The Hunter with the Beating Heart of a Rabbit
In the village of Ugwuta, there lived a hunter named Obinna, feared by animals and admired by men. His arrows never missed. His traps never failed. He believed the forest was made only to be conquered, and the creatures within it were nothing more than moving targets.One evening, while the sun bled red into the trees, Obinna followed a strange rabbit deep into the forbidden part of the forest—the land elders warned no hunter to enter. The rabbit was unusually white, its eyes glowing like morning dew. Each time Obinna aimed his arrow, the rabbit paused and looked back, as if inviting him closer.
“Tonight, you will feed my family,” Obinna muttered.
The forest grew silent.
As he released his arrow, the ground split with a thunderous crack. Wind howled, trees bent low, and the world spun like a broken drum. Obinna screamed—but no sound came out.When the noise faded, Obinna opened his eyes.He was small.Very small.His hands were gone. In their place were soft paws. His strong legs were now thin and trembling. When he tried to shout, a frightened squeak escaped his mouth.He was a rabbit.Panic seized him as memories flooded back—his hunts, the blood, the trophies hanging in his hut. He tried to stand tall, to walk like a man, but his body only hopped. His heart raced wildly, beating like it would burst from his chest.Then he heard footsteps.Hunters.His own friends.Obinna ran.For the first time in his life, he felt fear—not the thrill of the chase, but the terror of being hunted. Thorns tore at his fur. Hawks circled above. Every sound felt like death approaching.He hid beneath a fallen log, shaking, and there he met the old white rabbit again. It sat calmly, untouched by fear.
“You hunted without listening,” the rabbit spoke, its voice echoing inside Obinna’s mind. “Now you will learn what it means to live as the hunted.”
Days turned into weeks. Obinna learned hunger, cold, and the cruelty of traps. He watched rabbits mourn their lost kin. He learned that the forest was not silent—it cried.One dawn, as Obinna lay weak near the riverbank, he felt warmth surround him. The forest whispered again.When he woke, he was human.But changed.Obinna returned to Ugwuta without his bow, without his traps. He became a storyteller, warning children and hunters alike that the forest remembers everything.
And deep in the bushes at dawn, a white rabbit still watches—making sure the lesson is never forgotten.
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