Lept a frightened hare,
Running for it’s life.
The hunters had been tracking it,
And under the cover of darkness,
They had flushed it out of the bushes,
And sent their dogs after it.
Snapped at it’s hind legs,
But the hare was clever,
And it kicked the nose of the lead hound.
It knew the area well,
It knew where to duck,
Where to dodge,
Where to tuck,
And where to hide.
It managed to get away for a moment,
And catch it’s breath by a nearby lake.
At the lake side,
Rested a wise woman,
A witch of sorts.
She pulled back her long wavy hair,
And between the ringlets,
She spied the hare,
Frightened and shaking.
“Dear hare…” she said,
“What is making you shake?”
The hare replied to the witch,
“I am being chased by a hunter and his dogs,
They have chased me over fields, bogs and marshes,
But I am tired now, and I fear they will soon catch me.”
The witch thought to herself,
And then she spoke,
“Dear hare, I will help you,
I will use my powers to transform you!”
The hare stared out into the water,
And his thoughts conjured a plan.
“Give me gills, give me gills like a fish,
So that I can swim away from danger.”
The witch lifted her hands,
Conjured green fire,
And as it rained down,
It soaked into the hare,
And his neck began to itch,
And he twitched and jerked,
Upon his body,
And where his toes met,
The sound of the hunters horn echoed loudly,
And the hare dived into the lake.
And when he was far out,
He dived under,
In the water.
The hounds lost his scent,
And the hare was safe at last.
It swam around the lake,
Enjoying it’s new found freedom.
From the depths of the lake,
Swam a giant trout,
Abnormal in size.
It gathered pace,
Quicker and quicker.
The poor hare had no idea what to expect,
It did not know the lake like it knew the land.
It had gills,
But not the senses to detect danger.
The giant trout gobbled up the hare.
If only the hare had realised,
It is better to face an enemy you know,
In your environment,
Than it is to face the unknown dangers of unknown realms.