Listen

A dense forest matches the contours of a remote mountain, pines perched precariously in thin sloping soil. Where the trees stand back to reveal the weak sunlight, snow settles in drifts thicker than those found beneath clustered branches.

Carmita stomps ponderously through the compacted white carpet, stopping in one of those rare sun-blessed clearings. This would do. She tramples down a section of snow and pulls off her backpack, from which she extracts a large tent. Within minutes her shelter is set up, and she next installs a little wood burner, the chimney of which is pushed through a hole in the tent.

Before night falls Carmita seeks out wood for her fire. She uses a small knife to whittle away damp outer layers and reveals the relatively dry interior. Back in the tent Carmita zips herself away from the world and sets out her woodpile. Kindling and a firelighter are pushed into the small woodburner, a flame conjured from a flint. As the temperature rises inside, steam from the outside skin of the tent mingles with smoke from the chimney. Beneath a clear moon the wispy column reaches high and clearly marks the location of the only human for many miles around.

The fire and confined space result in an almost unbearable heat inside. Carmita ties back the tent entrance and begins to cook a meal on the metal stove. The snap of burning wood matches the clack of freezing branches. From the forest a pure white rabbit emerges, his little blue waistcoat and smart brown bowler hat the only colour in this monochrome landscape.

“Good evening,” the rabbit says. Carmita does not reply. “My name is Egilona.”

Still Carmita says nothing. These mountains are familiar to her, and she has often wondered what creatures share them with her. She was not, however, expecting talking rabbits. Once her eyes adjust to the dark beyond the firelight she notices Egilona’s attire.

“I think I’ve seen you around here before,” the rabbit continues. “Are you from nearby?”
“Umm, no, I’m originally from Córdoba, in the north,” Carmita replied, not quite believing that she was having a conversation with this animal.
“Oh I have a cousin from there.”

There was a pause. Snow began to patter on the tent, something howled in the night. Egilona shivered.

“Would…would you like to come in?” Carmita said.
“Yes please,” the rabbit replied.

He removes his hat before stepping into the warm tent. Carmita finds him a scarf to sit on and she asks if he would like anything to eat.

“What are you cooking?” Egilona enquired.
“Beef stew, using some mushrooms I found today.”
“Ah, well I’m a fairly committed vegetarian, but thank you for the offer.”
“I still have a carrot, as well as some woodsorrel I foraged yesterday.”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”

Carmita began to assemble the two meals, Egilona’s being much faster to prepare. As the rabbit chomped his food the human continued to cook.

“Forgive me for asking, but I’ve never met a talking rabbit before. Have you always spoken, erm, human languages?”
“Oh yes, all of my warren does.”
“But…how?”
“I’m not entirely certain, but legend has it that, centuries ago, a young soldier came to live in these woods. Over time he grew lonely but befriended some of my ancestors, who showed him where to find food in return for protection. Many generations of rabbit came and went, each slowly improving on their vocabulary thanks to the soldier who lived here for the remaining 50 years of his life.”
“Your ancestors learned a human language in 50 years?”
“Oh no, even after all that time they only knew the basics and could barely pronounce the words. It took almost one hundred generations before we were able to speak as eloquently as this.”

By now the pan in which Carmita had added the stew ingredients had begun to bubble. She stirred the ingredients then replaced the lid. Outside the temperature continued to fall. Inside the tent was a bubble of warmth, cosy fabrics, and delicious smells.

Carmita was an experienced hiker. She spent most of her free time exploring the foothills, forests, and mountain slopes of Argentina and Chile. Few situations fazed her, and sitting in this comfortable little world in such an inhospitable environment so far from human habitation made the fact that she was talking with a rabbit seem…well, not normal, but certainly plausible.

“Where did you get the hat from? And the waistcoat?”
“Someone in the warren made them. Not a particularly easy task, as you can imagine, and finding the materials often necessitates dangerous journeys into human territory.”
“So why do it?”
“Because ours is a sophisticated tribe. We live in a wild environment, it’s important to stand out amongst the primitive.”
“Even with predators around?”
“Yes, well, the blue does make it rather a challenge to blend in.”

Egilona pricked his ears up. He poked his head out of the tent and sniffed the air. Carmita watched him while she lifted the lid and stirred her stew. Nearly ready. She continued stirring unnecessarily, unable to face the rabbit and confront the impossible.

“A blizzard is coming. Will you be safe here?” Egilona asked.
“Yes, thank you. I checked the weather before I left and came prepared.”
“Checked the weather? Ah yes, your clever technology. Well thank you for inviting me in and for the meal, it was lovely meeting you.”
“Before you go, I have something I’d like to ask.” Carmita finally stopped stirring and turned to face the rabbit. “Why did you come and visit me tonight?”

Apart from the sound of wood being snapped at by fire, and a thickening stew simmering in a pot, no other sound was heard in the tent for several seconds. Egilona picked up his hat and fiddled with it in his paws. Finally his hazel eyes looked up at his host.

“You listen,” was all he said.
“Listen?”
“Yes. We noticed how often you visit our woods, how you treat it with respect and reverence. More than that, though, is how you often just pause and listen. So few of your kind take the time to listen to the world. We rabbits spend most of our time listening, discerning every tiny sound. I knew that you would be safe to approach, and that you would not be afraid of a talking rabbit.”
“I just enjoy walking here.”
“Yes, and you seem to have this sense of awe and acceptance of our magical home.”
“Thank you, Egilona, I am honoured to be able to visit.”
“You will always be most welcome.”

Egilona placed his brown hat between his ears, then hopped away, leaving behind little pawprints in the snow. Moments later a gust of wind swished through the trees, dislodging snow from the branches. Carmita shrunk back into the tent and listened to the thud of the first heavy snowflakes against thin walls.