Clover popped up from the dark burrow. Dirt smudged his nose. He blinked at the bright meadow.
'What do rabbits love to eat?' he thought. 'And how high can I leap?' The bees didn't answer. They just hummed.
Clover bit into a fat orange carrot. Juice squeaked between his front teeth. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
A bee landed on the carrot top. Clover startled — a leaf flew off his ear. He looked at the bee. The bee blinked back.
Clover crouched. He hopped over one daisy. Then two. Then he crouched one more time and leaped over the whole patch.
The bees tilted their tiny heads. They buzzed louder. Clover stomped the dirt and coiled his back legs.
He launched. Three full meters up. Higher than the bees. Higher than the tall grass. Sunlight caught his whiskers.
Plop. He landed soft as a dropped feather. The meadow went quiet for one whole breath.
Clover sat back down in the grass. Carrot shreds tangled in his fur. He wiggled his long ears and peeked at his small front paws.
He took one last slow nibble. The bees drifted back to the daisies. Hum. Hum. Hum.
