bunny or rabbit - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The rabbit is all instinct out there in the twilight, both taking in the sweet fresh air ever alert for danger.
When the last sunrays of the day kiss the heathland, when the greens and purples melt into grey under the moonlight, that's when the warren empties and the rabbits are out to forage and play. They move slowly, lolloping in their ungainly way, grazing as they go. At the slightest noise they're up on their hind legs, black eyes staring in more directions than we predator animals can. Sometimes I watch them for a while, just because I need to eat, it doesn't mean I don't appreciate nature. Then I take aim, one bullet, one fat rabbit for stew, job done. They scatter after that and I don't have the patience to stick around for more. Si keeps telling me to set traps instead, but I like my stake-out ritual, and to be honest, knots have never been my thing.
The rabbit in Todd's yard is as about as far removed from a wild bunny as I am from Einstein. It just sits there eating, ignoring us "predators" as we approach. It's so round I laugh, "That is one fat hopper!" Todd grins and opens the hatch to put in more carrots.
"Yeah, man. Like you can talk. How many tonnes is that mutt of yours? Anyway, in the zombie apocalypse I can eat her. What's your excuse?" He has a point, Sandy is a barrel on legs. But he's not getting off that easy. I make a grimace, like I just hate to tell him the truth.
"You know a football with fur'd be more attractive. Maybe if we just cut the ears off..."
Todd looks at me, face screwed up like he's got some internal debate going on. "I think you'd look better without a face, how about we take that off before we do surgery on Lisa's rabbit?"
I nod grimly. "You're right. We should. But I'd hate for you to be left out. Let's improve your odds in next weeks math test by giving you the rabbit's brain..."
Our albino rabbit would be fox-food about five minutes after liberation, yet he dug under every fence we put around him. Escape to him was a duty, like some prisoner of war, but out there wasn't freedom. Our countryside is white for about a week each winter, the rest of the time he might as well hop about with a "come get me" sign about his neck. In his heart he was wild and free, fearless and brave; in reality he was short eared, mid-length furred and pink eyed. I doubt he had had the vision to see a predator from only meters away. My sister called him "Snowy," I just called in "Stupid" and put a layer of wire mesh at the bottom of his run. Now he just sits there looking sulky, but at least Alice won't be crying her eyes out again over his latest bid for great unknown.
The rabbit cowered in the corner of his pen, unlike his sibling he had never gotten used to the petting or being out in the daylight. All he saw was predators coming with their forward looking eyes and nowhere to hide. Perhaps for him it's like being in a jail cell with some alien beast coming at him, making some noise it thinks is soothing but he can't tell that it isn't calling its monster mates to join in the kill. I try to imagine that creature out of "Alien" asking for a hug and poking a chocolate bar at me. Sure it's good food, but I hardly think I'd have an appetite right then.
The rabbit cowered in the dark "safe" part of the hutch. It didn't like to be picked up or stroked. It didn't like loudness or the artificial soapy smell of the creatures that visited. They were here now with their frontal predator eyes and high pitched voices. First eyeballs with their unnatural shiny whiteness stare from the sunlit outside and then in comes a hand. As the fingers clasp over her back and around her belly she panics. All she's got are her back legs and she uses them, furiously digging at any skin she can reach. There is a scream. She lands back on the straw and the hand is gone. She has escaped them this time but they always return. First comes the noise and then the smell. By then she's in her house, heart racing fast.
A movement in the shadows has me frozen; it's no more than a rustle but in this failing light my heart is on a hair-trigger. More noise comes. I take a step back and pat my pocket for my flick knife, but every one is flat. I crouch low, my lungs rapidly inflating and deflating with sweet rain-scented air. Minutes pass and what was evening is rapidly becoming the night. Without warning a young rabbit darts from the bushes, it's white under-tail bobbing furiously as it kicks a the springy ground. The rest of his earthen coat just blends into the gloom and in only seconds he is gone, likely already in the warren. I almost laugh, all that for some bunny. I stand, feeling the ache in my legs, stillness and cold are never a good combination.
The rabbit was fidgety and nervous. In a spilt second it had squirmed in her grasp and was furiously scratching at her bare arm with it's back legs. She screamed and dropped it. As she watched it hop way at high speed she realized sadly that the rabbit would be even more difficult to handle now.
The chocolaty brown buck is chewing the vegetation, cutting grass and leaves with his sharp incisors at front. Then suddenly, reacting to a sound I cannot hear, he stands on his hind legs. Then he thumps a warning on the ground with his long hind foot, before tearing off to the safety of his underground warren. His doe and their young kittens are already safely beneath the soil, protected by the sandy earth around them. The kittens are pink, helpless and blind, born into chamber lined with fur from the doe. They suckle milk until they are.independent at four to five weeks old.
The rabbit was as brown as freshly dug earth and as soft as sun-warmed grass. It's ears were velvety and it's long back feet rested in my hand. When I set him down his fluffy tail bobs up and down as he runs, seeking safety of his hutch.
Lucy would describe her rabbit's fur as the color of tree bark, for like the bark it was mottled and varied. He had a twitching nose and round doleful eyes always on the look-out for danger, always observing for predators.
A fat hare jumps out from the bushes, its peaceful sleep disturbed by the inevitable downpour. Its small pink nose twitches, glumly staring at me. How adorable.