Fleck somehow managed to turn their frantic flight into a race. Helmerson was always ahead, then Bastille was in the lead. They passed into the great wood, Fleck pushing away tears as they pounded through the forest. Their pursuit was lagging behind.

They passed Harbone Citadel. Some young soldiers nodded to Fleck and motioned him toward the burrow. Fleck rode Helmerson over. Bastille kept running, making a face.

"Fleck!" The nearest soldier exclaimed, limping over. It was Meeker.

"Meeker!" The short reunion was joyful. The rabbits froze, hearing a scream.

"I gotta go! For the cause!" Fleck yelled, urging Helmerson into a gallop.

When Fleck emerged from the wood, he gasped and dismounted. The ground was hard under his injured foot. He tied his horse to the nearest tree, then limped toward the wall.

Bastille was in the path of several arrows fired from crossbows.

Fleck had no choice but to run. He leapt in front of Bastille, blocking the arrows.

Fleck crashed to the ground, black edges forming around his eyes.

....................

Bastille gasped. She had misjudged Fleck. She had hated him for no reason. Now he had saved her life and was probably losing his. She rushed to his side and examined his wounds.

His right shoulder was injured badly. The other arrows looked like they had done little damage, but Bastille wasn't sure if she could do anything.

Bastille shouted. She hoped someone had heard her. Fleck was barely conscious. The guards readied their crossbows, but as they were about to fire, each guard fell from the wall. A buck climbed to the top before descending a ladder. He sprinted over.

"Bastille?" He asked.

"Father?" Bastille asked, recognition in her eyes.

"Aye." He said, bending to examine Fleck.

"Will he be alright?" Bastille asked.

"I don't know. Let's get him to the farm. Maybe Airen and Sno can do something."

"D-does that mean it's bad?" Bastille stuttered.

"Aye. If no one acts, it could be fatal." The buck said.

Sorry If anyone is mad at me for this.

-Fleck.