It had been a long time since the Great Battle of Bork was fought, yet trouble was beginning to stir once again…
At last, Buckle, Belt and Loop descended down the hill while watching the small village of Bork fade into the distnace. It was time.
Early that morning a ragged owl had swept over bork and landed gracefully on Buckle’s back before dropping a tiny piece of parchment on the floor and swooping away agian. Buckle, Belt and Loop huddled round the piece of parchment with a terrified look written accross their faces. There were no wordes on the parchment, just a symbol. A dangerous sybol. A black infinity sign with a large red X was written on it, in – what looked like – berry juice. That only meant one thing… Mort (a bloodhound who battled Bork in late 17th century) was back and nobody was safe. They had to make it to Mort before Mort made it to them, it looked like he already had a head start though. There was a famous legend of where Mort lived, no knew it was true but it was all the information they had. Nobody even knew what Mort looked like.
Now, it’s all up to these three. Buckle, who was a small, beige rabbit with big, floppy ears and scruffy fur, held an ancient map in front of them. On the map there was a complicated route that would take them through the most dangerous parts of the island. Belt, a tall rabbit with jet-black fur, large feet and glistening amber eyes, lit a large lantern as they sun fell behind the mountain. Loop, a brainy, white rabbit, studied the map carefully. It would take them days to complete the journey. They had to cross the huge River Stone, climb Mount Rough, scramble through dense forests and pass… Freaky Fogs… The trail on the map came to an abrupt stop just before the Freaky Fogs (the most dreaded place which is feared by everyone on the island of Borstonn). The rabbits glanced at one another but didn’t say anything.
Clutching the ancient map, they continued their journey. Loop trailed behind them, searching for anything that could be used for self-defence. Clinging in a tight bundle, they crossed the rope bridge that took them from one side of the River stone to the other. The travelling was long and painful and in no time at all their stomachs were rumbling and their eyes were drooping. Everyone was freezing and wishing that they were back in Bork, huddling round a fire and eating fresh stew. As they came into a forest Belt colapsed into a large pile of leaves and begged them to rest here. It did not take much begging.
For dinner they ate berries off a nearby bush and plucked other fruits from trees. Loop handed out sausages and slices of bread as Buckle lit a fire in the center of a circle of tree stumps. After an eventful day, they were all exhausted so as soon as they had eaten, they fell right asleep.
As Buckle drifted in and out of sleep, his mind swirled with thoughts, questions and dreams. What if they never found Mort? What is he was already at Bork and attacking his home? A tear slid out the corner of his eye as, once again, he fell asleep.
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