Bunny is saved and the glorious return of Svenbärd

I believe I must have passed out from all the frantic jumping. This, I am certain, allowed the collective mind of the bunny farm to invade the core of my being even quicker. After a while I came to, fully assimilated and incapable of formulating any meaningful thought of my own. No longer troubled by the possibility of being recognized by others, I was powerless to even identify myself. I hopped about languidly, sniveled and indulged in eating. The presented fare was mute and uninspiring to the senses, but addictive by the use of devilish additives and chemical contrivances. Once again a rabbit in my own salival headlights. All this of course I infer from logic and the recollection of others, because I posses no direct memory of the time. It’s quite possible that I remained in this vegetative state for a month, perhaps more. A year, or perhaps just an hour. All concept of time had been annulled. After an unspecified length of time I was grabbed from the barn among a batch of other rabbits (presumably to be slaughtered and processed). About eight of us waited in a cardboard box in the courtyard next to a blue van, ready to be shipped off to certain death. Oblivious to my fate I was sure to perish had not Svenbärd hovered overhead, vigilant and unexpected. At great peril to himself he dove down into the rescue. Now, as birds go fulmars are quite large but even with his beak tweaked tightly on my ears and flapping at full throttle he was unable to put any distance between us and the ground. I had gotten too heavy from all the fatty fodder. After giving the matter some thought, for he is a profound thinker, Svenbärd skipped down from his perch on the box and started pecking away at one of the brown flanks of my diminutive rectangular prison and with painful effort he managed to fashion a gateway to freedom. Because I was unaware of what was going on, still in thrall to the collective lagamorphic mind power, he saw himself forced to drag me across the yard, goad me, pecking me on the head, on and into a small bosk where I began slowly to recapture my senses. “Where the hell am I?” I murmured, using a tired back paw to scratch myself behind the ears. “I believe you were close to becoming part of someone’s fur coat,” said Svenbärd matter-of-factly, arranging a few of his dorsal guiding feathers. “You um,… ok?” “I guess. I’ve a bit of weird headache though.” “Oh, yes, sorry about that.”