Underground soil tunnel with roots, chalk grit and an earthworm; golden light breaking in from above.

A field guide

Know them in the dark

Underground, you don’t know a rabbit by her face. You know her by the rhythm of her feet, the weight of her thump, the scent she leaves.

The band are painted here as you would meet them underground: in a tunnel mouth against the light, the shape first and the face half in shadow. Press Listen for a gait or a theme. With Sound on you hear it; with Sound off, the page shows the rhythm and says what you would hear.

Part One · Bramble Warren

The Bramble band

Thirty rabbits lived under the hawthorn. These are the ones you come to know first.

Fern
Bracken
Nettle
Thistle
Clover
Elder Moss
Sedge
Sorrel

Fern

The morning scout

You’d know her by
Her thump. This was a single measured strike.

That’s not brave. That’s trained.

Her footfall, written out: one … one … one … one, measured and even.
Bracken

Fern’s brother

You’d know him by
His noise. Bracken’s chamber was easy to identify even in near-darkness: it was the one that generated noise.

Fur
Brown, and warm

Stories are how we remember where to go.

His footfall, written out: thud … thud … thud, broad and heavy.
Nettle

The mapmaker

You’d know him by
His hop. When he hopped, his gait was asymmetric ⁠— a distinctive rhythm that Fern could identify from two tunnels away.

I choose to take that as a compliment to my camouflage.

His hop, written out: left-right … left-right … left-right, uneven, in pairs.
Thistle

The storyteller

You’d know her by
Her voice. her voice ⁠— when she used it ⁠— carried a weight that had nothing to do with volume

Fur
Grey, with white at the muzzle and the base of the ears

Before the metal roads. Before the lights that never go out.
Clover

The first to startle

You’d know her by
Her alarm. rabbits whose quick terror sounded alarms that the calmer missed

Fur
Pale cream

I know it’s a cloud.

Her alarm, written out: thump-thump-thump, three hard and fast.
Elder Moss

Chief of Bramble Warren

You’d know him by
His greeting, every morning. Safe morning?

Fur
Grey as old moss: it gave him his name

Fear is a predator we carry inside us, and it kills more rabbits than foxes ever have.
Sedge

One of the warren’s elders

You’d know her by
Her voice, a little out of breath.

How far is west, exactly?
Sorrel

A yearling

You’d know her by
Her voice. A yearling’s voice, small and thin with fear

What do they want?

Part Two · The road west

On the road

There’s a whole world of things that want to eat us past that wall.
Fern, in Chapter 3

Over the meadow

The red kite

A red kite, riding the afternoon air.
A ploughed field

The fox

Foxes were patient. Foxes had nothing but time.
A housing estate

The hutch rabbits

Told that the band lives outside:

That sounds terrible.
A farm

The barn cat

Don’t care. Don’t touch the hay bale. Don’t look at me. Don’t exist loudly.
A farm

The hens

They’re like big mice with big ears!
A farm

Gerald

A sheepdog, and very helpful

COME ON THEN! TO THE GATE!

Part Three · The chalk hill

At Briar Hill

The hill from Thistle’s story is real. Its tunnels glow, and its ruler has been expecting them.

General Thorn

The ruler of Briar Hill

You’d know him by: His size, and a scar across his left eye. Thorn was large in the way that geology was large.
Fur: His fur was dark, nearly black, with grey streaking his muzzle.

He did not loom. He welcomed.