Clover Longear's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

Clover walked with the drum's beat inside her chest. The path pulled her north and east, down toward deeper ground. Then her ears caught something else. Under the beat, something moved in the dark. It matched her steps. When she stopped, it stopped. It was tracking the drum she carried, and the drum was carrying it straight to her. She pressed her ears flat and listened harder. No breath. No heartbeat. Just a dry scrape, like branches dragging over dirt. Whatever it was avoided the soft ground and kept to the hard packed earth. She could not outrun a thing that heard the beat as clearly as she did. So she stopped running. She stood still and turned to face it. A shape came out of the trees. It stood tall, on two legs, dark from ear to toe. It had a rabbit's long ears and a rabbit's shape, but no face. It moved like a rabbit that had learned to stand up and forgotten how to lie back down. "You heard me," Clover said. Her voice shook. "You've been following the drum." "The beat," the shadow said. Three clipped words. "It found me. I followed." "Why?" The shadow tilted its long ears. "Lost my rabbit. Looking. Always looking." It stepped closer. Clover's fur prickled. "You have a shadow. It stays with you. Mine left." Clover understood then. This thing was not hunting her. It was hunting the sound of home, the same as she was. But it drew real danger. Its dry rustle carried far. Anything in these woods that wanted the warren hidden would hear the shadow and find her too. Before she could speak, the ground opened beside her. An earthen mound rose from the dark, rounded, with soft burrow mouths tucked into its face. Roots framed the openings like fingers. A rabbit stepped out of the middle door. He wore a robe of bark and green leaves, and his eyes glowed like two coins. Roots trailed from his feet into the dirt. "Elder," Clover breathed. She had never met him, but she knew the shape of a warren leader when one stood before her. The Burrow Elder looked at the faceless shadow. Then at Clover. "You carry the old beat." His voice was flat and quiet. "It called this thing to my door. It has been pulling the warren apart from inside. I tracked it three days." "It's lost," Clover said. "Like me." The Elder went stiller. "Lost things dig. My warren is coming down." He raised one clawed paw. Roots snapped up from the ground and coiled around the shadow's legs. It did not fight. It sagged, caught. "Bring it inside," the Elder said. "You too. The drum stays with you." He turned into the mound. "You wanted the warren. You found it. Now you brought the thing that ends it." Clover stepped into Hollowburrow with the shadow bound behind her, and the roots closed the door.