Here comes Peter Cottontail

Hoppin' down the bunny trail.

Hippity hoppin'—

Pain! Stabbing pain! I lay on my side, all four feet kicking frantically as if trying to outrun the danger, the pain. They were not lucky today, at least not for me.

I blink twice rapidly and try to figure out what just happened. I saw a flash of silver and heard a high-pitched whistle, although now all I can hear is a roaring in my ears. Then came the pain in my neck. No, the pain started in my shoulder before spreading to my neck. My eye twitches about wildly before settling on the silver shaft that has skewered my shoulder. An arrow. It must have been deflected up into my shoulder after piercing my neck.

My vision narrows as the blood gushes out of my nearly-lifeless body and staining my gray fur. My breaths are labored and with each the pain blossoms anew. Even as my heart beats its last beat, I cannot help but think, Not everyone who dies in the arena is honored with a cannon shot.