The Wabbit was missing so when radio contact failed, Lapinette armed herself to the teeth. The clearing looked clear and she paused by a big tree and listened. She heard a dull thud in the distance. Twigs cracked and snow crunched. She looked up through the branches. The sky looked like shards of breaking ice and she shivered as a wind chilled her fur. Lapinette had always respected trees. With trees you never knew and the branches of the big tree were swaying much too close. "Where on earth is the Wabbit?" murmured Lapinette. "Which one is he?" said a voice that came with a wind from the tree. Lapinette saw no harm in speaking. "The brown one." "There are two brown ones," said the voice. Lapinette's breath froze in the icy air. "How many altogether?" The voice seemed friendly. "Four, not counting you." Lapinette had an idea. "How many following?" The big tree swayed and the wind gusted sharp and cold. "Two, but one of them is a tracker." Lapinette slipped the safety catch on her automatic then glanced behind her - but there was nothing. She prodded the snow with a foot. "How far?" she thought. "Closer than you think," said the voice. A piece of tree bark dropped. Lapinette spotted a track in the snow that wound past the tree and over a knoll. "Thanks," she whispered." "Why are we whispering?" asked the voice ...
