Dling, the Arctic Hare, drifted on his iceberg for days and days. It was always light.



“You’re a funny bunny. A funny bunny! Don’t be scared, funny bunny. I’m your friend.. My name’s Maggie. What’s yours?”
“What you got there?” A scratchy squeaky voice asked behind her.
“It’s a bunny! A funny bunny.”
“Get him in here.”
“He’s scared.” She turned back to Dling. “Aren’t you?”
“It’s okay, funny bunny. You can come join us when you like. You can have some nice warm willow soup.”
Dling didn’t move. He didn’t even like willow soup. Maggie’s big face vanished. But Dling could still hear her whisper. “He’s scared.”
“Of course he’s scared, Margaret. He’s a rabbit. He knows we’re going to eat him.”
“Shh. You have to be quiet, Abraham.”
“I am being quiet.”
Dling backed straight slowly away and then realized he was trapped. 
