Orpheus VII

After following the stream for several days, the rabbit finally found himself emerging from the lowland meadows. He felt safer in these hills; he had once lived in this region, years ago, and it was pleasingly unchanged. He made for the home of an old friend, humming as he followed his memory through the purple heather and clumps of thyme. Rounding the last bend, he arrived at the little dwelling, and tapped lightly on the hollow bark of an old tree stump. 


Moments later, he was comfortably installed on soft cushions of hay, with dishes of carrots and turnips laid out before him. The pints of plummy ale went down easily and the rabbit's cheeks took on a rosy hue as the tumbling conversation of long-parted friends gradually relaxed its pace.
Orpheus stretched and sighed. “Ah, dear friend, it really has been too long. But I feel there's something you're not telling me. How are you really?"
“Ah, well enough, I suppose. Yes, I suppose...”
“Marvin- I am not convinced.”
“Well, you remember how things were when you left. We didn't know it then, but I think that was the beginning of the end for us. They’ve been digging and building non-stop, devil-driven, ever since.”
“What do you mean? Things look just the same as –“
“Yes, yes, I know,” Marvin's voice was sharp and bitter. “That’s their favourite line of defense. Nobody can see the difference. Well, the earth knows, the Gods know, and it won’t be long before there’s nothing but hollow ground beneath our feet.”
“Building underground? But they can't possibly -” Orpheus stopped himself at the look on his friend's face. He suddenly noticed the whitening hairs around his nose, the thinning quills on his back. “Marvin... this is terrible.”
“Yes, it is. They’re greedy, greedy and blind. Dining rooms, bed lofts, entertainment rooms – it’s completely ruined our community. Nobody gathers outside to watch the stars anymore.”
Orpheus shook his head sadly. “I just can't believe it.”
Marvin looked at him silently for a long moment. Finally, he said, “I wish you had stayed. You might have had some influence. Maybe if you'd shown them your plans, made them see.”
Orpheus looked at him in disbelief. "My plans?"
"Yes, your plans. Your blueprints- your bloody blueprints!"
"My dear Hedgehog, you have lost your mind. Nobody here has ever shown the slightest interest in, or even tolerance for, my ideas. That's WHY I left."
"But we could have fought them, convinced them... We didn't stand a chance without an Architect on our side."
Orpheus pulled on his long ears and rubbed his eyes. "Marvin, look... I don't want to argue with you. I can't carry the blame of this."
With a bristle of quills, the hedgehog tossed the rest of his ale down his throat and wiped his mouth with a grunt. "I'm not blaming you, Orpheus. But we need an Architect."

..