light. With ease, the sun pulled the rabbit to the earth. There, he would rest.


Aislyn J. Canady