Long shadows crept through the undergrowth, clawing with icy talons at Dock's fur. A shudder passed down his spine, and he shook himself as though it would help to dispel his uneasiness. Every noise, every single little sound spooked him; at this hour, any sort of elil could be crawling around. Foxes, hawks and even loose dogs would love to make a meal of a young, lone buck. His only thoughts were laced with worry, and he silently begged that his visitors would arrive soon.

     It seemed to take an age before he spotted a thin, rugged shape weave through the brush. He got to his feet and stared the figure down before it came into full view. He made it out to be a doe, scrawny and scarred up, with a look of displeasure planted firmly upon her wizened face. She made her way over to Dock, eyeing him up, before sitting down and curling her lips in a snarl. “I was told that the rabbit who would be meeting us was a warrior, a fighter with great ambition, not a foolish kit.”

     Before Dock could retort, another shape leaped through the bushes. This one was considerably larger than the doe, and while he looked far tidier, Dock could tell that he'd also seen his fair share of conflict. He lowered his gaze as the older buck came striding through, muttering something to the doe that caused her to grimace and step back. The younger rabbit looked up, to see a single eye glinting at him in the dark. The other was closed, forced shut by a cruel scar that ran from beneath the buck's nose to the base of his ear.

     “You are Dock, yes?” The buck's voice was rough and gravelly, and tore through Dock's courage.

     “I am, sir. I understand that your name is Monkshood?”

     “Yes, it is.” Monkshood gestured to the older doe with a hint of disgust. “This is Marzel. Don't be fooled by her fur, or her scars. She's one of the best fighters I know, born and bred in Darkhaven, before she was driven out. Me and my band of warriors found her out on her own, and took her in, cleaned her up – well, as best we could – and made sure that she put her talents to good use. We'll be your escorts for tonight.”

     Then, Monkshood leaned in closer and narrowed his eyes. “If what you proposed actually works, then I swear to you, my people are yours.”

     Dock glanced at Marzel, who nodded at him. He then turned back to Monkshood, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Then let's not waste any time.”

     He led them through the undergrowth, following the directions the cultists had given to him. He'd been waiting so long for this moment, preparing as best he could. He'd listened to all of Dandelion's stories, gone on journeys to the small cultist warrens that could help him with his cause. They had provided everything he needed to know in order for his plan to turn out well.

     It didn't take long for him to find the place the cultists had spoken of, a huge, gaping hole in the ground surrounded by mushrooms and other fungi, and decorated with flower-heads that lay strewn about. Marzel gazed down in wonder, but quickly turned away. “This place reeks of death. I would rather not go in.”

     Dock narrowed his eyes. “That's quite all right. You can stay here and guard the burrow. Make sure that no elil sneaks up on us.”

     Marzel's eyes widened, then narrowed as she sighed. “Fine. But if the plan doesn't work, then I am no longer yours to command.”

     Monkshood said nothing, though Dock could tell that he seconded the doe's words. Instead of lingering on the topic, Dock nudged the other buck and headed down the burrow, fear tugging at every fibre of his being. Wispy cobwebs hung from every nook and cranny, seeming to reach out for him as he neared the main chamber. His shadow danced as though it was another rabbit entirely, and Dock suppressed a shudder as he saw all manner of strange insects scurry along the walls of the run.

     At the end of the run, a veil of spiders' webs dangled from the ceiling, and Monkshood paused to brush them aside before Dock hesitantly stepped through. The main chamber was pitch-black and cold as ice – he could only just see his breath escape him like a cloud. He turned back to Monkshood, who pushed past him with far more enthusiasm than Dock could ever muster. The older buck glanced around the chamber for a heartbeat, then signalled to Dock to come forward. The sight before him nearly made him retch.

     A pile of stones stood in the centre, a Shape by the looks of it. It was a Shrine, a place of offering to the dark Sentinels that served the will of the Black Rabbit. Only the Cultists knew of them; it had been a great price to pay for the knowledge. A skull stood at the base of the Shrine, surrounded by all manner of strange plants, withered by time and darkness. Dock gulped down his nerves before shouldering past Monkshood and standing directly in front of the Shrine. The Cultists had told him to place his offering at the base of the Shrine and touch his nose to the skull, which was exactly what he did. He didn't want to set a paw out of line, especially when the consequences were unimaginable.

     He felt the rough surface of the skull at the tip of his nose, and then he felt his veins run cold, seizing up and retching, bile rising in his throat from the awful tastes and smells. Death clung to the air, and he leaped back.

     He almost wished he didn't.

     Standing before him, as though out of a nightmare, was a rabbit that looked to be composed solely of shadow, with crimson hollows in its head for eyes. It stood nearly three times taller than Dock himself, and as he studied the figure closely, he could see that the apparition was not entirely ethereal; he could see that in places, the shadows had taken on the form of rotting flesh, and the moment he noticed this, blood began to leak from the crimson eye sockets.

     The beast seemed to study him, barely moving, and Dock felt it best to say something. His voice was wavering with fear, and he could barely keep it steady. “Oh great Sentinel, Eternal Guardian of the Shrine, hear my words! I have an offer that you would be sorry to decline.”

     It seemed to take an age before a sound could be heard. “Many times, mortals have come to Shrines tended to by my watchful brethren. Many times, mortals have had their flesh rent, and their bones ground into dust. You would do well not to disappoint me, young one. I have done terrible things as a living rabbit, but I can do much worse when I am second only to the Black Rabbit himself.” The voice that seemed to emanate from the Sentinel (though its mouth never moved) was a horrid, grinding sound that dripped with venom and hatred. Dock shivered violently, but stayed put.

     “I respect your position, truly I do, Sentinel,” he whimpered, “but think of this; why would I come here if I did not think you were powerful enough to help me? If I didn't believe you held enough power, I would have bypassed this Shrine and called upon another Sentinel.”

     This seemed to please the beast, and though Dock could not see it, he imagined it was smiling with satisfaction. The Sentinel lowered its head to look into Dock's eyes. “I see that you mean no disrespect. Maybe, if I am not pleased with your offer, I will take pity on you, and not give to you my worst punishments.” It paused. “Ask of me whatever you wish, mortal, but be prepared to do for me any task that I wish of you.”

     “Yes, Sentinel,” Dock murmured, bowing his head and sighing with thinly disguised relief. “I thank you most sincerely. The only thing I ask is the favour of the Black Rabbit, for Him to watch over and protect me. If it is possible, I would like a Shrine to be built at my home warren so that I might call upon a Sentinel and hear His words, as guidance.”

     The beast waited, as though considering its answer carefully. When it finally did reply, it peered down at Dock with a piercing red glare. “Very well. I find this offer acceptable. My terms are these:
     “The Shrine you build will be guarded my me – you will serve me and my wishes, and through me, the wishes of the Black Rabbit. Your life will ultimately be bound to Inlé, which, I assure you, would be a blessing, given your position. In return for your servitude, I will give to you not only the favour of the Black Rabbit, but his strength and cunning also. Your life will be shaped by His power, and with it, you will have the strength to crush your enemies, but only when He deems it fitting. Are these terms acceptable, or do you decline my most generous offer?”

     Dock glanced back at Monkshood, who seemed to still be in awe of the shape before them. He waited, and then turned round, looking the Sentinel directly in the eyes. “Yes. I accept these terms.”

     “Good.” The Sentinel seemed to sigh. “There is one more thing I ask.”

“Yes, Sentinel, anything.” Dock lowered himself to the ground, submitting. “Anything.”

     “I tell you an honest truth; your warren has caught my eye recently, and through me, the eye of the Black Rabbit. We have looked into its depths, and have been displeased. In life, your warren was