What a surprise it was that the path, previously so deserted, was now swarming with flying insects.
Tucking itself among the undergrowth, it sat and watched them for several hours.
Occasionally they would land so very close, resting their delicate wings, that it would be so easy to reach out and touch them.
Each one was completely unaware of being watched, busily going about their own business.
The longer it watched, the more the temptation grew,
Until it made up its mind: it was going to catch one.
Setting their sights on one of the insects, they leapt, paws stretched. But they stopped short, paws inches apart. Something felt off: that jump was too easy; Their back legs had been more powerful at taking off, and now, looking closer, their front paws were tiny and… their claws! Their claws wouldn’t extend like they used to. Or retract. Or flex at all!
Angry, they instinctively went to flick their tail in frustration but felt no movement. They turned. Their tail, their magnificent fluffy tail, was gone, replaced by just a small nub. Useless.
Now very distressed, they racked their tiny brain. The hare! The hare with its two heads and short tail! No doubt it was behind this – it had tricked them!
Abandoning their previous hunt, the ‘rabbit’ turned back and went off in pursuit of the hare.
