"Listen, Eth, if I'm gonna nail this asshole Van Matthews, I need to prove he's been importing dangerous animals. Even a backwater country like this has laws against that kind of shit. Now you just stay put where you'll be safe and don't go worrying that pretty head of yours over the whys and wherefores, you got it?"

Logan stalked out of the clearing and left Ethan to kick his dainty little heels. Sighing, he sat down on a fallen tree, hoping that if it was infested with ants, he wasn't about to be. It was quite clear how Logan viewed him, he thought bitterly. A lightweight. A liability. Just a necessary evil, to help gain the recognition the big man so obviously craved.

It would serve Logan right if Ethan just got up and left right now. In fact, that was just what he ought to do. Take his cameras and his journalistic witness credentials, and get straight out of this fugitive-infested forest.

Except ...

What if there was something in what Logan said? Ethan would be kicking himself if he missed the opportunity of his career. Then there was Logan himself. Okay, the man was annoying, infuriating, and overbearing. And those were just his good points. But something in Ethan couldn't shake the feeling it might be rather nice to show Logan that Ethan did, in fact, possess a pair. Plus, obviously, the usual accompaniment -- the meat between the two veg, as it were. Ethan wondered idly which two veg they were supposed to resemble. Brussels sprouts, from the shape, he supposed -- although anyone whose family jewels were that particular shade of greyish green was probably in urgent need of medical attention ...

There was a flurry of movement in the corner of Ethan's field of vision, and he raised his head in mild curiosity -- and froze. It couldn't be!

There, not six feet away from him, was a small white rabbit.

With horns.