i finally started this! been meaning too for years! it's set in America during the Revolutionary war, feedback wanted!

The cold snow blanketed the ground, broken by patches of mud and dirt. Muddy water filled the streets of Boston. It was a cold day, a few stray snowflakes raced down.

In the few rabbit burrows on the hillside, muddy water was seeping into the tunnels. Ice was forming in the burrow’s entrances. The rabbits inside were shivering.

All but one rabbit. A young buck named Hickory. He sat in the icy entrance to his burrow, feeling the slight wind whip past his fur and the sharp cold chill his nose.

He hesitantly hopped from his burrow, sliding on the ice, and straight toward Boston. He was seeking adventure, without knowing how much he’d get. Here is Hickory’s story.

Boston’s streets were ice cold to my paws. Water sprayed from under wagon wheels. The streets were noisy and crowded. I noticed hundreds of soldiers in bright red uniforms. angry people raged around them, throwing snowballs and stones.

The soldier nearest to me, somewhat of a youngster, was hit with some wayward snow. He fired a musket. It was so loud and hurt my ears. More loud sounds followed.

I was trapped, stepped on, and in my hurry to escape tripped on a stone, rolling into the mud. I had to escape!

I looked for a break in the cluster of boots. There! I ran for it. Just as I was safe, I had to duck a stone. Another, larger, heavier stone sent me sprawling, my vision blackening.

Amber eased through the crowd. It was so tight and cramped, but she had to find Jacob. She called for her brother- he was all she had left.

Amber grabbed a soggy piece of bread from the ground and stuffed it in the pocket of her trousers. She called again for her brother and bumped into a startled young redcoat.

He was the one who had fired at first. He was Amber’s age, and startled.

“Are- are ye aright?” Amber asked. At first, she had been mad- but he was her age- he was still young.

“I am fine, thank you.” He said in a proper British accent. Amber couldn’t help giggling.

“But ye have that towel—” she pointed at the towel the soldier was cradling.

“It’s a rabbit. Hurt in the fight.” He said, smiling softly.

“Is it gonna be fine?” she asked.

He nodded and smiled. “He’ll be right as rain.”

“How do ye ken?” she asked.

“He’s strong as Hickory wood.” The redcoat replied.

“x’cuse me for sayin this, but ye ain’t like most Red-Coats.”

“I ain’t?” he asked, using a bit of bad grammar. It sounded strange with his prim British accent.

“No ye ain’t mister Red.” She spoke. He laughed.

“Drew is fine, Andrew. Andrew Thomas.”

“I’m Amber. Amber Johnson.” They looked at each other a moment, and Drew handed her the towel.

“Take good care of him. His name’s Hickory.” Drew said, then slipped away. Amber blushed, cradled Hickory, then called out for Jacob once again.

This time her twin brother sprinted up, battered and tattered, and the two walked toward the only home they knew.

-Fleck Cove!