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The Purging of the Great Thorns

The sun was not merely a ball of burning gas to the folk of the Sandleford Warren; it was Frith, the Great Eye, the golden source of all life and the witness to every twitch of a whisker. But on this day, the air felt heavy, tasting of ozone and the cold, sharp scent of worked iron. Fiver, the small, twitching seer of the rabbits, sat atop the Honeycomb, his ears flat against his back. "It’s coming, Hazel", he whispered, his voice trembling like a leaf in a gale. "A great white light. Not the light of Frith that warms the fur, but a light that eats the world. Man has grown too clever. He has stolen the fire from the center of the earth and pointed it at the sky". Hazel looked toward the horizon. He couldn’t see the, "Great Thorns"—the long, silver cylinders Man had hidden in the ground—but he felt the vibration in his paws. The world of men was screaming. They had built machines that could turn the grass to ash and the rivers to steam. They were ready ...
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Cherry Blossoms and the White Duvet


The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, their delicate pink petals falling gently to the ground with every breath of wind. The princess waited patiently beneath their boughs, her long hair cascading over her shoulders and blending seamlessly with the blossoms. She had been waiting for hours, hoping for a glimpse of her love, the prince who had promised to meet her here.



She remembered the first time he had brought her to this spot, under the cherry blossom trees. It had been a cool evening, and they had sat side by side on a bench, watching as the petals fell like snow around them. He had whispered sweet words into her ear, and she had believed that they would always be together.



But now, as she waited and the petals continued to fall, she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping into her heart. The prince had been gone for weeks, called away on important business by his father, the king. He had promised to return to her as soon as he could, but each passing day only added to her uncertainty and worry.



Meanwhile, in a room filled with sunlight, a young woman with fiery red hair lay on her white duvet, staring up at the ceiling. She had been waiting for what felt like an eternity, her heart heavy with longing and disappointment. Her lover, a handsome musician, had left her behind without explanation, and she was left to wonder if he had ever really loved her at all.






She had been so sure of their love, so confident that they would overcome any obstacle together. But now, as she lay alone in the quiet room, she couldn't help but feel foolish and naive. She had given him her heart, and he had left it shattered in his wake.





Both women waited in their own way, beneath their own cherry blossom trees, for the men who held their hearts. But as the petals continued to fall and the hours passed, they couldn't help but wonder if they were waiting in vain.

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