"Waaahahaha!! You should have seen it! Twenty... no THIRTY wolves! Each of them DECKED out in hardshine armor! With swords the size of TREES! Oh man, those things could cleave a boulder in half! So anyways... anyways, there I am. This one river in the foothills marks their territory, right? Cold creek, but freshest water you'll find this side of the desert... and they're just CAMPED THERE!"

The hare cackled and slaps his forehead, as if it's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

"Anyways... try to be all 'gentleman-like' and say hello. Well, you know how doggos are... er, present company excluded, of course... very uh, territorial. Start threatening me with their hardshine swords and thunder wands. Which like... really? Seems a bit of an overreaction if you ask me!"

"Well..." It seemed like this mad jackrabbit was doing some trespassing. Before you could explain that to him, however, he's already well into the next act of his story.

"So I'm not too worried. I figure I can just skedaddle, maybe find a spot further up the creek an' wet my whistle. Well, ONE of those maniacs decides he doesn't like hares. An' he makes himself known about. Plain rude, if ya ask me, but the absolute MUTT has already gone and decided that I'm gonna look good filled with thunder wand pellets! Now, they make an AWFUL lot of noise, their thunder wands. This was a big one, too! Maybe a rod... oh! I'mma call 'em lightning rods!

Anyways, see, thing is... hares are reeeal sensitive to stuff. Tippity-taps on the ground. Atmospheric changes. Sound. Guy had JUST squeezed the trigger and BOOM! Down goes his Captain. See, I'd been parlaying with 'em, and just do a quick steppy-hop to the side. Dunno if you've ever seen what a thunder wand does to a guy, but I'm just gonna say the ol' captain became a holey man that day!"

He cackles and falls onto his back, rolling around on the pavers. It was obvious the desert sun had long ago fried his sanity.

"Get it? Hole-y? Holy man? Aww, yer no fun!"
The hare chuffs and fluffs up his dewlap, reclining against the brick wall and folding his hands behind his head. "So anyways. All forty wolves in the camp have gone absolutely FERAL, what! Teeth gnashing, hardshine blades aimed everywhere. Some of 'em even know how to swing those things around, but by an' large, they're just in a frenzy. Easiest thing in the world ter dance around 'em! It was a BLAST! Oh man, I think every single thunder wand they leveled at me took out one of their own guys! Ha-HAAAA! Absolutely covered in hardshine armor, too. Heavy stuff, makes you REAL slow an' easy to hit, right? Knock one of those puppers down an' you got about five minutes before any one of 'em is back on their feet! Bad vision, when they got their helmits down, too. So there I am, dancin' with every lad in the camp, kickin' up a MIGHTY dust storm the whole time...."

He leans over to a haggardly stoat sitting besides him, loudly whispering, "...that's the trick, see? Means I'm already winnin'...."
"...And they don't even realize it! Oh you oughta have SEEN the look on their snouts as I start zappin' between the dust particles! Hare, there, I'm EVERYWHERE! Had them fighting shadows, wot-wot! Ohhh, it was great! One for the storybooks, for sure! Can't wait to get back to my tribe an' tell 'em how badly I whupped a whole pack'a wolves!! Hahahhaa!"

The hollow-eyed stoat raised his bedraggled snout, glaring warily at the garrulous hopper. "So... if'n yer so good... why-come yer locked in here? Wit' us?"

You and the three other poor unfortunate souls jammed in this tiny stone prison give a hearty laugh at that piercing counterpoint. Sirocco chuffs and looks askance. "Well... ONE of 'em got a good clock on me. Bound to happen, that's just statistics."

He sighs and hops to his feet, leaving behind the manacles that seemed to have been shackling him tight just a moment ago! Everyone's eyes go wide. Could he... have done that the whole time?!

"Besides... ain't the first time I've been in the ol' doghouse, y'know? They gotta feed and shelter you. It's like... their doggy code, or something, and I was STARVED! Anywho..."

His footpaws kick at the floor, sending a cloud of grey dust through the bars of their jail cell. Only a moment later, the gangly rabbit somehow materializes on the other side. He whistles up a merry tune, completely oblivious to the awed stares of his former cellmates, while rummaging through a nearby evidence chest. "Ah! Here it is! Wouldn't do me any good to get home without this." He holds up a fascinating artifact - a gnarled wooden spear, the terminus of which appeared to be a glowing crystalline blade.

"Ohh, lookit that! Piece of hardshine armor just my size! Think I'll take this as a memento..." he muses to himself, stuffing a pilfered metal shoulder pauldron in his recovered inventory. "Ah! But it has been a WONDER spendin' the night with you lads! Didn't mean ter talk yer ears off. Forget other critters don't got wicks quite as long as us hares. In any case, I do bid thee audieu! Hahahah!"

He whacks the door of the jail cell with the butt of his spear, then bows respectfully before vanishing into thin air. The whole crowd of prisoners watch while the cloud of dust settles and the door of their cell slowly creaks to an open.

---

Mad as a march hare? Nah, not mad. Just TERRIBLY disappointed! XD

I don't get nearly enough art of my hare being his zany, reckless self! His fighting style might best be described as 'a living dust devil' - always spinning, grinning, dancing, and swinging that weapon carelessly, he relies on his natural speed and agility to avoid the consequences of his lunatic fighting style .

Oh yeah, and he's got short-range teleportation power. THAT helps a bit too! ^^;

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Art by AriCat98