... here ya go. *sniff* Blessings, Abbi -----------------------------------------------------------      The next couple days were difficult. Laurel tried to stay away from home as much as possible. She was filled with remorse over her mother’s and her spat, but she didn’t know how she could make it right. Patrick was always the one to sooth any mishaps. Even her dad had that effect. But neither of them were there.      Laurel was standing alone. In this hurricane of hardship and loneliness, she was desolate. Nothing but the howling, haunting, anguish she faced as she tried to fight. To fight for her family and friends. For freedom. For the Cause.        Laurel followed Virgil Brown down the hallway towards Morbin’s throne room. It was absolutely chaotic, but there seemed to be a jubilant air in this hideous hole. The halls were full of rabbits and birds, an occasional wolf or two as well, all clambering to the designated gathering room. But only a few were chosen to be in the council. One of those was Brown… and his aid.      Laurel had been coming as Brown’s aid for close to a month now, and though she was fairly confident and comfortable, she didn’t want to be here today. She'd much rather be scrubbing the stone courtyard by hand, or washing linens.      Brown had told her earlier that today’s gathering would be a sort of celebration. He didn’t elaborate on the reason behind the occasion, but Laurel had a sinking feeling in her gut that something had gone terribly wrong. Terribly wrong for the Cause, terribly good for Morbin Blackhawk.      Brown called her, and Laurel came to his side. He motioned towards the wall, and they both treaded their way through the swarm of traffic. Many rabbits cursed at them for disrupting the flow of travel, but they had learned to ignore the insults hurled at them by cocky, over-ambitious lieutenants.      “Treat this as you would any other day, Evergreen. We'll stay close to the wall should I need to send you somewhere. But all will be well,” he assured with a small smile. Laurel was amazed at the change in this buck. He seemed so different from her master, despite he was the same rabbit; where had the old rabbit gone that would beat her if she made the simplest mistake?      They continued on the walk towards Morbin’s throne room and soon reached the threshold to the villain's office. They managed to get through the door and found their places as quickly as they could. They had entered through the front, double doored entrance of the throne room, and found their places to the far right in the corner, close to the servants doors leading to smaller hallways and passages.      Laurel stood behind Brown and looked around, amazed that she could see the majority of the room and its occupants. It seemed so bare, this throne room, without so many rabbits, wolves, and raptors.      Morbin was perched on his throne, a smug look of contempt and dark amusement in his beady eyes. His sickle was in his talons as always, and he continually looked over the room. Laurel had learned how to hide herself in the shadows, which proved useful as no one noticed her, apart from Brown who always made sure he saw and knew where his aid had placed herself.      Laurel noticed Garten Longtreader enter the room, a few captains following him; Vitton and Dylan were included in that party. She could tell Dylan was looking around the room, though his head never turned. He was looking for her, and trying to be inconspicuous. Vitton looked rather smug to be invited along to this council. Laurel clenched her fists at her sides, trying to breath in slowly.      Then other birds of prey and some wolves joined the room. Laurel recognized them, having seen them from a distance a couple times in the last few weeks, but she couldn’t recall what their names were. Quite frankly, she didn’t care. A wolf was a wolf, and a raptor was a raptor.      Morbin began to speak with Garten, and the side conversations stopped.      “All is in place, Ambassador?” He asked, staring at the grey rabbit.      Garten nodded, bowing. “It is, sire.”      Some servants entered the room, all bearing trays of wine. Laurel immediately recognized Sween, though she looked like she was straining herself from running out of the room. Laurel watched her, not paying attention to the conversation anymore, as Sween approached Garten Longtreader.      The grey rabbit stared at her, his eyes full of conceited pride and a mocking sort of smile on his face. Laurel looked back at Sween who looked about ready to cry. What could Ambassador Longtreader gain from causing such misery for Sween, of all rabbits?      Finally, after what felt like ages of the awkward interaction between the two, Sween finished serving the beverages along with Melody, who stood impatiently behind the older doe. Laurel couldn’t explain what or why, but something didn’t sit right with her.      She looked over at Dylan again, who was closest to a side door on the other side of the room. He also looked uncomfortable. Did he sense something too, other than the news that Morbin and the wolves planned to attack the Cause?            Laurel turned back to look at Morbin, who was watching his fellow predator Shelt explain the reasoning behind rabbit slaves. She couldn’t register what they were saying. Her heart was beginning to pound and she felt her lungs compressing. Something is terribly wrong.      Then, Melody coughed. Oh no!      Everyone turned their eyes on the young doe who was balancing her half full tray on one arm, while she coughed into the other. Laurel noticed her expression and her heart stopped. Melody, no!      “What was that, slave? Have something to say?” One of the wolves asked, peering at her with a hungry look in his eyes. Laurel trembled.      Melody dropped her tray, the glasses shattering and scattering across the stone floor as she ran towards Morbin’s throne. Laurel couldn’t breath. She looked at Dylan who looked like he was about to have a heart attack.      “The Green Ember rises! The seed of the new world smolders-" These words were barely out of Melody's mouth when Morbin reacted. He withdrew his sickle and with a blood-curdling shriek, he brought it down.      There was a horrendous scream. Laurel didn’t know if it was her or Melody.      The doe was deathly quiet. Laurel looked up and felt all the blood drain from her face. Melody’s body laid limply against the floor, her blood slowly but surely smearing across the stone. Her face no longer bore the fierce determination Laurel had grown accustomed to. It was full of sorrow.      Laurel turned and pushed through the small side door she was beside, feeling sick. She was trembling so hard, she could barely walk. She could hear the council continue on as if nothing had happened. How could they??      She stumbled against the wall in the small, dark hallway, her eyes burning with tears. A sob escaped her and she clamped her hands over her mouth. Oh, Melody!      Laurel fought against her tears as much as she could, but to no avail.      She heard footsteps somewhere in the back of her mind and looked up through blinding tears, trying to see who it was. When she met his blue gaze, she lost it.      Dylan pulled her into his arms and held her close as she cried, his own tears rolling down his face.      Melody was gone.