The Mind-Boggling Anti-Logic of a Tyrant

Warning: This story contains death, mental illness, and the senselessness of war.

The small brown rabbit hopped from shadow to shadow through the underbrush, his sister followed close behind. Razin stopped suddenly and Fizza hopped right into his backside. “Oof!” Giggle.

Razin whispered, “Stop. What have I been teaching you?”

Fizza rolled her eyes, “Be careful when venturing out into open spaces.”

“Okay then. Let me look.” Razin cautiously parted the ferns and peeked through the opening, the fronds tickled his nose like feathers, he stifled a sneeze with his paw. Fizza giggled and Raisin sighed. 

“All clear,” he said.

Fizza leapt into the clearing ahead of her brother. It was a small clearing full of sunlight and colorful spring flowers. Snowy trilliums and delicate blue forget-me-knots swayed with the tender grasses in the warm breeze. Fizza rolled onto her back amongst a pansy patch, her white cottontail buried in the velvety purple petals. She paused wiggling to nibble the sweet delicacies as orange butterflies flitted through the cerulean sky above.

Razin allowed himself a quick roll in thick, soft grass, the kind with tufted ends, they looked like fuzzy weasel tails. They tasted good too. Nearly every fresh new grass and flower in this mini meadow was a delectable treat. 

As enchanting as this Eden was, Razin remained alert. His long ears perked straight up like radar dishes, attune to the slightest change in the tempo of their surroundings. He heard each buzzing bee, each flutter of wings …he even heard the tiny chewing mandibles of a ladybug ten feet away. His nose crinkled and his whiskers quivered as he drew in every scent in the vicinity. He glanced over at Fizza, now savoring tender yellow grass stems, and was satisfied to see her ears alert and her nose quivering as well.

In the forest where they lived, there was danger everywhere for a small, defenseless rabbit. ‘Low on the food chain, keep low to the ground.’ This is what his parents told him every day as he left the burrow to forage. 

On this perfect day, he detected no maliferous odors. The larger the carnivore, the stronger their musky stench.

The clouds were sparse but hypnotic puffy white ships. He munched on dandelions as he watched them gathering like conspirators deciding where to dump their watery load. As they floated out of sight, he noticed how low in the sky the sun was.

“Fizza,” he called softly.

“Mmmm?”

“The foxes will be waking soon.”

“Yes. An hour until sunset I reckon.”

“I promised Mother we’d head home when the sun touched the pines on the horizon.”

“Ooookay. Let me gather up some more fixins for our supper.”

“Alright. But be quick about it and let’s do it while heading out.”

As the rabbits gathered leafy greens and fragrant flowers, a flitter of wing beats buzzed overhead in a greyish brown blur. Razin watched it land on a branch overhanging the path from the clearing.

The tiny wren tittered, “Danger! Danger is coming.” Razin paused with his paw hovering over a velutinous yellow flower. The bird’s ominous message, in contrast to its high pitched, sing-songy voice made his fur stand on end.

Fizza said to the shivering little bird, “We know the foxes hunt these woods at night...”

“That’s not it. Oh Bunnies. Didn’t you hear?”

Razin and Fizza glanced at each other. Razin realized his hand was still outstretched over the flower. He lowered it. “Wha---"

“The brown bears! They’ve just announced they are taking over these woods- the entire Green Forest! They’ve sent doves to spread the word.”

“That’s crazy! These are fox ruled woods---” started Fizza.

Razin said, “What about the White Woods? That’s bobcat territory…”

The finch said, “I’ve got to move my family. Good luck to you!” It whizzed off like a bullet shot from the branch.

Fizza said, “It can’t be true.”

“We’ve got to find a message dove!”

Homeward bound they raced. 

There were seven burrows in the warren that housed their entire rabbit clan of fifty-three. Halfway home, they heard a booming crash behind them. It sounded like a tree not falling to the ground but thrown to it. It was far off, but their nerves were jangled, they both cried out squeaky “eeks!”

After two more crashes, the rabbits approached the last grassy hillock under which the burrow’s entrance was hidden. As they came around it, they were startled to see over forty rabbits gathered in a crowd like a fluffy carpet of brown pom poms studded with long ears. Auntie Mae, Uncle Bob, Auntie Jenny, her twin sister Penny, One-eyed Uncle Spatzle, their own parents, and dozens of cousins. Only the wee-est were not present. Their rapt attention was focused on the mourning dove that cooed a message from a birch above their heads.

“…I’m sorry, we know not why he does this.”

Uncle Rebar cried out, “We’ve lived under the foxes’ rule peacefully our entire lives! What does King Olaf want? The Red Forest is six times as big as the White Woods and Green Forest put together!”

The dove said, “All I know is that brown bear…” the dove’s pretty face contorted with disgust, “…is saying stay, or go, either way he’s taking our land.”

The crowd’s voices lifted in a cacophony of outrage, many exclaiming, “…he’s crazy!” and “…utterly mad!”

The dove flew off. Its wings made a ‘whee, whee, whee, whee,’ sound, like high-pitched puffs through a flute. 

The sun was setting, parent rabbits ushered their children into their burrows while the elder rabbits talked amongst themselves. Stay? Or go? Where would they go? If they stayed, would the bears hunt them? Will the foxes fight for rule of their land? Or abandon it? 

The forest was eerily silent. No happy chattering yips from the foxes of the Green Forest, no undulating howls from the wolves of the Azure Forest, no rumbling snarls from the bobcats of the White Woods. No night birds, frogs, or chittering bugs. The silence unnerved the rabbits in their soft hay beds and Razin was certain all their eyes were open. At least the thunderous crashing had ceased.

At dawn, the ‘whee, whee, whee, whee’ sound announced the dove’s approach.

The rabbits gathered into a pom-pom carpet.

The dove landed and waddled her lightbulb shaped body to the end of the birch branch. She said, “The foxes are standing their ground.”

A voice in the crowd said, “They will be slaughtered. We need to leave. The brown bears will surely eat us!”

“My parents are too old to travel…”

“My babies are weak with spring fevers…”

“This is our beloved home…”

The dove said, “Stay tuned for further news.” And flew off.

In the distance, a tree fell…or was thrown…to the ground.

Half the rabbits left the warren. They were anxious to get to relatives in the neighboring woodlands. The forest floor was an exodus of small furry mammals, as large and small formed a river of multi-colored fur: Black and white skunks, rusty red weasels, and a hundred shades of brown and grey.

Overhead, clouds of starlings swarmed in one direction, then another, unsure where to go. Jays indignantly squawked, and wrens and finches screamed shrilly, as their nests crashed to the ground, their unborn with them.

Razin’s family huddled in their burrow, afraid to leave, afraid to stay. All day long the ground thundered with falling trees. He wished he had a switch on his head he could turn on and off like a mute button. Alas, he heard every wail of despair and every scream cut off by death. Even during the night, the bears were relentless. They tore into the Green Forest like a cyclone, ripping apart every bush and tree in their path. In the deep indigo hours of early morning, the woods fell nearly silent. Eventually, as the faintest of pink backdropped the hills to the east, the weeping sounds ceased as well. Razin understood the mourners and injured had simply cried themselves to sleep. Or died.

His exhausted family slept. ‘Let them rest as long as possible,’ he thought as he ventured out from the burrow. From under the safety of the hillock, he peeked out. The woods to the west were intact. But the horror to the east was a heart wrenching nightmare. Not a shrub remained rooted. The beautiful green grasses and fragrant flowers of spring were gone, trampled into brown muck. Only the thickest trees remained standing. 

Razin had smelled carcasses in all stages of decomposition, it was the natural way of a forest. But this grim morning, odors were too fresh. Blood, feces, urine, and entrails. He gagged and vomited. He had in the past smelled the aftermath of ground that had been cleared by humans. Earthy, loamy…with those nasty ones tucked in here and there. This smell was ranker by far. He vomited again until his stomach lurched only dry heaves. 

‘Whee, whee, whee, whee.’ In the gloom of pre-dawn, the pale feathers of the dove glowed. It landed on the ground close to Razin where it could speak softly.

The dove said, “The brown bears are camped just over that rise, on the other side of what was the cedar grove, they come this way just after sunrise.”

“But King Olaf said the citizens of the Green Forest could stay…”

“Of course, he wants you to stay. You’re yummy to him.”

“But the foxes…Queen Rainier said---”

“The foxes are gone. Most slaughtered. A few fled alongside your kin. Queen Rainier held off the bears that came for her family as long as she could. Only her son, Prince Cyrus, survived. He is currently leading a band of refugees towards The White Woods.”

The White Woods neighbored The Green Forest on its north side.

Razin said, “I’ve got to go to them!”

“That’s a death wish. Half the bears are heading that way. Once they hold the north and east, they will march west to the Azure.”

“This is genocide! He must be insane…bears don’t kill for pleasure. Only humans do that.” Razin’s head was spinning. “Please tell my family to go west and north. I will meet them in British Columbia with the rest of our clan.”

The dove only stared at him. Then she shook her head and muttered, “Okay. Dead rabbit hopping.” She flew to the hillock, called towards the western pines until a blue jay swooped down beside her.

Razin’s snowy white tail vanished into the gloom. Behind him he heard the jay squawking like the most annoying alarm clock ever.

The path the exodus of creatures made, including many of his loved ones, was easy to follow. 

Broken branches, flattened grass, and bare dirt were like signposts, but also fresh excrement, shed on the run. Razin smelt the fear in it.

He ran for hours, stopping only to pick burrs from his feet and drink from the stream that bordered the Northern edge of the Green Forest. He veered to the east and topped a hill for a decent view. It was a grim sight. Toppled trees and barren earth…dotted with clumps of tufted red fur. A sob escaped his throat as he tore his eyes from the smallest, it was just a wee kit.

He continued along the border until he faced a river that the stream drained into. He couldn’t swim. He turned towards the west again and soon found the exodus path. Because it was spring, food was everywhere along his journey. He was careful to not eat too much but only enough for energy. He avoided pink flowers that may cause cramps and white fur covered leaves that may make him sleepy. He was elated to find mustard root that energized him.

He napped briefly after dark, tucked beneath a moss clump ripe with chanterelle spores. He thought to himself before drifting off, ‘I’ve got to remember this spot. Mmmmm.’ 

He awoke in the dark and found the path. But his eyes weren’t night friendly, and he ran into a tree. Then into a mucky puddle of slimy goop. “Aaaaahhhhgh! Come on!”

Something laughed from the tree over his head. A small-lunged laugh, rodenty and slightly wheezy. A bat.

“Quit that,” he said.

“Can’t help it. You funny.”

“Don’t feel much like laughing.”

“Can’t see in the dark, eh?”

“Dang. A Canadian bat?”

“I apologize for laughing…”

‘Definitely Canadian.’

The bat said, “I can help you. I saw the animals fleeing the bears. They went this way.”

“No shit,” Razin said. Bats had a reputation for being obtuse. But he had offered to help. “Look I really do need your help; I’d be forever grateful.”

“I will help. I’ve seen much horror. I’d be dead if I couldn’t fly.”

So, rushing through the woods, albeit at a slower pace, the duo sped on. Razin nearly blind in the dark, with Elfe clinging to his neck crying, “Jump! And left! And duck!” And so on and so on.

When Razin stumbled and slowed, Elfe bit his ear… and suddenly he was wide awake again. The bat was a drill sergeant, barking orders and controlling Razin as he ran… he appreciated it and was grateful.

By the thin purply light of dawn, the duo again came upon a branch of the river. It was a small stream, and the new friends drank and rested.

Razin said, “I can find my way now. Thank you, friend. If you find your way into Western Canada, look me up. We’ll share a drink of sweet nectar and reminisce about this time.”

Elfe said, “I will do that my friend. Au Revoir.” He flew up into the pines on the lush side of the remaining woods to recuperate for the long flight north.

Razin took off again down the path, though more cautiously than before. The thundering boom of trees falling had resumed. The heavy footsteps of bears were not that far off, and the occasional screams of innocents too late to get out of the bear army’s way kept him alert. He kept on until just before dusk when his eyes grew weak again.

The forest suddenly obscured the path. ‘Whaaa?’ he thought. He turned in a circle all around him. Thick woods to his left, bare rock along the river to his right, the trail he’d been following was behind him.

The large swath shorn through the forest that he’d been following suddenly ended. He searched around the edges of the path, but the sun was setting, and his bunny eyes again failed in the gloom. He heard the bear army off to the east, on the other side of the river and felt it was safe to burrow under some mossy earth for the night.

Thunder woke him. Trees falling. Dawn approaching.

He looked around and found himself in a small clearing. It was about the size of the one he’d smorgasborded in with his sister. ‘Fizza.’ How he missed her! She was headed far north. He hoped. The earth in this clearing smelled…off. It was freshly turned and that was off too.

As he turned in the dim dawn light, he saw a mountainous shadow at the edge of the clearing facing the east. As he watched, the mountain grew darker as the sun lit the horizon behind it. He was mesmerized.

He understood the overtured earth under his feet. He understood the un-naturalness of it.

The mountain moved. The top formed into the shape of a face with a blunt muzzle and pointed nose as it looked to its right.

A bear! 

Too paralyzed to scream, he was scooped up in two giant paws. One on his back and head, the other over his mouth. “Shhhhhhhh,’ said the bear. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to put you down now, okay? Please don’t scream, they’ll hear you.”

Inside the humongous and not all that unpleasant smelling paws, Razin nodded. The paws smelled of pine sap and earth, and shaggy animal musk.

The bear said, “I am sick of all this killing.” He put Razin on the ground. His shoulders sagged. He shook his fearsome head and said, “I’m leaving. Going far away…”

Razin said, “The Azure Forest?”

The bear shook his head. “That’s not far enough.”

His words chilled Razin to the marrow as their meaning sunk in.

Razin said, “I was following my family and many others… the path ended here…” his voice broke.

“I’m so sorry. I had no part in this,” he gestured to the large fresh patch of earth. “When they started digging, it was dark, and I was able to hide until they left.”

Tears overflowed Razin’s eyes. 

The bear looked away, uncomfortable and ashamed. “We were happy too. We had our own woods and…and…he IS insane! Rabid! We are afraid of him. He’s been foaming at the mouth for weeks now! And ranting about little worm men with holes for eyes that burrow into your brain! He sleeps with his eyes open!”

“How can he be stopped?”

“Every day we hope the disease that’s rotting his insides will finally kill him.”

“We?”

“Oh yes, only a handful of browns are loyal to him, they’re crazy with bloodlust. Murderers. Perhaps as rabid as he is. The rest are too afraid. They’d be killed if they spoke out…or worse.”

“You’re sure of this?”

The bear looked to the sky with fresh tears glistening in his large dark eyes. Softly, he said, “My Rosie is gone. My son too. I am alone for speaking out.”

Razin touched the huge paw and said, “I’m going to find my remaining family. In Canada. Come with me. You won’t be alone, and I’ll have protection.”

The giant beast looked down and nodded.

Razin knelt at the edge of the immense grave and bowed his head in silent prayer. Then he climbed onto the paw and was lifted to the bear’s neck.

A tree crashed behind them as they headed northeast.