His ears twitched and bright eyes focused on the dark surroundings of the night.
Poised on powerful hind legs, the hare tore grass from the earth and chewed while the tip of its nose glistened with dew.
Rustling nearby; a stench so recognisable from the nemesis – golden sleek hunter coming closer through the curtains of undergrowth.
Those hind legs engaging, carrying the hare across the fields darting left then right, the route etched into his memory for all eternity.
Light engulfs the field as early morning tractorwork ensues, causing the fox to hesitate when he is caught in bright beams.
Heartbeat slows and the grass is swallowed, front paws feeling their way through last year’s stubble.
In response to last Thursday’s Six Sentence Story courtesy of DENISE.