Sounds of raucous laughter and cheers filled the air, as a party of young men, all in fine clothes, cocked hats, and hunting boots, on gallant steeds, galloped through the streets of a small village, Thryte, and into the courtyard of Munro Manor, home the the illustrious Munro family. The old and well-liked lord and owner of this fine mansion Old Aldebiert Munro has caught pneumonia and a riding trip and passed away. But today was the dawn of a new era, the next Munro was to inherit this vast wealth of land, a glorious mansion, and a fortune beyond his wildest dreams. Today was young Lord Fyfe's day. The surrounding village was aflame with excitement, and all were standing in the grimy streets waiting to meet the young boy. The villeins, at the very sight of this merry party, parted, steeping into the gutter. Men took off their hats and bowed, the ladies followed suit and curtsied, and the children, most of whom didn't understand what was happening, waved at the men. Then the crowd erupted into cries of 'Huzzah!' as young Fyfe rode past them.

Fyfe was a curious-looking young man of five-and-twenty, he wasn't what most would call naturally handsome, but there was no way of denying that he had looks on his side. He bore a slight tan, from spending one too many hours out in the sun, and his skin tone really set out his icy blue eyes, that inquisitively gazed into the hearts and souls of the people. His short, wavy hair was the same colour as a chestnut, but with a reddish tinge to it so it looked more copper than anything else, and his nose had a healthy dose of freckles. Not the sort of man most would call handsome, but his looks were so stange that there was some sort of allure about them.

As the men slowed their horses to a sudden and sharp halt in the courtyard, Fyfe rode the the front, and heard cries from his friends, cries of joy. "Alright, alright lads! Quiet, be quiet would you! Especially you Campbell, my Lord, quiet! I welcome you to Munro Manour. [i]My[/i] Munro Manour! Today, we shall eat, drink, and be merry. And best of all, we shall hunt, today, for the greatest prize we can find. Then we shall do the eating, drinking and being merry. How does that sound, my Lords?" More cheers came from the wild crowd. Then, one of the men raised a hand. "My Lord Munro! If you're seeking a great prize, there's nothing better than the Black Hare." Fife cocked his head a bit, he had never heard of the Black Hare before, and his interest was very clearly piqued. "Speak then," he said, "Lord Lockley. Do tell us of this Black Hare." Lockley bowed his head and continued.

"My Lord Munro, for many years now, a mysterious create has inhabited theese forests of Thryte. A dark hare, impossible to catch, barely ever sighted. Lord Aldebiert died trying to find in." A murmur of interest was audible from the crowd. "The Black Hare is, as I said, almost never sighted. If you can catch a beast such as that Hare, you would be hailed a hero for sure! That is all, my Lord Munro." A Black Hare, that's very rare for sure. Just the sort of challenge Fufe enjoyed. "Well then, lads! Let's catch us a Black Hare! Onwards, our grand merriment beings now!" He yelled. The servants, upon hearing the call, released to vicious black mongrels, who followed Fyfe's hunting party everywhere.

They ignored most of the game, for hours they scoured the forest, but there was not a Black Hare in sight. There were complaints, curses and anger came from the gentlemen. "Dammit, Lord Munro!" Groaned Lockley. "I wish I hadn't told you that legend, it's impossible such a beast exists anyway! Aye, impossible, I dare say." Fyfe leapt off his horse, and kicked the ground hard. "That's it! We've come all this way just for doubts. Come, my Lords, onwards, I say! We shall find that blasted hare if it kills me!" He climed back onto his horse, and trotted off deeper int the grove. But his party went in the other direction, they knew where they were goin, Fife did not. He was unnevred  at the silence surrounding him, he did not realise his party, and dogs, had left him until he was completely lost. "Blasted companions, some friends they are!" A quiet rustle of the leaves, as a magpie flew into the blue sky, frightened his horse, and he was thrown into the undergrowth. His horse galloped off, and he was alone. Not wasting any time, he crept through the mysterious forest.

And the, he saw a cottage. "In the middle of this forest? Why would anyone settle here? I wonder..." His cloak was covered in mud, and he reluctantly took it off, and slung it over his shoulder. "Hello! Anybody? Hello!" He called looking through the window to see if anyone was at home.