As the butterflies streamed across the meadow, Tisp listened the gentle breeze soaring smoothly across the sky. Today was a new day. Tisp began to relax. He thought he had heard a tractor but he
knew he was just imaging it. The meeting with the hounds had left Tisp more alert.
As he lay there in the field he wondered whether the birds knew a storm was coming, Tisp was aware merely due to a dark grey cloud was hovering far into the horizon and the occasional rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. Yet apart from the approaching storm he lay in the field unperturbed.
Tisp could tell that this was no ordinary storm however. There was certain humidity in the air around him that suggested this storm was differently put together. Tisp was not alarmed by the fact that a storm was coming; oh no Tisp knew that worrying about storms was silly. The thing that worried him the most was that he had overheard the farmer say twister and that they had better be watchful.
Then he felt the temperature drop dramatically. He sat up every trace of sleepiness, gone ears poised, listening intensely for any sound. Then he smelt sulphur in the air and it was there. A large, black funnel swirling noiselessly above the cornfields. A whirlwind. Tisp turned around and ran for his life, the tornado following effortlessly behind him.
He began to think fast. The warren closest to him was in the next field but it was not very deep only about two metres into the ground. Tisps deepest burrow was twelve metres deep but that was two whole fields away. Tisp had to make a split second decision. He picked up speed and flew through the fields until there was the beginning of his twelve-metre tunnel!
He dived down it frantically, and yes he had made it. After that Tisp spent the whole day in bed resting. The episode of the whirlwind had left Tisp very weak. Not even a tornado could stop Tisp though and soon as he felt strong enough he went outside for a small stroll in what remained of the field. Many of the corn plants where destroyed but what was worse is this: as Tisp wandered through the corn remains he heard groans. When he saw it he could not believe. A rabbit not much younger than he was lying there, its left foot had a scratch on the paw. As Tisp approached he felt pity of the poor animal and so begin to lick clean the injury’s he had sustained. When he was finished the rabbit tried to stand and succeeded and so begin to walk to a nearby burrow, which was obviously his home. By the end of his journey, he was looking as perky as even Tisp himself.
Tisp himself went home and as the dark of night begin to settle, he lay down on his warm, comfortable bed and had a well-deserved sleep.
End of Chapter 3
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