Bonnie and SophieAbridged.

Chapter 3 Herac Hare

During the long hard slog to Black Clough Woods, wild berries and spring water feed their tums. Earlier, they had taken a little nap, only to be awakened by a frond eating freckled deer, who nibbled Sophie's ear by mistake. They both chuckle! Also Sophie looks slightly worried the way she carries that low slung head, about where this adventure is taking them, so Bonnie explains: 'first, we have to find the wisest animals in the world,' she barks, 'I have their names on a list under my chin; second, we have to find the magic collar.' Now that she knows, Soph takes three deep breaths and quivers with new confidence. As she bounces, those black patch eyes sparkle and silvery sounds of water from the River Etherow smooth her lips; so falling head over heels, they race downhill together, soon reaching the voiceless wood.

'We better search for a dry place to camp,' Bonnie pants. Hooh! Hooh! With oak and elder, elm and pine trees all around they decide to build a den, from branches and leaves. Long pointed pine needles, glued together in twos, threes or fives prick into their dark lips, but they work fast. Within a short time however, a rising swarm of brown buzzing flies attract towards them...bzzzzzz...and how these little creatures can bite, enough to send you crazy. When a band of flies attacks Bon, Sophie chases with a large branch spray. Bonnie helps Sope the same way. Perhaps smoke can drive these pesky flies away, but the two pals do not smoke. So at last, creeping inside and lying close to one another, they snuggle into their leafy bed and peeping through high leaves can just make out a crescent moon hanging dimly. Tired eyelids close.

Morning calls them softly from their sleep. A white mist wreathes upward on its lonely way. While next to the branched den, rather too close for comfort, Sophie miraculously finds a small fire sparking away within a ring of blackened grey stones. In a flash she lays a pan and soon sniffs out two healthy duck eggs, which together with a hunk of dry bread promise to become a sizzling breakfast. 'I hope nothing will ever change,' she barks, whining over the fire. 'What! ... ... What foolish person said that! Why are you using my fire? My fire,' the Jack hare screeches, spitting local greenery. Herac Hare crouches close, cocks a lissom ear; Sophie drops pan and egg in the flickering fire at his fright and flame coloured coat, his red-hot temper and combustible smell. Oh! What a messy breakfast.

'Everything is continually changing, you see you're wrong, nothing remains the same, you see you're wrong,' the Jack hare continues, staring and glaring, you know how they do. 'Rubbish, what about my dog chocs, they don't change, they always taste the same to me.' Bonnie blurts out angrily. 'No...No, No, No,' Herac screams, eyes blazing like two bright marbles of glass, 'if you eat five hundred chocs, they'll taste sickly, very sickly indeed. And....and, and, and,' Herac continues , stamping ardently, 'when you bathe your woolly paws in the river, yes, any river, that same water never touches you twice does it?' 'I never thought of it like that,' Bonnie mutters.

Jumping up and down feverishly, Herac Hare appears to be having a heart attack, or perhaps a caloric attack. Then fanning the flames with his leaping flashing body, Herac causes the wooden den to suddenly catch fire; down it burns, quickly consuming itself. Then, with a dance and a somersault he scutters away. 'Is that supposed to be one of the wise animals, Sophie laughs to herself, tugging at Bonnie's black velvet ear.