As the sun rose the following morning, the four companions were strolling through the pleasant green woodland of the elven countryside. Beyond the edge of the forest, visible through the emerald leaves and smooth brown trunks, was a grassy field dotted with red and yellow flowers. Olga and Roxie were enthralled, having never seen a land so bright and vibrant. Admittedly it did not take much to impress them, given their only experience of the world was their backwater corner of Grinmolden.

The sky above was a perfect blue, with a few fluffy clouds to complete the look. The good weather ended abruptly at the Brunden River, still visible behind them. Dark clouds gathered in the south, ready to drench the unfortunate humans of Malhaven.

“The elves have it all figured out,” Olga said, observing the sharp contrast in the weather. “Using magic to change the weather to suit them, it's brilliant.”

“It's frightening,” Malcomn replied with a shudder. “Magic is a powerful and dangerous force, yet the elves, in their hubris, think nothing of using it to bend nature itself to their whims.”

“Why wouldn't they?” Olga wanted to know.

“It's unnatural. Such heedless flaunting of power can lead only to disaster.”

“So, you're saying that if you could adjust the weather to prevent floods, droughts, and famines, you wouldn't do it because that would be 'unnatural'?”

Malcomn's sigh was pure irritation.

“I didn't say that, you're straw-manning my argument!”

“OK Boomer,” Olga smiled cheekily.

“More importantly,” Malcomn grumbled, his inner peace severely off balanced, “where exactly are we going, Bogdon?”

A sly grin crossed the faun's face.

“It's quite simple, there's a cave hidden in the southern slopes of the mountains. Looks harmless enough, but the tunnel leads right through the mountains and all the way into the sewers beneath the capital city.”

“The sewers?” Olga grimaced. “Ew!”

“I thought you wanted to come along,” Malcomn was quick to remind her, “yet you're chickening out at every turn.”

“A dangerous adventure is one thing, but I'm not keen on close encounters with elven shit.”

“You can actually use it as a drug,” Bogdon said. “Elves are so loaded up on magic that a few sniffs of their shit will have you tripping inflated pig bladders. Trust me, my magic drug tolerance is sky high and even I get a kick out of it.”

“So this tunnel will take us straight into the elven capital?” Malcomn asked, still a tad suspicious.

“The real trouble will start once we're inside the city,” Bogdon replied with a frown. “Those elves are sniffier and hearier than any other race in the world, except maybe goblins.”

“If they have such keen smell, how do they not trip from their own shit?” Olga asked, altogether too curious about the hallucinogenic effects of elven excrement.

“It's nothing to them,” Bogdon explained. “From the moment they're born, they're completely surrounded by magic. They quickly become inured to its physical effects. Even magical drugs have no effect on them.”

He broke off suddenly and looked around, his ears perking up.

“Elves, coming this way!”

They head the distant sound of horses' hooves, turning back to see a group of elven riders galloping across the field, toward the forest that concealed them. Their multicolored uniforms, edged in gold, glittered in the sun. It was honestly hard to tell whether they were being pursued by soldiers or fashionistas (knowing elves, they were probably both). They saw the riders come to a stop, their leader dismounting and kneeling to inspect the ground.

“They've found our footprints!” Malcomn muttered.

“There must be somewhere to hide!” Roxie looked around in a panic.

“Oi, over 'ere!”

They looked down to see a grey rabbit squatting nearby, pointing to a large hole in the ground.

“Look, mates,” the rabbit's voice was urgent, “I know the scrape yer in. Get in me burrow and we can work out me compensation once yer all safe, right?”

“We can all fit in there?” Malcomn stared skeptically at the hole, barely large enough for a person to squeeze through.

The rabbit frowned. “Wotcha think I made it for? Now git inside 'fore I change me mind!”

“Guess we have no option,” Malcomn sighed. “Well, ladies first.”

“Oh, how chivalrous of you!” Olga snorted sarcastically, while Roxie got down on her hands and knees to crawl awkwardly into the tunnel. She disappeared into the darkness, but her voice called back a few seconds later. “It's actually very roomy down here!”

Olga glanced back towards the riders who were drawing ever closer. She sucked in a deep breath before kneeling to follow Roxie into the burrow. She was halfway in when her butt got stuck and she discovered that the entrance was not wide enough to accommodate her THICCness.

“That fucking rabbit!” she shrieked in rage. “You swore this bloody thing was big enough!”

Malcomn stepped forward and gave her a sharp push with his boot, popping her through to where the tunnel, thankfully, widened out. The tunnel led into a cramped room where Olga found Roxie huddled in a corner. As it was pitch black, Olga hit Roxie in the nose several times as she was waved her arms about in an attempt to find her. They were soon joined by Malcomn and Bogdon. The four of them huddled in the darkness as the sound of hoof beats grew closer and closer until they stopped just outside their hiding place.

“Good day to you, Mr. Rabbit,” they heard an elvish voice outside. “We're looking for some fugitives, three humans and a bipedal goat. Haven't seen anyone like that, by any chance?”

“Fugitives?” the rabbit replied, sounding authentically confused. “Me lords and ladies, I've only just woken. Yer mighty steeds shakin' the ground roused me from a right lovely dream and I came up to 'ave a look. If you say yer chasin' fugitives, I've no doubt they're about, but I certainly 'aven't seen 'em with me own two eyes.”

There was a pause before the elf asked suspiciously, “Is it possible they might be hiding in your own burrow? I do not mean to be rude, Mr. Rabbit, but protocol demands we search for intruders with the utmost thoroughness.”

The four fugitives collectively held their breath. They heard the rabbit chuckle.

“They'd certainly be desperate to pick me burrow as a hidin' spot, what with all the rabbit shit down there. But, leave no stone unturned, as me old man used to say. Yer free to go in and check, lords and ladies.”

There was a pause.

“Actually, I think you're right,” the elf agreed hurriedly. “Even fugitives would have to be truly desperate to hide in there. Good day, Mr. Rabbit.”

The elves swiftly departed.

“They're gone!” the rabbit whispered once the sound of the riders' steeds had died away. Olga grimaced as she emerged from the hole.

“Was it true what you were saying about the rabbit shit?”

The rabbit looked offended.

“What do you take me for! Am I to assume you folk leave yer shit lyin' around your livin' room when you have guests over, is that right?”

“We are grateful for your kindness, Sir Rabbit,” Malcomn said as he crawled out.

“It weren't kindness, mate, but good business,” the rabbit replied pointedly. Malcomn smiled and nodded.

“Name a price and I'll be happy to pay. Forgive me, I'm afraid I don't know what rabbits take as payment.”

The rabbit grinned. “Yer wizards, right? Do you 'ave a spell to make me... uh... 'carrot' bigger?” He gave Malcomn a wink. “Know what I mean?”

“Well, yes, um...” Malcomn stammered, taken off guard, “there is a temporary spell I know.”

“Perfect!” The rabbit dashed into his burrow and returned with a large carrot. It was a lovely orange shade while its size and shape could have taken first prize at any county fair.

“Can you make it about twice the size,” the rabbit asked, holding the vegetable out to Malcomn. “That way I can invite me neighbors over and it'll be a lovely meal.”

“Oh!” Malcomn was relieved. “That's easy!”

He placed his hand on the carrot and cried, “Vegetablum Enormous!” The carrot instantly grew to twice its original size.

“Bloody brilliant!” the rabbit said, his eyes shining with delight at the magnificent vegetable. Olga gave a snort of laughter, drawing a confused look from the rabbit.

“You meant an actual carrot!” she laughed. “I honestly thought you wanted us to make your dick bigger!”

“You didn't have to say it,” Roxie grumbled.

“Milady!” the rabbit exclaimed, deeply offended, “I'm ashamed you would even suggest such a thing. Mine is already a true magnum opus of rabbit genetics. It might not look much to you, but...”

Olga had many regrets as the rabbit proudly rambled on about his mighty endowment.