Here is chapter 2! Lemme know what you think and any tips or suggestions you guys might have! Blessings, A. R. ---‐---‐----------------‐----‐-----‐---------------------- Laurel woke near sunrise. Her mother was asleep in the chair next to her bed, her expression serene despite the lives they lived. Laurel watched her mother for a few minutes, trying to understand why they were here. She had heard the story at least a hundred times. They were taken as hostages when she was a toddler; a pack of wolves tore through the small settlement they had lived in, a small town on the outskirts of the Great Wood. Her parents both had told her the sad tale, of how king Jupiter, the greatest king of rabbitkind, had been betrayed to death by one Garten Longtreader, a rabbit. One of their own kind.      Since then, the rabbits of Natalia were picked off like ripe fruit in the fall. Wolves and birds of Prey either slaughtered them where they stood, or took them off to the slave city of Akolan, to live under the cruel iron talons of Morbin.      But her parents told her of a hope. As she had gotten older, they trusted her with a hidden hope; they told her of a Mended wood, where a secret heir would come forth and break the bondage of rabbitkind and defeat the cruel predators for good. Or at least, that’s what they hoped for…      Her dad was killed a couple weeks ago. He had been working in one of the mine shafts when it collapsed. Well, that’s what they said. Laurel and her mother wondered if a hawk had started the collapse. It was rumored that her father was part of a secret society that was in the process of changing rabbits lives. Some though it would be freedom. Others thought a new dictatorship. Regardless, having any such association with a group that rebelled against their master was dangerous, and it was proved rightly so when of 15 miners, only one escaped; and that was one of the commandment.      Dylan.      Since that accident, he had been trying to talk to her. More than usual. Sure, she had known him from a distance, and one of the lieutenants of the commandment joked that Dylan had a crush on one of the servants in Akolan, but she never expected his attention to be aimed at her. But now, when her mother and her were mourning? When all the servants were being beat and tortured for minimal mistakes? What did he want?      Laurel scowled at herself and slowly shifted, sitting upright in bed. Swinging her feet over the edge of her bed, she slowly got to her feet. Her headache had subsided to a dull throb, and her whole body felt bruised and torn, but she felt better than she did yesterday. Walking softly across the room to not wake up her mother, Laurel exited into the hallway and out into the kitchen.      She quickly relit the fire and started to boil water for tea and checked the cupboards. Bread. Bread. More bread. Sighing, Laurel pulled out a loaf and began to cut it and distribute them among three plates.. well, what they had for plates anyways. Before her dad died, he had managed to buy some wooden pallets that he had somehow carved down to make a sort of dish. They worked well for their family, even after his death. Laurel frowned as she remembered that Patrick would’ve come home last night from school. She wondered if he even was home, or if he had stayed another night. No one knew anymore when their kids could come home.      Well, they never really knew if they would see him again. Patrick's parents had mysteriously disappeared a couple months ago, and he was left to fend for himself. But they had somehow convinced one of the lieutenants to let them take him in. Laurel froze. Which lieutenant did mom speak to when she asked to adopt Patrick? She wondered. She wouldn’t be surprised if it happened to be Dylan.      “You should be resting,” a voice said quietly, a hint of rebuke hidden in the soft statement. Laurel looked up and saw her mother. She was a beautiful doe, despite her thin frame and careworn wrinkles. Her fur was a beautiful honey and her eyes a deep hazel. How could they be any different? Laurel was grey with black ears, her eyes the darkest green. She wondered if they had only named her Laurel because of her eyes. Her parents had been light colored and quiet, while she dark furred and stubborn. That didn’t help much where she worked.     Laurel came out of her trance and offered her mom a smile. “I feel better; I don’t know why master Brown gave me the day off, but I’ll use it to get some work done.” Fern grimaced but said nothing. She merely came out into the living room and began to sing. Laurel usually knew all the songs her mother sang, but this one was different.      “The skies once so blue and beautiful are littered with crass cruel foes,      Their bleak black wings beat a dreadful beat over sorrowful songs of woes,      Songs of suffering and cruel murders all lament and never a voice,    Raised with grateful gladness to the heights  never reason to rejoice,      But it will not be so in the Mended Wood, we'll be free and glad again,      It will not be so in the Mended Wood, when the heir of Jupiter reigns.”      Laurel stared at her mother in shock, her tongue refusing to work. When she found it, she asked hoarsely, “Mom, is… is that what-" she choked. Her mother looked at her with a worried expression. “You must tell no one. Your father,” her voice broke. “was working at a project to bring us all to safety. Word of his work reached the wrong ears and now, we will be burdened with more work, with no thought of any hope.” Her eyes had filled with tears and her strong confidence began to crumble.      “If there is any hope, it isn’t here; it’s a song, Laurel! Nothing more! I had hope, a hope that your father and I both shared with you when you were old enough. But look where that has us? Your father was murdered, your being beat by your master, and Patrick will be moved to another home. There is no hope!” Her mother almost shouted, turning to run to her room. Laurel didn’t know she was trembling until she dropped the plate she had been holding. The beautiful carved wood snapped and split through the middle.      Tears rolled down Laurel’s face as she crumbled to the floor. She thought of her father, her mother, Patrick, and the horrible reality they found themselves in. No hope? But there had to be! What had her parents been holding onto for all these years? What had father worked for, even giving his life! Laurel balled her hands into fists and ground her teeth, trying to bottle up the anger that was rising in her chest. There is hope! How can there not be? In the song, even father’s death! She shouted inwardly. She was angry that her mom was acting so broken, so weak when they had to be so strong. She was angry that she was being beat for the fun of it. Why were all the masters cracking down? Were they scared about something? If so, what?      Laurel cursed under her breath and wiped her eyes as she stood up and wrapped a slice of bread in a piece of linen. She would go to work. Her anger would fuel her progress. Her mother would be in no mood to see her anyways. Putting the food into her pocket and tying the wretched red scarf around her neck, she left the house, not even stopping to dress her wounds.