“Long ago, Frith made the world. He made all the stars too and the world is one of those stars. He made them by scattering his droppings over the sky and this is why the grass and the trees grow so thick on the world. Frith makes the brooks flow. Frith made all the animals and birds, but when he first made them they were all the same. The sparrow and the kestrel were both friends and they both ate seeds and flies. And the fox and the rabbit were friends and they both ate grass.”
The smaller of the two rabbits sat back on his haunches and listened through an accustomed expression of engaged indifference. He had listened to the older one on this subject many times and this particular subject of all animals once having been friends was nice. It also cropped up each time they were about to make the dash across the open grass, the shorter grass, that led to the really short oval of grass with the hole in it.
What the older rabbit was saying was fine and dandy; all animals were not made to kill and feast off each other. Try telling that to the unformed pelt of a rabbit now adorning the rough grass area in which they were sitting. The smaller rabbit had a sharp sense of smell, something that the larger rabbit relied upon for these morning excursions, and he could scent the decay of one of their own.
The morning was sharply crisp which meant that sounds would carry an awfully further. Foxes had good hearing and kestrels had ridiculously good sight.
“Remind me again, oh leader, why are we doing this, this passing of our pellets on the oval?”
“The men call it the Seventh and it is holy in the world of Frith. We pass our ‘Hraka’ to imitate the actions of Frith.”
He used the proper term which always annoyed the smaller of the two who did not receive a university education.
“So why do we pass Hraka on the oval grass?”
“Well, it pisses them off.”