1 - Gauze

Limping and wading through reeds and cane, jumping and sputtering, a rabbit sped. One hand clutched over one red arm as he went, the sun as his guide. The rabbit did his very best to scurry from the pursuers tailing him. He ran. Bleeding all the while, blind to the world above the grass. He ran. Nothing made sense except for dashing off. The rabbit’s rapid breathing was as loud in his own head as the shrinking shouts, searching for his and his teammates’ hideaway. Jagged pebbles leapt and bound after his feet, blood winding down his arm. Gah, which way was it? Right? Ohoho no- that’s a clearing, with a shed smack in the middle. Left? It’s probably fine. He took a moment to breathe, and pivoted left. All the din seemed to quieten down. He had a shot at getting away.

The rabbit ran, ran, ran, and dropped. 

A few moments to process, as the shouting got louder. “God- fuck- pff, “ he winced, finally processing his fall into a trench, pulling his face out of the mud. The world refused to refocus. The moment it clicked, the rabbit pressed himself against the wall, taking in the fallen canopy of vine around him. He pushed against the muddy wall, pulling his legs close, chest heaving and arm blazing. Clamping his free hand over his mouth and nose, protesting against hyperventilation. Regulating every draw, just like Ezra showed him. Slow and steady.His arm, his arm- don’t forget the shot. He looked at the vine, and tried to pull out a length. It rustled, but tugged out. He hastily twirled it around his upper arm, pulling a stick into it and making sure it was immovable.

“The shed! Check the bloody shed!” That’d have to be Juno, right? No... Murdoch, I reckon? 

“Avery, we’re all trapped here,” snarled an angrier voice, a little too close. "Get out here and we'll all be happy." That’s definitely Gabriel.

Avery looked between his bleeding arm and the ledge above him. He let himself sink into the mud, trying to regulate his breathing. He couldn't see anyone, but he could well enough hear them. Silence, save for the squelch of mud and shuffle of gravel. 

"Over the-" SNAP! 

"Incredible marksman you, really!" Gabriel hissed in a stage-whisper, as the ring of the gun subsided. Annoyed protests rose quickly, but were rigidly shushed. Avery just kept trying to calm himself down, holding the gash in his arm firm. He looked around the trench for something, anything he could grab onto and pray it protected him. He scanned every rock, every little dip in the broken-down vine, and snatched up a feeble stick. What was he supposed to do? They’d see the bushes on his left rustling, and they were closing in on his right. Avery knew that much. And there’s no way his team was close by- they’d be waiting east. 

“Lepus, we need ya. Game’s pretty much rigged anyway! Drop it while yer ahead,” Murdoch groaned, mud squelching under his boots. Too close. Way too close. 

The trench only led the way they came; no help there. Avery tried scooting to his right nonetheless, as his head started to dizzy. His hair pulled along the sloughy wall, the mud only making his attempt riskier. His arm burned. It burned so bad. 

(Still being written. Check for updates, they're coming soon.)