This snippet in the unraveling tail of Leslie focuses on Gregory. That most ignominious of polymaths. Written for Trifecta: Week Ninety Six challenge. This weeks word is animal third definition: a human being considered chiefly as physical or nonrational; also: this nature. To read more of Leslie’s tails you can jump down the rabbit hole here: https://anecdotelove.wordpress.com/category/gray/.
“We’re going to join the warren.” Ed had smiled under his bushy eyebrows and rotting tophat. “There’s nothing left for us to do here” added Mel in her soft velvet voice, smoothing her skirt. Their lined faces had looked at him expectantly. That was at least a century ago.
Gregory twitched his nose and sipped tea from a bone china heirloom patterned in delicate blue roses. Uncle Ed and Aunt Mel were boxing on the front moor as they did every morning at nine. Their hind legs carried them improbably high, long ears standing straight up, brown fur matting from the drizzle. It looked to Gregory like Mel was winning.
They were the only hares who came to the tower now. Gregory pondered if the other hares disliked him or if they had died. The warren and tower had numbered hundreds of family at its height. Now it was Ed, Mel, and Gregory. Two brown hares and a possible human.
The animal in him felt trapped.
He pushed the creaking front door open and marched to the hares. “I have things left to do here” he stated firmly, waving the heirloom around. “Things”. The hares looked at him, heads tilted.
“You know perfectly fine well what things.” Gregory’s voice rose. “Leslie that’s what. That mess. I can’t leave that mess.” It looked to Gregory like Ed the hare raised a bushy eyebrow.
“I don’t care!” shouted Gregory flinging the heirloom at the moor where it smashed into delicate blue roses. He slammed the front door. Ed and Mel were not there the next morning at nine.