Tails of Rabbitopolous

Chapter Five


All three factions of warring rabbits had been touched by man’s global dominance.  Rabbits though have no real cares about the globe, the true prize is Rabbitopolous.  Yet what is this mythical home of the rabbits, why is it worth fighting over?  Little is known about this kingdom of rabbit lore, a burrow of great majesty and wonder that inspired such a long bloody war.  It is said that no one faction can enter without the threat of attack. The entrance itself is guarded by mutually assured destruction.  Protected by a series of traps, no faction able to get close enough to the burrow and disarm them all, before another faction asserts their dominance.  To make sure that the attacking faction can’t do any better, the retreating faction will leave traps of their own. This has left Rabbitopolous with layers upon layers of deadly traps.  Even worse these acts of sheer pettiness not only risk each other but the danger extends to the burrow itself.  If one can’t have it, neither can the others.  Rumours suggest that none of the factions can truly remember what resides in this glorious burrow, only that it belongs to them.

Though the fluffy factions tell different tales, there’s a common theme amongst the stories.  A grand and expansive burrow with tunnels feeding to wonderful open plains of rolling hills and glistening greens.  There are perfect patches of land that produce the freshest of foods.  There’s a sun that bathes the land in light with wonderful warmth to bask in.  Soft showers sift through the skies to keep the sprawling plains glorious and green.  At night a cooling breeze sweeps across the land and stars sparkle in the sky, telling the stories of rabbit legends past and lost.  Then there is the burrow itself, protection from the elements and home to subjects of the land.  It’s a place to sleep and a place to dream, for bunnies to be born and raised in peace.  A palace illuminated by moonlight bouncing from minerals in the tunnels, travelling from the entrance all the way to the central chamber.  Those long winding tunnels separate man’s world and the land of the lagomorphs. At the centre of the burrow sits what you could call a throne, where a wise and benevolent leader would sit.  Quietly the rabbit king would watch over it’s subjects, whiskers twitching with pride that the world is at peace for all rabbit-kind.  With the warring rabbits holding this place with such high regard, it was clear that their war would rage on until one faction rises above the rest, or they can learn to live together.

As war was waged through generations and a great many years, the stories of Rabbitopolous turned to legends and exaggerated myths.  Yet these myths have been the most destructive element to life not just for bunnies, as man would eventually see.  As the rabbits cling to dreams and a selfish desire to keep Rabbitopolous for one faction alone, any periods of quiet could only last so long.


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